10. LYLA
Chapter ten
I sprinted for the bathroom, bile rising fast in my throat, and slammed the door shut. I ripped off the hoodie and sweatpants and shoved them into the corner, as if they were diseased.
The angel costume underneath stuck to me in the nastiest of ways.
The white spandex was stiff with drying blood, there were red smears across my ribs, and chunks of brownish gore clung to the wispy skirt.
I barely made it to the toilet before I dropped to my knees and threw up. My body folded in half, and I retched until there was nothing left—just dry heaves and a disgusting taste in my mouth.
“You good in there?” Jae asked gently, his voice muffled through the door.
I wiped my mouth. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Liar,” came Nat’s voice, louder. “She sounds like she just exorcised a demon.”
I almost laughed.
Summoning the last of my strength, I staggered to my feet and turned the shower knob all the way to the hottest setting.
After a minute or so, steam started clouding the bathroom.
My hands trembled as I peeled the angel costume off piece by piece.
There was a gluey resistance. I couldn’t think about it too long, or else I’d hurl again.
“Hand me everything. I’ll take care of the laundry,” Jae said.
“You sure?” My voice came out hoarse.
“Please. Like I haven’t seen worse working with all those little kids.”
I picked the mess up, gagged, and opened the door a few inches. Jae took the bundle from me with a reassuring smile.
“We got you, okay?” he said.
I nodded and shut the door again.
Then I stepped into the shower.
The water was liquid fire, scalding away the stench of death that lingered on my skin and erasing the sick, haunting image of the man’s skull exploding. I braced both palms against the tile and let the water pour over my back.
Rivulets of red ran down my legs. Then pink. Then clear. But the ghost of it wouldn’t go away completely. I scrubbed my arms until they burned. My chest. My throat. My fingers. Again. Again.
My knees gave out.
I slid down to the floor and pulled them to my chest. The sobs didn’t come—just shudders, like something inside me had broken, and I didn’t know how to scream.
My mind wouldn’t give me a moment’s peace, replaying everything over and over. His face before it blew apart. The sound. The spray. My desperation to get away.
I pressed my palms over my ears and squeezed my eyes shut to block it out, but I couldn’t.
Then an image of those angry eyes flashed through my mind— his eyes, the guy from Cipher.
Why had he been watching me, following me, scowling at me?
! He hadn’t made any attempt to hurt me or even speak to me.
He’d just stood there, looking pissed as hell.
For God’s sake, all I’d done was serve him a cup of coffee and a little sass.
It wasn’t merely his pale aquamarine irises, sun-darkened skin, and black hair that held me captive.
It was the unspoken threat and raw power within him that stripped me of my own will.
It was as if he could read my thoughts, latch onto my soul, and yank it from my very body.
Whoever he was, he was dangerous and had developed a twisted interest in me—wanted something from me—and that wasn’t good. The anger he exuded told me that much.
My mind was running wild. Tonight, my life had changed forever, but I had no idea how things would unfold from here. The possibilities whirled through my thoughts in a chaotic frenzy.
When the water turned cold, I finally forced myself to move and get out.
I wrapped a towel around my body and moved to the little pedestal sink. I washed off the makeup that had run down my face. Mascara was smeared under my eyes like a cruel joke. When I gazed into the mirror, the girl staring back didn’t look like me.
She looked older. Strung out.
I gripped the sink. Should I just give up? Go home? Pretend the last six months hadn’t happened?
No! I’d made a promise to give myself one year. I couldn’t stop now. I didn’t have a plan B.
I pushed away from the sink and pulled on my big, comfy T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. My skin stung under the fabric from all the scrubbing, but I still didn’t feel clean.
God, why did life have to suck so much?
When I opened the bathroom door, Jae stood waiting with a steaming mug.
“Chamomile,” he offered.
“Thanks,” I said, tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear.
Nat didn’t hesitate; she jumped up from the futon and pulled me into a full-body hug. “Jesus, Ly. You scared the shit out of us.”
I stood there in her arms, limp.
After a few breaths, she pulled back and looked me over. “Come on. Sit.”
She guided me to the futon and dropped down beside me. Jae stood next to me.
“So, let’s hear it. What the hell happened?” Nat asked. She didn’t ever beat around the bush.
My throat tightened.
Jae glanced at her. “Jesus, Nat. Maybe give her a minute?”
“I am giving her a minute. I waited almost an hour while she rinsed off…whoever was on her clothes.”
I stared at the steam curling off the mug of tea. How the hell was I supposed to explain what had happened tonight?
“Someone got shot,” I said quietly. “Onstage.”
They both gasped.
“Onstage?!” Nat said, moving closer to me.
“He tried to grab me.”
Jae crouched next to me, placing a hand on my knee. “Did the guy hit you? Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No. Just…it all happened so fast.”
“Take your time. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” Jae said, sitting next to me on the futon and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“No, I think I need to talk about it.”
I took a couple of deep breaths to steady my nerves.
“So, everything was going fine. I was just finishing my final routine—the floor section—and this guy jumped onstage. Just sprinted across like a lunatic and tackled me.”
Nat swore under her breath.
“I hit the floor hard, and he was looming over me with his hands on either side of my head—just staring down at me like he wasn’t all there.”
I swallowed hard.
“Then Carlos walked up. And he…shot him. Point blank. Right in the head.”
Nat gasped.
Jae’s arm tightened.
“His head—” I stuttered, shaking violently. “It exploded. Right in front of me. It got on me. In my hair.”
Jae pulled me into his arms.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into his shoulder. “I—I couldn’t stop it.”
“Sweetie, you couldn’t have done anything,” he said.
“Carlos could have shot you too!” Nat snapped. “You were right under that guy. What the hell is wrong with him?”
I pulled back slightly. “Carlos dragged me backstage, dumped me on the dressing room floor, and told me if I said a word, he’d kill me. He said I’m lucky that I bring in good money. So as long as I keep everyone happy, I’ll be okay.”
“Lyla,” Nat said softly. “You get that you’re trapped now, right? They’re never letting you quit. You saw him murder someone. They’ll think you’re a liability.”
“I don’t think they see me like that. Carlos said I was good for business.”
Nat scoffed. “That’s even worse. You’d better make them think you’re all in. Smile. Work hard. Be their perfect little soldier. Then plan your exit out of this city fast—quietly. Because if they’re killing people without blinking? That’s mafia. Or worse, gangsters.”
“Well, I don’t want to just give up everything I’ve worked my whole life for. I want to stay, and I need that job. It’s the only thing I can do to earn enough money to pay the rent and live this close to all the theater jobs. I have to work at the club.”
Jae leaned in. “No, you don’t. We’ll figure something out. There are other jobs.”
I shook my head. “There really aren’t. Not that pay enough.”
Nat sighed. “Jesus, Lyla. You can’t stay there.”
“I don’t think I have a choice…now,” I said, focusing on the tea and hoping the trembling in my hands wasn’t too obvious.
They didn’t argue—because we all knew the type of men I worked for, knew what dreams cost in this city.
And right now, I was paying for my dreams in blood.
“I can still work there and play dumb while I continue auditioning. If I land something big—”
“No role will matter,” Nat said harshly. “Nobody’s going to save you, Lyla. Not even if you’re the biggest star on Broadway. You’re on your own, and you’d better not die chasing the fucking spotlight.”
Tears spilled hot and fast down my cheeks.
“Nat,” Jae warned. “That’s enough. We’ll figure something out. You’ve got us, Lyla. We’ll help you stay safe. Just…for now, I think you need to rest.”
I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t even know if I can sleep. Because there’s something else… The guy from the coffee shop—the one who followed me yesterday—he was there too. At the club… And he followed me home again.”
Jae sat straighter. “What?!”
Nat jumped to her feet. “Call the cops. Right now.”
“No! I mean…I don’t think he wants to hurt me. If he did, he’s had plenty of chances. He could’ve taken me off the street yesterday or today. But he didn’t. Plus, he’s rich. Creepy as hell. Russian or something, but…I don’t know. I can’t figure him out.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s safe,” Nat snapped.
“I know. I’ll pin down Carmine about him tomorrow and figure out who he is. For now I’m going to bed.”
I picked up my phone from the coffee table and glanced at the screen: 3:30 a.m.! I let out a dark chuckle. “Never mind. I’ve got to be at Cipher in an hour. So…no rest for the weary.”
Jae groaned. “How the fuck is it already past three?”
Just then, my phone buzzed in my hands, making me jump. It was Trina calling. That was weird.
I cleared my throat, wiped the leftover tears from under my eyes, and pressed the speaker icon. “Hey, Trina. What’s up?”
“You’re off today.” Her voice was dry as ever.
“Really?”
“That’s right, you don’t have to come in. Surprise health inspection. The place is shut down for the day.”
I blinked. “Wait—what? Just like that?”