Rouge (27 page)

He breathed and went to the door, but before he left he stopped. “Whatever happens, I gave you a choice. You made this decision.”

Beau was missing the entire day, and it wasn’t until the final number that I saw him again. I was panicky knowing what was coming, and as we rushed together high above the audience, I nearly broke down and told him everything, begged him to take me away from this night. But if I didn’t go, she would. I had to face my terrible obligation, and I couldn’t entangle him in it.

His arm searched to hold my waist through the plumage, and I grasped his shoulders, lightly pressing my painted cheek to his. Our embrace was awkward, but my heart ached for it to last.

“I’m sorry I was gone today.” he whispered, kissing my temple, the top of my ear. “Mastiff sent me on so many long errands, and he has another for me after the show.”

My pulse quickened. I knew why Mastiff would be sending him away.

“All I could think of was you,” he looked into my eyes and smiled. “I’ll come back tonight if you’ll let me in.”

I smiled and nodded. Even with my promise hanging over me, all day my thoughts had drifted to last night—his strong arms around me, his gentle touch, how beautiful and amazing and completely different it had been when we came together. I lightly kissed his cheek once more as he helped me take my seat.

So many times this transition had seemed to take forever, and now it was flying past. I swallowed my tears wishing with everything in me that tonight could be different, that I could go down after this song, remove my costume and my makeup, brush my hair and wait for him to return to me. But I couldn’t.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, a frown touching his brow. “You seem troubled.”

“I’m okay,” I whispered, forcing a smile.

He lifted my palm to his lips, and again, tears threatened to spoil my makeup. I looked up at the ropes overhead and blinked them away. The bench began to move, and my smile turned rapturous for the final song. The music began, the light hit me, and my voice rang out as I soared over the dazzled audience. Glancing back, I saw him still standing there, a warm smile, holding the rope.

* * *

Rosa
was waiting in my dressing room after the show to help me change. I was focused as I quickly removed my costumes and cleaned my face. She helped me pull out the pins and then brushed my hair.

“I rounded up as many undergarments as I could find,” she said under her breath. “The longer it takes him to get to you, the more time for it to work.”

I nodded, chewing my lip. It had to work. My throat was completely dry. So much depended on everything going exactly as planned tonight.

“He’s not coming to get you,” she continued. “You’ll have to go there alone and wait for him.”

I nodded again, looking down at the tiny gold band on my finger. I quickly slipped my arms into white, opera-length gloves.

“Remember,” she said, tying the final lace and turning me to face her. “Don’t touch anything.”

In Guy’s salon deep beneath the theater, the food was laid out on small platters all around us. A decanter of wine sat on the little table and by the chaise lounge was a tiny plate of fruit and a small bowl of what looked like powdered sugar to dip it in.
My throat closed up
knowing all of it could kill me.

My instructions to meet him were no doubt an effort to avoid another scene like the one before our previous encounter. I was sure Mastiff’s errand for Beau was also part of the plan. So I waited. I walked around the immaculately clean room inspecting all the food and drinks. I walked to the fireplace and inspected the little clocks and miniatures situated there. One was of a shepherd boy with light brown hair and blue eyes, and my thoughts traveled to Beau. I wondered where they’d sent him, and my thumb touched the tiny gold band through my glove. I ached for him.

Rosa
had collected a floor-length gown, complete with corset, petticoat, and pantalets for me to wear. It was up to me to get some food or wine into Guy before he hurt me. I was starting to grow weary from the anticipation and dread when the door finally opened and he entered the room. My heart began to thud. He was already unfastening his waistcoat, but when he saw me, he paused and inhaled sharply. His green eyes narrowed.

“You look just like her.”

I didn’t know what he meant or what to say, but I wasn’t interested in finding out. My focus was on eating and drinking.

“I wanted to play dress up for you,” I said in a babyish voice. “You like it?”

His eyes took on an evil gleam, and he smiled, walking to me as he continued unbuttoning his coat. “We won’t waste time tonight. I’ve waited long enough.”

Panic tightened my chest. “But look at all these wonderful things! Surely you want to taste one?”

I gestured at the deadly small plates and platters, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. “We’ll eat after. No interruptions this time.”

His fingers flexed, and my throat grew tight as he crossed the room to me and grasped my waist. He turned me around to face the fireplace and quickly began unlacing my dress. My heart was pounding in my ears as my mind raced for any way to slow things down, to make him consume something.

“Then a glass of wine at least?”

I stepped out of his reach toward the small table. I lifted the decanter and poured a glass before turning to him. My dress was loosening with every movement now that my laces were undone.

“Drink it yourself,” he said as he sat to remove his boots. Once off, he paused a moment to study me. “You look so much like her.”

This time I grasped at his comment, hoping it would buy me time. “Who do I look like?”

He walked to me, lifted a dark lock and rolled it over his wrist. He pulled it to his nose and sniffed. “Your mother was a beautiful woman. Heartbreakingly beautiful.”

My pulse ticked up at his strange words, his unexpected warmth. But he threw my hair behind my shoulder, instantly cold again. “She was also a thief and a liar.”

“I-I don’t know—”

“Your father came here, and she forgot everything we’d done for her. All the time we’d spent fixing her teeth and buying her dresses.”

“She was grateful,” I smiled, trying to bring the mood back around. “I remember her speaking fondly of you.”

“That’s a lie,” he snapped, and it was true. I’d never heard anyone speak of Guy. He was the best-kept evil secret at our cabaret. “She hated me. But I handled her.”

I was struggling to breathe smoothly. “Let’s have some wine. It’ll help us relax.”

“No.”

He jerked me around and pushed my dress forward, down my arms and to the floor. I yelped and reached to grip the mantle for balance.

“I used to imagine her as an Art Nouveau.” He turned me back around and studied my face then leaned in close and whispered. “Perhaps you could take her place.”

His mouth was just above my nose, and the faint scent of cloves was on his breath. Hot liquid rose in my throat. I didn’t understand his meaning, but I smiled.

“That sounds interesting. Here.” I lifted the glass of wine, hoping he didn’t notice my trembling hands, and I stepped back praying he would drink it. I held my breath as he raised it to his lips, but then he stopped and slammed the glass down.

“Ungrateful river rats. None of them would be here if it weren’t for me.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I swiftly calculated how fast things were moving, how agitated he was, his strength. Time was slipping away, and I was losing the upper hand.

“I chose them. Hand-picked each of them off the streets where they were starving, living as thieves. And she turned them all against me. All to save that little pouf.”

“Maybe they wanted to thank you, but they didn’t know how.”

He glared at me, but unthinkably he snorted a bitter laugh and walked to the small table, dropping his cufflinks in the dish. I started to breathe again.

“No love was lost on me.” His eyes returned to my body, now clad only in a corset and petticoats. As they traveled down my form, I shivered. “They all loved your father, though.”

He crossed back and took a handful of hair from my shoulder. He jerked my head to the side and pressed his lips roughly to my neck. A startled cry flew from my throat as his hand clutched at my breast over my corset. He was suckling my neck, and as he pressed himself against me, I felt him hard on my leg. The bile rose again in my throat. He groaned, pulling and licking me, and I tried to slide away, tried not to retch, remembering the mark he’d left on Teeny. He lifted his head and turned me around, pulling the ribbon that held my petticoats.

“It didn’t matter what he was.” His breath was ragged, his hands quickly moving over my clothes. “He was an
artist
.”

His fingers returned to my hair and he pulled my head roughly back against his shoulder, causing me to cry out again. “Your mother followed him like a puppy. Nothing Gavin would say could change her mind.”

His hands slid down the front of my corset. My heart was hammering, and I didn’t know what to do. He shoved my petticoats to the floor then stopped.

“Pantalets!” He spun me around again, eyes gleaming with anger. Then he jerked me close to his face, and I knew my plan was failing fast. “Another trick?”

“Please,” I said. His grip loosened a fraction, and I took that chance to jump away from him, going around the small table for protection. “Let’s slow down and have some refreshment. I’m so tired from the show. I’m sure it would help me.”

He closed the space between us, catching the table and sending it crashing against the other wall, decanter and all. Then with both hands he grabbed my neck and began to squeeze.
He was strangling me
. My feet barely touched the floor
, and desperately I clawed at his fingers, trying to tear them off.

“I’m not interested in how
you
feel.”

I couldn’t breathe. My eyes were hot in their sockets, and my nose started to run as his grip on my neck tightened.
Tears flooded my eyes as w
hite flashed before my vision
. Then
he leaned forward and whispered.

“Who’s winning now, Opal? Who’ll save you this time?”

I was losing consciousness. I hadn’t considered that he might kill me, but he laughed and threw me back against the wall where I collapsed, lying against the floor and gasping for breath. He walked to me and leaned in close to my ear. In a low voice, he said his final words.

“You think you’ll tell me what I can’t have? You think you have that power? She’s next.”

I screamed and clawed the rug, trying to pull myself to the door, but he lunged forward and caught me, preventing my exit. I twisted away and ran back to the other side of the room, but he was on me fast, pinning my arms with one hand and searching my waist with the other.

He found the top of my pantalets and ripped them away. I screamed and buckled my knees. I tried to curl into a ball, but the wicked corset kept my back straight. I pushed against it anyway, and the bones dug mercilessly into my stomach.

He laughed and lifted me, shoving me face-first onto the chaise and gripping my arm with such force, I screamed again. But all my screams were buried in the velvet pillows at the back of the lounge.
I braced myself, tensing every muscle as he forced his way into my body
, painfully as
a knife
, shredding all my dreams
.

* * *

The next time I opened my eyes, everything hurt.

I was alone in my small bed, and I tried to move. But my body shook as if my muscles were too weak to support me.

So I didn’t move.

I lay motionless, facing the wall.

My throat hurt from screaming and my stomach cramped. Light from the window above said it was afternoon
.

The passage was unusually quiet for a Saturday, but I didn’t care.

Nothing mattered now.

I didn’t remember at what point I lost consciousness, so I wasn’t sure how I came to be here. I opened a small door on the memory of last night, but at the sight of green eyes, I slammed it shut again. I didn’t want to remember what had happened back there.

Not ever.

I heard someone enter the room. It was a woman from the sound of rustling petticoats, but I didn’t move as she walked to the bed and leaned over me.

I heard her breathe and recognized her sigh.

Evie.

“Will you eat?” she whispered. She stood waiting, but I didn’t respond. “I told Roland you wouldn’t sing tonight.”

I’ll never sing again.

“He begged to see you, but I told him to wait.” Then I felt the bed depress as she sat beside me. Her hand went to my arm and began to rub. “He was a wreck when we finally got to you. Guy was gone or I swear Roland would’ve killed him with his bare hands.”