Under the Lights Read online

  “Mark?” She trots across the narrow boards to where I’m standing, arching her back so her full breasts lead the way. “I think one of my straps came undone while I was climbing the ladder. Would you check it for me?”

  She pauses a moment, standing very straight in front of me. I can see… everything. She’s not wearing pasties. She’s pretty much fully nude.

  “It all looks… fine.” Turning my head, I fix my gaze on the show unfolding below. Tanya is doing her contortionist routine, tossing scraps of fabric into the wings with every backbend and twist.

  “It’s not on the front,” Vanessa argues. “It’s on my ass.”

  She spins on her heel and leans forward, thrusting her bare round ass into my crotch and twerking it. Fuck. My body responds to her movements because, hell, I’m not dead. Still, I take a step back.

  “Yeah, it looks okay to me.”

  She straightens and looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed and lips curved in a smile. “I felt that.” She turns again and moves closer. “You like what you see?”

  I’m at the end of the walk, and she’s pressed against my chest, putting pressure on the front of my jeans, and I distinctly feel her hand stroking my cock up and down, running her nails over my growing erection.

  “Mmm, it’s so big.” Her green eyes sparkle. “I’ll leave my door open after the show, and you can sink this lead pipe deep in my well.”

  Reaching down, I catch her wrist and move it off my crotch. “You’re going to mess up your costume.”

  Her hand twists in my grip, and she guides my fingers between her legs. “Feel how wet I am for you.”

  I pull my hand up and out of hers before she makes it to her cunt. Jesus, how long does it take to get to the musical cue? She’s all over me, and I don’t want to touch her.

  Clearing the thickness from my throat, I move to the side, allowing her to have my place against the metal guardrail. I cross the narrow strip of boards to the bench and pull a pair of leather gloves out of my back pocket.

  “You need to get seated and attach the safety harness.”

  She turns and walks to me like a model on the catwalk, eyes fixed on mine. “You always make me wet, Mark. Do you know that?” Long fingernails trace up my forearm, and I step away, returning to my place beside the rope without answering.

  Facing me, she sits, lifting her bare breasts as she holds the sides of the bench. Then she opens her legs wide, flashing me her pussy before crossing them again. The musical cue sounds, and the seat moves out over the open stage, but she looks back over her shoulder and mouths the words, All for you.

  I almost mouth back, No thanks, but it doesn’t matter. She’s descending. I’ve made it through my last night in the dark with that naked octopus. I can think of five guys who would give their front teeth for my spot up here with Vanessa, and I’d gladly give it to them. The only catch is I’m not sure I’d get it back when Lara returns, and I have to be here for my girl.

  The swing makes it to the bottom without a hitch, and I toss the gloves on the chair, hopping on the ladder and quickly returning to the floor. It’s early enough I might catch Lara before she calls it a night.

  I know she’s tired. I know she’s worried about returning to her place tomorrow night. I want to reassure her about all of it. Even better, Terrence leaves for the Caribbean tomorrow. I’ll have the house to myself, and I want to ask her to come home with me after the show. I want to keep her safe there, away from this place at night.

  My chest is tight, expanding with my dreams of our future, my plans for cheating the system, when Gavin bumps into me in the wings.

  “Whoa, there.” He steps out from the side door, and seems surprised to see me. “Mark—just the man I was looking for. Come with me.”

  “I-I was just—” I hesitate, my eyes traveling to the door leading to Lara’s room. I’m not supposed to be back here.

  “Now.” His tone tells me it isn’t a request.

  I nod and follow him through the side door into a narrow hallway I’ve never seen before. He walks fast, leading me on a steady slope down. We take a sharp curve, and we’re still traveling lower, going underground, beneath the stage to where the trap doors lead. Yellow lights in cages are scattered at distant intervals, casting long shadows through the dusty basement. Still, he doesn’t stop.

  We arrive at another door at the opposite side of the theater from where we entered.

  Gavin pauses, and looks at me over his shoulder. “In this job, you don’t talk about what you see.” It’s a command, given with icy finality.

  He waits, and I realize he’s waiting for me to acknowledge I understand.

  “Yes, sir.” My voice seems small in the vast area.

  My skin crawls as we pass through the door. It’s clearly a secret area, recently renovated with fresh carpet and new wallpaper. My gaze travels up to the ceiling, and I see tiny black domes for surveillance cameras.

  I think of what I know about secrets and places hidden underground. Usually when things are secret, what happens in them is illegal. Terrence’s warning flickers in my mind, and my muscles tense, bracing for what’s to come.

  We’re in another hallway lined with doors, but it’s quiet. I’m pretty sure we’re alone. Gavin stops at the first door, pushing it open and reaching inside to flick a switch. It doesn’t flood with light. It warms with the illumination of yellow bulbs.

  “In here.” He stands back as if waiting for me to enter ahead of him. I hesitate and meet his eyes before entering the room.

  Immediately, I recoil. My voice escapes on a hiss. “What the fuck?”

  A bed is against the back corner, and it’s torn apart. Sheets are pulled away and part of the bare mattress is exposed. The smell of sweat and something deeper, musty, hangs in the air, and dark stains are on the sheets, a swipe on the wall, a handprint. On the carpet is a large, black oval. Is it blood? Is this a crime scene?

  “Clean it up.” He starts to leave, but I go after him, down the short hallway.

  “What happened here?”

  He doesn’t stop, and I reach out to grab his arm.

  It’s a mistake.

  He turns on me faster than I can see, slamming my back to the wall, his forearm at my neck. This guy’s as tall as me and twice my weight.

  Blue eyes bore into mine, and bourbon stings my nose. “You work for me now,” he growls. “You don’t ask questions. You don’t think. You do as you’re told.” Tightening his fist on my neck, he pushes me toward the room. “Clean it up. Burn the rest.”

  “Take it easy, Gavin.” The scuff of shoes precedes another man joining us. He’s short and beefy, and when he turns, light reflects off a badge. My stomach roils when I realize he’s a cop, and he’s staring at me, memorizing my face. “Mark Fitzhugh, right?”

  I won’t confirm or deny.

  I don’t have to.

  “Reese Landry, meet the new guy.”

  “Kinda young, isn’t he?”

  “He’s young, but he’s got guts. He’ll do what it takes to stay here.”

  In that moment, I realize Gavin has my number.

  Landry walks closer, taking one glance into the room before smiling at me. “Welcome to our world, Mark Fitzhugh. Enjoy your stay.”

  Nausea is in my throat, and I watch the two men leave. I’m alone in this strange hidden place facing this dark task.

  Two steps, and I consider running. It’s not too late to catch up with Terrence and leave in the morning on a fishing boat headed for a tropical paradise. Or simply hop a train and ride it all the way to Chicago. He won’t come after me. Why should he? I don’t know anything—what happened here or why.

  Fuck Landry, the crooked cop. Fuck both of them and their surveillance cameras.

  One thing stops me. It’s the thing Gavin knew before I did. I won’t leave Lara behind in this place. She’s the reason I told Terrence no. She’s the reason I told Gavin yes…

  She’s never given me a reason to stay. It’s only the bar
est hope, a few stolen kisses and a dream of something more. We both want more than this life, but now I’m being pulled deeper into it. Welcome to our world.

  Reaching for the doorjamb, I squeeze the wood in my fist as my stomach churns. I won’t leave her here, which means I’m going to do this job. I look side to side in the hallway. He said to clean this up, burn the sheets…

  I walk further down the passage, deeper into the belly of this beast, until I come to a narrow door with a brass plate on the outside. No inscription, but I push it open and find what I’m looking for inside. A mop, a bucket, shelves of supplies. Clorox and lighter fluid. It’s the start of my work here, cleaning up the mess, burning the evidence, covering their tracks.

  I don’t know who lost this fight.

  I only know I won’t be seeing Lara tonight.

  9

  “Limits, like fear, are an illusion.”

  Lara

  The bones of the feathered corset cut into my bruised torso as Rosa pulls the laces tighter. The pain almost makes me cry out, but I fight it. Gavin said I’m going on tonight, and that means no more hiding. I don’t know if Freddie will be in the audience watching as I make my debut in diamonds. If he is, I don’t know how that will change things.

  Next comes the glittering top. It’s a network of chains, which she attaches with costume glue to the skin under my breasts and up the center of my chest. The collar is snug around my neck, and when I stand straight, it raises my small breasts so they point straight ahead.

  “Be still,” she says, standing in front of me and taking out the brush and paint.

  I stare at the corner where the wall meets the ceiling behind her as she touches me lightly with the brush. Painting my areolas with pink glittered body paint. The strokes of the brush are gentle, and my nipples harden.

  “Good,” she mutters. “The paint is cooling. It will keep them tight and pointy. Men love that.”

  My stomach tightens at the thought of Mark seeing me this way, wondering if he loves it. When we kissed, I told him I only wanted him to see me this way. It’s still true, but it’s a stupid dream. Everyone will see me tonight. My only comfort is in how different I look—almost like my transformed body has become my costume.

  “They look bigger… How?” I study my new-and-improved bosom in the mirror. Gavin has often complained about my small breasts, my boyish figure. He’ll approve of this development.

  “The corset pushes you up,” she says. “And perhaps you’ve grown a bit.”

  “Not this much.” The new corset is blood-red velvet with lines of black sequins running up the bodice. A train of black feathers flows from each of my hips, leaving my ass exposed in only a thong, and the front is the smallest heart-shaped scrap of fabric.

  Rosa jerks my corset, straightening it and sending pain shooting through my sides. I wince. “Look straight ahead,” she orders.

  I look forward and she gathers my hair into a twist of large curls at the top of my head. On my shoulders, thin black feathers flow down and tickle the tops of my arms. With my hair up, the full effect of the ensemble is dazzling. It’s the most revealing, decorated costume I’ve ever seen.

  Rosa frowns at me. “I don’t like it.”

  “What?” I barely recognize myself. It’s like some beautiful woman with breasts has sneaked in and taken my place. “I think I look amazing.”

  “You look so old.” She drops my hair. “It’s too soon.”

  A knot is in my throat, but there’s no changing it. I step forward and pick up the box Freddie sent. I slide the white ribbon from around it and lift the barrette. The crystals send rainbow sparkles through the room when the light hits it, and I hold it up against the side of my head. Rosa looks over my shoulder.

  “From Freddie?” she asks.

  I nod, and her hands return to my hair, twisting it up and around again. “Hand it to me,” she says.

  I pass it to her, and she attaches it in the side of my hair. “That’ll do. It’ll encourage him to see you wearing it during your performance.”

  She seems happier, and I give her a sad little smile. I never realized Rosa cared about what happened to me, and if I leave this place, I know I’ll never see her again. I turn to embrace her in the quiet sadness now filling the room. We’re interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Rosa steps back to open it, and my eyes rise to meet… beautiful blue.

  “Roland sent me to…” Mark’s voice cuts off as he takes in my appearance. Then it drops to a whisper. “You look—”

  “I’ll check on Molly,” Rosa steps to the side and pushes past him out the door.

  She’s gone, and we’re alone in my room. His reaction makes my stomach tighten, tingling heat rises up my thighs, centering in my core. I look away, reaching for the barrette and unfastening it from my hair. One tug and a dark curtain falls across my hot-pink cheeks and exposed breasts.

  Mark’s breath is audible. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

  My shoulders tremble. I want him to see me—I want only him to see me—but I’m not used to the power of my body. I’m intimidated by its effect on men.

  Blinking up, our eyes meet, and his are dark, drinking in my breasts, my legs, my bare pussy hidden behind the dark heart.

  “I wish…” His voice trails off.

  My voice is barely audible. “What do you wish?”

  Navy eyes blink to mine, and the hunger there makes my knees weak. “I wish you were mine. Only mine. I wish I could touch you. I wish I was a rich man, so I could take you far from here.”

  “Only fools make wishes here.”

  His head moves side to side, and he smiles. “Oh, beautiful girl, I’d trade being a fool here with you for a lifetime anywhere else.”

  I don’t have a response to that, but he doesn’t give me a chance.

  “I’d hoped to see you last night,” he continues. “I wanted to see you.” His expression is different, changed.

  “I was tired.” It’s all I’ll say, not that I was defeated and sad and dreaming of him taking the pain away.

  “I’ll see you tonight.” Calm certainty is in his tone as if a decision has been made, a promise.

  Our eyes meet, and heat fills me at what’s to come, what I’ve been longing for. I only have time for a nod when the door opens, and Rosa enters my small room.

  “They’re dimming the lights. It’s time to get to your marks.” She plants a thick hand on Mark’s chest and pushes him out the door, closing it.

  “He’s a sweet boy,” she mutters. “Now face me.”

  I don’t answer. I’m too dazzled by his words, his promise, my beating heart. She dusts my entire body with a large pink brush, and the faintest highlight covers my skin.

  “What do you think about him?” she asks.

  “Who?” I try to pretend my thoughts are elsewhere.

  “I said that Mark seems like a sweet boy,” she repeats staring at my face.

  “I owe him my life.” I step off the platform, aware she isn’t convinced, but she pulls open the door and lets me escape without another word.

  It’s time for me to head to my place and assume the position as star of the finale.

  The finale in which I descend from above, the dark angel singing out over the audience.

  On that swing.

  I race through the sticky rosin, the talc-filled air, past the low murmur of dancers warming up, to the narrow metal ladder against the back wall in the wings. I ignore the hollow stabs of pain hitting my middle whenever I move and once I’m there, I look up.

  No robe covers me tonight. My body is bare except for the strategically placed jewels and feathers, and it’s time to climb. Rosa stops me before I begin, patting the tiny beads of sweat away from my hairline with a tissue, following quickly with a cone-shaped purple sponge.

  “Freddie’s sitting stage right,” she says, re-fastening the barrette in the side of my head. “Turn your head so he sees it.”

  I nod, ready to hurry up the ladder, but as I climb, ev
erything slows down.

  I don’t understand what’s happening.

  I’m in perfect shape for climbing a ladder, but the higher I go, the harder it is to breathe. It’s like a fist is tightening around my throat.

  By the time I reach the top, I’m gasping and shaking all over. My body is covered with a cold sheen of sweat and pain grips my chest. I can’t move. Mark is waiting for me, ready to help me into my seat. But all I can do is stand there and grip the rope, paralyzed by fear.

  He takes one look at my face and seems to understand immediately what’s happening. He quickly comes to where I stand shivering and reaches for me with his still-bandaged hand.

  “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Take my hand.”

  My wide eyes lock on his, just visible in the dim light so high above the dancers.

  “I… I don’t understand.” I can’t explain the panic I feel, why I can’t catch my breath. It’s more than nerves or stage fright. It’s something far more powerful.

  “Look at me,” he says, holding both my hands. “Breathe.”

  My chest is tight, but I try to do as he says.

  “Vanessa has done it twice. I personally double-checked everything an hour ago. It’s not going to break.”

  I hold his hands, and I can feel the strength that caught me when I fell. I believe him, but my body doesn’t want to cooperate.

  “I won’t let you fall, Lara.”

  I look into his eyes and focus on taking in air and pushing it out. I study his hands, and I remember him holding me, his wishes, his promise to protect me. Since the accident, since our day on the levee, since every other time he’s been with me, I realize we’re on the edge of something more, something bigger than this place.

  My body calms as my mind filters through these thoughts, as I hold his gaze, and even though my heart beats fast, it’s no longer from panic.

  It’s something very different.

  It’s waves crashing on the sparkling sand.

  It’s the kiss of moonlight on a still lake.