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CHAPTER46
Evie
We’ve been moving around the center of the room, visiting the stalls arranged against the wall. In the center is a big black tent cordoned off by a ring of golden rope. But I’ve yet to see an entrance to it, or anyone even attempting to get inside it.
It’s as if it doesn’t exist, the gathered people seeming to look past it.
But when Owen leads me out of that alcove, he heads straight for it.
We go around to the far side of the tent, and my heart skips a beat when I see two bouncers in smart black suits flanking a narrow entrance. There’s a flap split down the middle that keeps whatever’s going on inside hidden from view, and that just amps up my nerves… and my curiosity.
Owen takes five golden coins out of his pocket and hands them to the buzz-cut bouncer on the left. The man takes it with a scarred, tattooed hand, his slightly shorter, tanned friend clipping open the rope for us to step through into the dimly lit tent. It’s as though I’m invisible. As we pass, neither of the bouncers so much as a glance in my direction. Even on the way over here from the alcove, it was like I didn’t exist.
It’s exciting. Freeing.
If no one can see me, how can they judge me?
The only thing that’s changed is the collar, so that must be it. I finger it as Owen opens the flap for us to go through. I turn to smile at him, but realize he can’t see me behind the mask.
Music swells around me, a jaunty tune that makes me wonder if a clown is going to appear on the stage built of wooden boards situated in the middle of this odd spectacle. It reminds me of a circus tent, although it’s much smaller. The musty air smells faintly of wood and leather. A handful of spotlights shine onto the stage, illuminating the dust motes floating in the air.
I grip Owen’s hand as he leads us right to the front of the rows of seats. There are golden cushions for us to sit on too.
From what I’ve seen so far, I’m not surprised. I’m sure more than one patron has a sore ass… and not just from a good old spanking.
I’m jittery with excitement. There aren’t many people inside this tent, and they all face the small stage with obvious anticipation.
“What kind of show is this?” I whisper to Owen.
He says nothing, but he’s gripping my hand as tightly as I’m gripping his.
Weird.
I look around, soaking in every inch of the place as I shift on my cushion. Honestly, it’s not asniceas the rest of the… what did Owen call this place? The Dancing Fox? There’s a bit of hay on the floor, and some of the benches are a little dusty.
Slowly, my eager anticipation turns to cold dread.
I try to pull my hand out of Owen’s, but he just tightens his grip.
“What is this?” I say, not bothering to keep my voice low.
“Ssh,” Owen murmurs, dragging my hand into his lap. “It’s about to start.”
I settle back, licking suddenly dry lips. That jaunty tune is on repeat, and it’s starting to become jarring. “I don’t like this.” I try for meek, and probably fail. “Can we go?”
“Hush, toy.” Owen gives me a sidelong look. “I paid a lot of money for this.”
“So?” I tug at my hand again. “I want to leave.”
He watches me for a second before lifting my hand under his mask and giving my knuckles a soft kiss. “Trust me… you’re going to love this.”
The music switches to a new tune. It’s much louder, accompanied by the heavyboom-boom-boomof big bass drums. Someone staggers onto the stage as if they were pushed from the sidelines.
I sit up straight in my seat.
The guy is naked but for the leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles. And then there’s the weird belt around his waist.
“Is this some kind of trapeze act?” I ask in a thin voice. I glance around, trying to figure out just what the hell I’m in store for… and that’s when I see the camera stand. A red light glows, whoever’s doing the recording hidden in deep shadows.
