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“No,” she said. “I just know you.” She stalked to the door, swinging her hips in triumph.

“Emily Alice Gladwin. Her birthday is on June 22nd, a Cancerian, I believe. She’s twenty-three, lives in Elephant and Castle with her mum and stepfather, the same stepfather she’s had since she was a toddler. She has two younger sisters, half-sisters. Phoebe and Kate. They have hamsters, a cat too, Pickles. She’s been working here two years and three months. This is her first main job, before this she worked part-time in the same shop as her mum.” I watched Faye’s eyes widen. “Oh, and she wants to be a writer. I’m sure she told you that already during your cosy little heart to heart. Maybe you can give her some tips? Call up good old Vincent for some writing advice? I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear from you. Did you actually manage to say goodbye, or did you bail onhimin the middle of the night, too?”

Her face bloomed like a slapped arse. “Stop it.”

“Fucking hell. You did bail, didn’t you?” I couldn’t resist a bitter laugh. “That really is your modus operandi, isn’t it? Faye Devere, disappears in a puff of smoke when the going gets too fucking tough for her. No grit, that’s your problem, no sense of commitment.”

“You have no idea what happened in Italy, Andy. No fucking idea why I left.”

“At least I’m not the only one you mugged off. Did you drophimright in the shit, too? Or was that just me?”

She turned the doorhandle, but her eyes stayed on mine, simmering. Something else, too, the thin line of her lips quivered for just a heartbeat. “You can be such a spiteful prick, Andy. I really don’t know why I came back here.”

I’d pushed it too far, and I knew it, but my ego stormed on ahead of me. “You know where the fucking door is, Faye. Don’t let me stop you.”

She didn’t. She stormed right out and didn’t even give me the finger.

***

Faye

“Such a pretty bird. My Magpie. My beautiful Magpie.”

He taps the crop underneath my chin until my eyes lift to his.

“Smile for me, pretty bird.”

My smile is hollow. Sad. Vincent doesn’t care, though, just as long as I’m smiling.

“You know it’s all a show out there, don’t you? It’s theatre, Magpie, nothing more. They don’t mean anything to me. Not like you, not like my precious bird.”

The gentle caress of his fingers on my cheek, and I’m kissing them. He pushes his thumb into my mouth.

“Show me what you want, sweet bird.”

I suck on him, my eyes hooded as I stare into the darkness in his. My lips make slurping noises, little suckles that make him gulp. I watch his throat move.

“This is what matters... Only us... This is what’s real...”

A tear spills down my cheek and I don’t make any effort to hide it. I can hear the revelry so close, the rhythmic waltz of sex and pain.

“Is my pretty bird going to sing for the crowd? You break so beautifully, my sweet Faye. Such an exquisite gift. It would be a crime to keep you all to myself.”

The crop on my skin, tickling along my collarbone, and down, to my naked breasts. I keep sucking on his thumb, and he groans his approval. It’s the sweetest sound. The only sound. “I know what you need, hungry girl.”

He pulls away, wiping his thumb across my lips. A moment before the camera clicks. My eyes are heavy with tears. “Such beautiful sadness,” he whispers. “You look magical. Truly magical.”

He fastens me into the mask, a half-face of black and white feathers and swirling glitter. I’m pulled to my feet, my hands so small in his.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he smiles. “Remember, you sacrifice your body for my pleasure.” He kisses my cheek, and I’m smiling again. “Showtime,” he grins, and pulls open the curtain.

So many eyes, so many hands, and I’m lost. I drop to my knees, cry out at the vicious fingers on my breasts and between my legs.

A woman’s tongue against my lips. “She tastes so sweet,” she laughs. “Open wide.”

Her fingers prise my mouth open and a dick fills it. My eyes dart around as I suck. Musky, thick and deep, my eyes stream as I retch, and people are laughing. My heart pounds as I catch sight of Vincent, he’s a few feet away, not far. I cry out for him, but it’s muffled by the cock in my throat. The bodies shift between us, and I see him more clearly.

And her, I see her, too. The same woman it’s been every night this week.

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