Chapter 9
Violet
Jules practically danced beside me as I stepped down from the stage, fabric clutched to my chest. My lungs burned, heartbeat rattling against ribs, realizing I’d overestimated my stamina.
Pole dancing for an audience is nothing like riding Hyacinth across open fields or the movements of jiu-jitsu. My body ached in ways I had forgotten.
“Oh my God, Alexis! That was magnificent!” Jules squealed, grabbing my hands, her garnet nails glinting as she bounced on her heels. “I haven’t seen anyone dance that well since, well, me, of course.”
The irony tasted bittersweet. “Thanks,” I managed, the word scraping my throat raw.
“Come on,” she urged, tugging me towards the back. “Let’s get you changed before you freeze.”
But I feel too hot, I almost wanted to whine. I was sweating, dizzy from the high of endorphins.
To think I hadn’t performed in. . . well, since before I was killed. The dark thought slithered forth as I fought to push it back down.
Back in the changing room, I wiped the sweat off my body and slipped back into my street clothes. The only item that stayed the same were my heels and I regretted not bringing a pair of flats when my feet screamed against the cold floor, blisters forming where the heels had rubbed my skin raw.
It would take a few months for calluses to form, I thought then realized, I was already planning on doing this for a long time. Or however long it takes, I chided myself. I didn’t care what demon I was trading with, I wanted Edward served on a meathook.
I finished, and was startled when I caught my reflection.
There stood a woman I almost didn’t recognize: dark brown nearly black hair streaked with red and clinging to temples, eyes bright with adrenaline and the deepest flush.
I looked tired but. . . like I just had finished the best fuck session of my life.
I laughed to myself. I tried to fix my tousled hair and failed.
Stepping back out, I met with Jules who was speaking with another dancer, the lovely redhead I had watched earlier.
Jules was nodding excitedly. “Yes, it’s a lovely fit. You'll be able to take a break for a bit.”
The girl squealed and gave Jules a big hug and I watched in fascinated mortification as their well endowed breasts squished comically together.
“Oh, thank you Jules!” The redhead said and then saw me. “And you! What a killer set. You were so amazing.” Her praise brought another flush to my face and I mumbled a thank you.
“You were so lovely on stage.” I provided, motioning to her gorgeous emerald green piece she wore. “And you look so cute. I really adore that color.”
“Thanks. It’s cliche but green looks good on our pale skin and red hair.” She pointed to her red curls that I was immediately jealous of when I saw how tight and glossy they were. “I’m Brianna by the way. My friends call me Bri. Stage name is Red which seems silly but my patrons love it.”
She gave me her hand and I felt self conscious shaking it. “Are you Irish by any chance?”
She nodded. “Don’t have much of the accent. How could you tell?”
I smiled. “Oh, the Stablemaster at the school has a similar lilt.”
Brianna clasped my hand with a warm smile. “You’ve met Aaron? He’s my little brother!”
Small world I suppose. “He’s a good guy,” I said, falling back on the words Daddy used.
She beamed. “Aw, thank you. I adore him though he can be a stick in the mud.” She whispered the last bit, “Doesn’t agree with my work, but he’s respectful of my choices.”
“Then he really is a good guy. I’ll try not to give him a hard time next time I see him.”
That caused her to giggle before she started off. “He can take a beating. Can’t wait to work with you more after my break!” She waved as she left.
“So?” I asked, pulling my hair back with trembling fingers. “Am I hired?”
“Yes. Bri needed to take a break for this semester. She’s a junior studying at the nearby school so she’s been stressed. This works out well.”
I nodded in understanding. “I actually just started there, so I’m happy to hear I might see her on campus. So,” I paused before asking the obvious question, “when do I start?”
Jules cocked her head like she was listening to something out of earshot. Her eyes unfocused for a second, then snapped back to me with that familiar, unnerving clarity.
“Four days,” she said, holding up four red-tipped fingers. “Come back in four days. I’ll speak with the proprietor tomorrow and I know that he'll take a day or two to mull it over.” She beamed like a proud mother, and something in my chest cracked.
Don’t you remember me? I wanted to scream. Don’t you remember it was you who taught me to dance like that?
But this Jules had never met me. Less than an hour ago, I was a stranger to her.
I swallowed the words and nodded instead.
“Thanks. I should probably be honest and tell you my real name is Violet, but I’d like to go by Alexis. . . if that’s alright?”
“Absolutely. Paperwork needs the legal name anyways.” After a moment of silence, she mistook it for nerves. “You were born for this,” she continued, oblivious to the war in my head. “The way you move. . . it’s like you’ve been doing it your whole life.”
Half my life, I thought. The worst half.
I forced a smile. “Thanks for the opportunity.”
“Are you kidding? Thank you for the audition. The crowd loved you. I’ll go over more when you meet with me Friday.
Leave your number with Andy. By the way, your boyfriend’s still at the bar,” Jules said, taking a moment to borrow some lotion from one of the other girls with a quick thank you.
“The hot one who looks like he wants to murder everyone.”
Rowan. I’d almost forgotten he was there, watching. Watching me dance. My stomach clenched.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I replied automatically.
Jules laughed, the sound pure and bright. “Honey, the way he watched you? You are at least something to him.”
No, he’s just pissed at me right now.
“I really don’t think he sees me that way.” I stumbled with my words, wondering why I felt so upset at them. He calls you princess and often mentions how much of a child you are. Not exactly boyfriend material.
Jules patted me affectionately. “Sometimes it takes a while to admit our feelings.”
I didn’t answer, just shouldered my bag and followed her back through the labyrinth of Oubliette’s backstage area. The walls pressed close, velvet and shadow as my shoulders drew tight with coiled nerves. I wondered what Rowan thought, then felt annoyed at myself for caring.
You didn’t perform for him though, I chided myself.
While I had never willingly performed for anyone in my previous life and Jules' words of affirmation did not hit the way I thought they would, I had wanted to impress Rowan.
Pride is a funny thing. It blooms in the strangest soil, grows thorns when you least expect them.
A few hundred feet ahead, I could see over Jules' head that Rowan was still hunched at the bar, his drink barely touched.
Despite the taut line in his shoulders, I was relieved.
Coming to Oubliette had been a gamble, and with how unsure I felt of how things would go, he had been my inadvertent anchor despite how annoyed I had been with his presence.
Now with his profile sharp in the low light, I steeled myself for the lecture I knew was coming.
As we passed a table, he stiffened. Instinctively, I followed his gaze to where two men and a woman were entangled in shadows, shameless in their public display.
One man’s face was buried between her thighs, the other stroking her neck.
But the light caught enough that I could see the second man’s mismatched and unblinking eyes.
Goosebumps erupted on my skin. His gaze was locked onto me, drinking in every movement.
I don’t like that look. I’d seen it before, in my previous life. The look of an aggressor marking prey.
Jules didn’t seem to notice, still chattering ahead of me about how impressed she was, long blonde tresses swaying as she walked, explaining how I was going to be a tough act to follow.
As we neared the bar, Rowan pushed off his stool, moving towards us with purpose and against my better judgement, my heart sped up.
Even with my heels, we were almost the same height which did little to diminish his suffocating presence.
Despite his white hair and icy eyes, Rowan had always held this dark demeanor of “don’t fuck with me.
” It had been infuriating growing up with him, but in that moment?
I was trying to ignore the mess between my legs.
Jules broke off to speak with Andy as Rowan’s hand found the small of my back, firm and possessive. “Time we go,” he said, voice clipped as he guided me towards the door.
I opened my mouth to argue, caught in the battle of fading adrenaline and arousal. “Rowan, I—"
“I have been patient enough, Violet.” He interrupted, his expression shifting to me. “We leave and if you put up a fight. . . you do not want things to go my way.”
I knew what lust looked like on a man. I’d seen it countless times on Edward and his clients but when Rowan’s eyes darkened, a lapse of judgement prompted me to say, “What if I want things to go your way?”
He stilled. I watched with rapt attention his adam’s apple move before he leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear lobe with delicate care. “Careful,” he warned. “I will not stop regardless of who is watching.”
And there go my knees. My body could not feel any hotter than it does right now.
Rowan pulled back and must have enjoyed the look on my face because he gave me that infuriating, knowing grin as his hand on my back reminded me to move as he pressed us forward. “Come on, princess.”
From behind, Jules shouted over the club music as we walked away, “See you on Friday, sweetie!”
Without slowing, Rowan asked, “What is Friday?”
I didn’t miss a beat. “The day after Thursday,” I replied as we squeezed between patrons.
“Not what I meant,” he huffed.