Page 101 of Off the Rails

It was quiet in here now, the end of the night shift having sent most of the other girls home. Packing up my bag, I sent Nash and Blade a text:

Done. See you in the lot in five.

I wouldn’t admit it to their faces but I was a little disappointed that they couldn’t come tonight. My best dancing seemed to happen when they were in the audience.

They had some errands to run apparently, something they weren’t ready to explain to me.

My phone dinged with a message from Blade:

Be there soon, Trinket. Wait inside til we get there

Peeling off the fishnet tights and black, bedazzled bra, I stuffed the clothes into my duffel. I threw on a gray sweatsuit and a soft, cotton bra. The sweatshirt was cropped just above my belly button, still letting some air in.

I ran a makeup wipe over my face, tossing it in the trash before counting my tips for the night and shoving them into my wallet.

Once I was packed up, I thought about staying in the dressing room. But it was hot in there, a humid heat hanging in the air from all the curling irons and blow dryers that had been used over the day. And the concrete walls didn’t help with ventilation.

Instead, I slung my duffel over my shoulder and walked out toward Nico’s office. Poking my head inside, I gripped the metal doorframe. “Hey, Nico. I’m heading out.”

Looking up from the books, Nico rubbed her forehead. “Thanks, Tess. It’s good to have you back.”

She was a tall woman with broad shoulders and a deep voice — a former bouncer who’d worked her way up to the big desk. But from the stress on her face, it was clear that the promotion had added a whole lot of stress to her plate.

“Thanks, I'm glad to be back.” I smiled before pushing off the frame and heading for the back exit.

Pressing the long metal bar, the door flung open and a gust of cool, late September air smacked my face.

My stomach clenched as I felt the wind on my skin, glad that I’d worn something heavy. It was my favorite time of year, warm during the day and a gentle chill at night.

Leaning against the concrete wall, I put my sneakered-foot up against the exterior of Velvet Paradise. I let my head roll back, look up at the faded stars overhead. It was hard to see them closer to Valemont, nowhere near as crystal clear as they were over Feverpoint.

I wasn’t sure when the park had started to feel like home. But there was no denying that it had been more of a comfort to me than anywhere else.

Maybe it was just the reliability, or maybe it was the three masked clowns who inhabited it.

A bang drew my eyes down.

Squinting in the darkness, I tried to make out where the scuffling was coming from. Across the road, and in a dark alley, a tall man loomed over a short woman.

My neck stretched, trying to get a better look. His arm was grabbing her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled.

Her reply was murmured, something I couldn’t make out from Velvet Paradise.

Pushing off the wall, I started across the parking lot. The woman’s face was scrunched up, a deep pout on her lips as she tried to assuage the man’s anger. The hood over his head obscured his face — and his intentions — in the heavy shadows of the alley.

But he gripped her harder, his voice too low of a hiss for me to hear.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Get your hands off of her!”

Picking up my pace, I began to jog just as a huge SUV pulled into the club parking lot.

Blade must have seen me running, hopping out of the Cadillac before the car even stopped moving. And Nash was close behind her, following me across the lot. My eyes caught on the shimmering metal rod in Blade’s palm.

Nash and Blade slipped on their clown masks, the plaster and porcelain disguising their faces from the man they were running up on.

More heavy footsteps came from behind me, my eyes only catching on Cyrus’ stitched up mask. In the dramatic light of the parking lot, the masks were scarier than I’d become used to.