He breathes a laugh and steps past me into my small room, squeezing my hand as he does.
“And… it’s not a problem to bring my sister?”
“Of course not! I could never ask you to leave her behind.”
A flicker of relief moves through my heart. Gratitude is an emotion I can use to fight the pain. I focus on that and take his arm. “I’ve never traveled—”
“And you need a suitcase.”
“How did you know?”
He grins and touches my nose. “I guessed.”
He pulls out a thick leather wallet and hands me several hundred-dollar bills. My breath catches at the sight of them.
“Buy whatever you need. And don’t come back with anything left, so if you see a dress or two or a little treat, anything else you like…”
I step forward into his arms and hug him tightly. He chuckles and hugs me back. “You make me very happy, mon chou. I hope I do the same?”
His eyebrows arch as I look up at his face. “Thank you, Freddie.”
He leans forward and touches my lips with his, then pulls me into another hug. “God, I’m so happy to see you again. It felt like I was gone an eternity.”
He releases me. “Get some rest now, and I’ll pick you up around lunchtime, yes? What’s your address?”
“Here. I’ll be here saying goodbye.”
“Of course,” he smiles. “And I’ll be counting the minutes.”
Then with one last kiss, he bids me adieu.
The door closes, and I collapse into my chair. I lean forward on my dressing table as tears fill my eyes.
“Oh, Mark,” I whisper, eyes closed. “Mark…”
I ache for him, but I have to follow Roland’s instructions. I have to hold that pain away for a little while longer, until we’re safe. I lift my head slowly and stand, but in that moment I hear a voice in the passage.
“Just a quick visit.” It’s Guy, and panic grips me.
I break out in a cold sweat and quickly search for anything I can use as a weapon. My lamp? No. A shoe? No.
My door is still unlocked. I dash across the small room, but it’s too late. He shoves it open and knocks me back with it, standing tall in the doorway.
“There you are.” His gleaming eyes scan my body. “None the worse for wear, it seems, and I trust you’ve been dreaming of me?”
I’m screaming, scrambling to crawl away, but he lunges forward and grabs my arm, jerking me to my feet.
“Come now, let’s have a little kiss. We can catch up right here.”
He slides his hand inside my dressing gown, down below my waist, and presses the pad of his finger against places that haven’t healed.
My knees buckle, and I scream.
But just then I hear a hollow thump. Guy’s grip goes slack, and his expression changes. His eyes roll, and as I step aside, he drops like a stone onto my dressing room floor.
Roland steps over his body and tosses a wooden stage pin onto my bed.
“I saw him in the hall and got here as quick as I could.” He closes the door. “Change. Fast.”
My dressing gown slides to the floor, and Roland goes to my closet. I hear him quickly sliding hangers aside as he pulls my clothes out of the closet.
“You shouldn’t stay here tonight.”
I step into my jeans, my entire body shaking as I stare at my attacker lying powerless on the floor. The pressure of his fingers still echoes on my skin, on my hips. I look at the hand nearest me, at the golden pinky ring.
He strangled me with that hand. Images of the panic I felt flash through my brain. Images of the men beating Mark. I remember the noises of pain, the way Mark’s body slumped, but they never stopped beating him even after he was...
Tears flood my eyes, and I step over his leg and pick up the wooden stage pin from my bed. It’s the size of a baseball bat. I hold it a moment, testing its weight as I stare at Guy’s unconscious body.
It isn’t enough just to knock him out.
“You can leave this.” Roland’s back is to me. “Grab a bag. We haven’t a moment to lose.”
Just then Guy’s head moves. He makes a sound, and faster than I can think, I raise the pin over my head and slam it down as hard as I can on his skull. A dent appears in the side of his temple. It’s strangely satisfying, so I raise it again and slam it down, then I do it again harder.
My eyes are hot and damp, and a strange roaring fills my ears. I can barely breathe, but I keep slamming the pin into his skull. The dents turn into holes, and the holes turn into sticky red-brown mush. Particles fly up and stick to my face, and I keep slamming.
I hit him for raping Molly.
I hit him for raping me.
I hit him for hurting Roland.
I hit him for the men who viciously beat Mark.
I hit him for destroying my love.
I hit him for all the used-up dancer-whores he wanted to see die in the streets.
His head bounces slightly off the floor, so I hit him again for that.
It’s then I realize something is slipping, fumbling to catch my forearms. I hear myself screaming and close my mouth. Bright-red blood covers my arms and hands. It’s rushing out onto my dressing room floor like someone dropped a gallon of milk.
I’ve reduced Guy’s skull to a glittering black hole, and a sick satisfaction fills my stomach. I almost smile.
That’s enough.
He’ll never hurt anyone again.
“Oh, God.” Roland holds the bloody pin. “Oh, God, Lara.”
He steps across the body, drops the weapon, and rips the sheet from my bed, doubling it then folding it again before wrapping it fast around Guy’s head. He wraps it several times, covering the bleeding pulp like a turban then he stands back and stares at it.
“He’s dead.” His hands shake as he wipes them on a towel. “Clean yourself. You’ve got to get out of here.”
For a moment I don’t move. I wait for the fear to come, the guilt.
All I feel is glad.
“Don’t stand there staring, clean up! Get your clothes!”
I pull out a makeup remover wipe and clean my arms. Then I take my black sweater and pull it over my head.
Once I’m dressed, Roland takes my hand and leads me over Guy’s dead body to the doorway.
“The sheet will hold him for now, but you can’t stay here. I’ll make sure Molly stays with Evie then come back and dispose of the body. You’ve got to stay at Mark’s.”
I freeze. “I can’t do that. I can’t go there without him.”
“I don’t have anyone else I trust to keep you, and if I get caught… you can’t be here.”
“I won’t let you take the blame. I’ll stay and help you.”
“If someone calls the police, murder won’t be the only charge brought against us. You’ve got to hide until you leave with Freddie, whether it’s at Mark’s or somewhere else. Now come on.”
We creep into the passage, and Roland pulls out a key, locking my room. A door slams a little further down, and we both jump, setting off in a run. Around two corners and down another narrow passage, and we’re at the opposite door. I stop as he helps me into his overcoat and hat.