Chapter 11 – Amanda
Protein shakes and cosmopolitans did not mix well. In fact, my burps tasted like chalky, chocolate cranberries. It took no time at all to regret my decision. And yet, when my friends ordered a round of lemon drops, I was the little idiot who didn’t say no.
The acrobats tumbled across the stage as another boom of thunder spread through the air. The temperature turned muggy, and as the bass dropped to a new low, rain began to fall.
I joined the crowd in a scream of delight as masked animals prowled from the wings of the club.
Denver was swept away in the arms of a dancing lion. They frolicked and pranced.
When the girls said signing the consent forms was worth it, I agreed. I had no idea the entertainment was interactive at this venue. This was so freaking fun! The girls were right. Work had buried me alive, and I was happy I’d come out to experience this sensation for myself.
A whip cracked through the air.
I stumbled as I tried to spin around to see what the next installment of hedonism brought.
A circus ringmaster, dressed in all black, complete with coattails on the jacket and a top hat on his head, prowled to the center of the dance floor.
The rubber mask concealing his features was twisted into a gnarled smile.
Slits in the wide, bulging eyes let the man behind the monster see, but it was hard to imagine there was anything human behind the pale, ghastly face.
His whip snaked out, launching into the air. The double crack timed perfectly with the music in an audible tango.
The animals bowed and scraped to his command. Many of the patrons joined them.
The fun reached a new height. A dangerous level. My gut churned. I swiped water from my cheeks, careful to back up so I didn’t slip on the slick surface. Whoever thought the rain special effect was a good idea with drunk people was crazy.
I need to sit down.
My stilettos splashed in a puddle. The slick surface sent me skidding. I threw my arms wide for balance.
Leather coiled over my bare skin, the whip draping over my wrist.
I froze.
The circus master moved with power and dominion, clearly the apex predator in the arena.
I felt the eyes of the crowd fall on me as I became part of the show. The whip slithered up my arm as the length grew longer. The stiff rod reached for me, flicking my hair.
“Every man in this room wants to touch you,” a deep bass murmured.
He spoke low, and with the noise around us, I doubted anyone else could hear. My pulse jumped. Awareness prickled along my skin.
“But you and I both know I’m the only one who actually can.” The circus master stepped behind me.
Heat radiated between us. It would take the smallest of steps to move backwards and collide with the ghoul.
Some instinct of self-preservation made me step forward.
Gloved fingers wrapped around my wrist. With a vicious jerk, I tumbled backward. Strobe lights exploded across the ceiling. The music thrummed against my skin. It was too much—he was too much!
“Let me go!” I wheezed, tugging my arm.
The circus master spun me around. My chest crashed into his solid mass.
“You think you’re free now?” he growled. “You’re standing in my club, wearing my color, breathing my air.”
As he spoke, he plucked at the straps of my dress.
Black.
A little black dress that I hadn’t worn in years. I drew my gaze up his body, seeing the dark matte against the shiny midnight. Black on black. We matched.
His touch skimmed over my collarbone, lifting the fine chain of gold. The engagement ring dangled between us.
“It offends me that you thought you could wear this here.” His voice was the texture of granite.
I grabbed at the ring he held aloft between us. Suddenly, I knew. Whether he was here in the flesh or my insanity was manifesting in front of me, this was the same devil who’d been messing with me.
I took a healthy step back. Balance left me. I swayed hard, and the floor rose to meet my ass.
Hoots and hollers jeered around us. Birds, jackals, and maniacs, all of them!
The circus master crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at me.
It had to be the extreme pressure of every choice I made in the last few months. Years, probably. But I felt the armor in my chest crack. I didn’t know who this man was, or what his problem with me could possibly be, but I lost it.
Soaking wet, flushed with embarrassment, and feeling the niggling edge of something I didn’t want to admit to, I was defeated. Done. It was time to let myself fall into oblivion. Embrace the void where Amanda Loring didn’t exist.
I struggled to my feet, gave the crowd a small bow, and walked away from the entertainment. I felt his gaze on me the whole way to the bar.
I slammed my card on the counter. “Tequila. Make it a double.”
My phone buzzed, and I knew without looking who it was. After I threw back the shot and croaked for another, I felt bold enough to peek.
Unknown: You should stop.
I ground my molars. If he thought he could tell me what to do, he had another think coming. My fingers stabbed the phone screen.
Me: Joke’s on you. Everyone saw you touch me. When the cops catch you, they’ll have eyewitness proof that you’re just some sick bastard getting his jollies off by tormenting me in public.
The small glass of clear liquid was pushed in front of me. I snatched it, licked the salt, and threw it back.
I choked.
There was no burn. No fire. No salvation.
“What the hell was that?” I barked at the bartender.
He gave me a calm, professional look. “You’ve been cut off.”
Oh, the circus master thought he was so clever. Giving his boys orders to keep me from my booze. Tricking me with a shot of water.
My phone vibrated, and I glared at the message.
Unknown: Let them watch.
A new message popped up on the screen.
Unknown: They can want you.
Unknown: I’ll be the one to take you.
Unbelievable. Un-freaking-believable!
I marched to the nearest table, plastered on a winning smile that was probably half deranged, and grabbed a cocktail from the guy who smiled back. Keeping my eyes locked with his, I downed the contents.
The rich boys cheered as I slammed it on the table.
“Want mine?” the redhead offered.
I held up my hand. “Thanks, but I’ve been cut off. Time to ditch this joint.”
Unable to shake the feeling at the back of my neck, I made my way to the exit. The streak of defiance felt good. It made up for the fact that my dress was soaked and my pride nonexistent.
Tomorrow would be a fresh day, and I would nurse whatever hangover I had while I gathered the threads of my life and brought order to the chaos. I was in control. Me.
That was the worst part of this charade, I realized as I stood on the curb, waiting for the rideshare, shivering despite the warm evening.
The monster stalking me challenged me for control.
He tempted me with the idea of giving it up.
And that scared me more than the potential that I was losing my mind…
or that there was actually someone haunting me from the shadows.