CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cara
I backed out of my parking spot in front of my townhouse and pulled into traffic.
I was headed to the theater for yet another performance.
They were starting to all run together now.
I had found myself getting less and less joy from dancing, and, until recently, I was afraid it was clear in every pirouette, every grand jeté.
I hoped not. I was trying my best to give it my all; it’s just my all seemed to be less and less like what it used to be.
The days slid by, seeming to take forever before Edward would be back in town. And I had too many shows on the schedule to go home for a visit. Even a quick one.
Still, I was happy. I talked and texted with Edward every chance I got.
I was dizzy with my feelings for him. I hadn’t felt like this since…
ever. Even when I’d fallen in love with him before, I hadn’t been quite this hopelessly gone over him.
On my way to practice one morning, I drove with the windows down, singing “Put Your Records On” at the top of my lungs.
I stopped singing and acted normal at traffic lights since I sounded nothing like Corinne Bailey Rae and didn’t want to horrify anyone.
I was sad when the song ended but decided the rest of Charleston would be relieved not to have to listen to me caterwauling anymore.
I pulled in the lot, put my earbuds in, and continued to listen to my favorite playlist. I literally danced and twirled my way into the theater, not caring as several other dancers stared at me. Some smiled, some gave me wary looks, but I didn’t even care.
“You’re happy.”
“Huh?” I stopped in my tracks to keep from running into Nora. I took out my earbuds. I’d been listening to “How Bad Do U Want Me” by Lady Gaga as I side stepped, danced, and shimmied toward my dressing room.
“I said you’re happy,” she repeated. “What’s going on?
” The look of interest on her face seemed genuine, but I was cautious around her.
I had been ever since the whole phone tracker incident.
I just couldn’t get past that she acted as if it was no big deal that she’d given her brother my location.
Then the way she’d acted in my dressing room when she’d seemed jealous of Edward and me hadn’t exactly helped smooth things over.
“Oh, I don’t know. I love the change of seasons, I guess,” I said flippantly before sliding past her, going into my dressing room, and closing the door behind me. There was no way I was going to tell her anything about Edward and how happy I was with him.
There was something freeing about knowing I was leaving; that my time here was temporary.
And as the days went by, I was edging ever closer to a change in my life.
A big one. I could barely contain my excitement.
To make up for my lack of joy in the same old routines, I’d recently started trying to channel that excitement into my performances.
It appeared to be working. I didn’t feel as if I was dialing in my performances anymore. Instead, I felt refreshed, revitalized.
And it seemed others were noticing.
Kelisha had stopped by my dressing room to talk, something she’d been doing more often lately, and she’d commented on my ‘effervescence’ onstage lately.
I was relieved. I didn’t want my reputation as a dancer to suffer because I was dealing with what could be temporary burnout.
I wasn’t quite ready to consider what it meant if the burnout I was feeling turned into something long-term.
***
Later in the week, I found myself looking timidly out over the dark, empty parking lot.
I was one of the last to leave. It hadn’t been intentional, but Kelisha had dropped by my dressing room to discuss my departure plans.
She’d wanted an update on how things were going with finding another performance spot, so the two of us had sat and talked for almost an hour before we realized how much time had slipped away.
She’d apologized and excused herself to go to her office and finish up a report.
And now I was out here by myself.
I was normally smarter about things like this. I bit my lip and scanned the lot. There were very few cars, and no people in the theater’s lot. Still, it was fairly well lit, and I’d parked close to the building. I shouldn’t be as scared as I was.
But tell that to my pounding heart.
I stood under the awning of the back door for several more moments before taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders. “You’re being ridiculous,” I mumbled to myself.
I started to take the first step down, when a deep, male voice cut through the humid, slightly foggy, early fall night.
“Why are you walking by yourself to your car?”
“Oh God!” I lurched back towards the stage door and fumbled for the knob, desperate to get back inside. My hand finally closed around it, but I turned it fruitlessly.
It had locked behind me.
I started to beat on the door, but the voice had been so close. No one would make it in time to help me. If there was even anyone left inside to hear me.
I whirled around to face whoever it was, praying it was just an overzealous fan and not someone who wanted to hurt me.
A masculine form stood in the shadows. I could feel his eyes on my face, but I couldn’t make out his features. The top of his face was hidden by darkness, but dim streaks of light from the parking lot illuminated his mouth. I could make out that he was smiling.
He liked my fear.
“Hello,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I failed miserably.
He stepped into the light, and I gasped with relief, my hand on my chest as recognition dawned.
“Monty! My God. You scared the hell out of me.”
I stood with my back pressed against the stage door. He walked closer. “Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry.
He was wearing a bespoke suit, not a hair out of place. He was objectively handsome. So why did I find him almost repulsive? “A woman who looks like you should never walk to her car by herself at night, Cara.”
I shuddered. Why was he so creepy?
“You’re right,” I tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, fake. “No woman should. I don’t normally walk out by myself, but I got caught up talking, and, well, here I am.”
“I waited for you.” His hands were in his pockets. Like this was a casual situation. “I couldn’t leave thinking someone might hurt you. Not everyone is as nice as I am.”
“Right. Um… thanks.” I peeled myself off the stage door and tentatively started walking down the stairs. He followed me.
“I wait for you a lot of nights. But you don’t ever see me.”
I was glad I wasn’t facing him. There’s no way I could have hidden the ‘what the fuck?’ look on my face. “Really?” I tried to sound calm. “Why would you do that?”
“I’m just looking out for you. I’m always looking out for you.”
I forced myself to walk slowly. I got the overwhelming sense that if I started running to my car, he’d chase me.
But he wouldn’t, would he? Monty was weird, but he wasn’t dangerous.
At least that’s what I’d always thought.
But as he fell into step beside me, I noticed how he towered over me.
I’d always thought of Monty as slight, unmuscular, but I realized I was wrong.
He seemed tense with a wiry strength that practically vibrated off him. I felt small, vulnerable.
And we were all alone out here.
What if I’d been wrong? What if he was more than strange? More than socially awkward? What if he was dangerous?
We reached my car. My keys were in my hand, and I unlocked it with my key fob. “Well, thanks again, Monty,” I said in as normal a voice as I could muster. I reached to open my door.
And that’s when he moved in front of it, blocking me from leaving.
I frowned, and my eyes shot up to his. What the hell?
“Don’t you want to thank me for something else?”
My mind went blank for a moment before I remembered the flowers, chocolates, and other gifts he’d been sending almost nightly for weeks now. “Oh, thank you for the flowers and all the gifts. Sorry I didn’t think to say it earlier, but you scared me.”
His face was blank. “Nora said you got flowers and fruit from that man. Edward. I didn’t know you liked fruit. Why didn’t you tell me you liked fruit?”
I gaped at him. Who the hell didn’t like fruit? And why would I tell him that anyway?
“He’s the one you left the party with. The one you went to a hotel with.” He sneered at me. “I know what you were doing with him.”
Good lord. Monty had to be thirty. I would hope he knew what went on between a man and a woman in a hotel, but he made it sound like it was a big secret that he’d figured out.
He leaned forward until his mouth was almost touching my ear. “I saw you walking with him in the park. Eating at that nice restaurant. You could have gone to that restaurant with me. I would’ve liked to have walked through that park with you.”
I had seen Monty that night! I knew it. I tried to swallow back the scream of fear that was crawling up my throat. I felt like once I acknowledged my fear, it would be over—I would lose control of the situation completely.
He reached out and traced a finger down the side of my neck. “You have such a pretty neck. Long and elegant.”
I jerked away from him, doing my best not to shudder in revulsion.
“He’ll never love you like I could.”He took a step towards me, hands reaching out for me, and I almost lost my battle with restraint. I was super close to turning and running.
“Cara,” the familiar voice of my director rang out across the parking lot. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
I locked eyes with Monty. “Do I? Need help?”
He smiled at me then. It was almost a normal smile, but it didn’t quite reach his unusually pale eyes. “Of course not. What a silly question.”
“Step away from my car, please.”
He did. I could have fainted with relief. I turned to shout to Kelisha, “I’m fine.” I waved at her. “Thank you.” God. She had no idea exactly how thankful I was.
“I’ll wait until you’re in your car,” she hollered, “just in case.”
Bless her. I’d never been so glad to see someone in my entire life.
When I turned back, Monty was striding away from me. I watched him, confused. He wasn’t heading towards a car. Instead, he turned down a sidewalk that led to a side street I’d never gone down before. I could see his form clearly in the glow of the streetlights as he walked away.
Realization that I could leave, that I was safe, washed over me, and I got in my car quickly.
I started it and was about to pull off towards Kelisha to thank her.
I paused, though, when I saw Monty had stopped walking.
He had turned around and was staring in my direction.
The light from the streetlight cast shadows across his face.
I couldn’t see his features or expression.
In fact, if I hadn’t known it was him, I never would have recognized him.
Goosebumps prickled over my arms.
I wondered just how many times he’d done this before without me noticing him.