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Stolen Dance
Echo
I approach the club with a sense of dread curling in my stomach, a ball of anxiety and, for the first time in a long time, regret.
Idon’tregret. The feeling is more than unsettling.
Making my way up to the doors, I notice even Pedro’s usually sunny demeanor is stifled, though he does manage to give me a wan smile.
“Hey, pretty lady,” he says, and I give him a smile that I’m sure resembles a grimace.
“That bad in there?”
He nods solemnly. “You heard, huh? The cops just left this afternoon. Everyone still got their panties in a bunch but looks like we’ll be open tonight on schedule.”
I thank him for the info and head inside. The brighter lights are on and it’s strange to see the usually energetic, yet dark, club so illuminated. People are moving around and setting up chairs and fixtures, and the energy is frantic and fearful.
I swallow deeply but plaster a smile on my face and head toward the back like usual. A few of the girls nod in my direction, but everyone is talking in hushed voices, so different from the usual hustle. I don’t see Savannah anywhere, so I assume she must still be too bruised to work.
My eyes move over the rest of the club before a voice has me turning.
“Echo, good to have you back.”
“Interesting time to have been away,” I comment lightly and Dee’s lips tighten. The lines of her face look more pronounced than usual, no surprise considering what she’s likely been dealing with. The guilt sits like a rock in my stomach, an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling.
“Anything I can help with?”
Dee looks at me a moment and I think she’s going to refuse, but she takes my arm lightly and pulls me aside. Her voice is low.
“It’s been a long time since something like this has happened here,” she tells me, “I know this isn’t your first time working somewhere like this, you know how important morale is, and well….”
She waves her hand in the direction of the girls, and I give a small knowing nod.
“But when one of our own dies, it kills the energy and vibe. I get it. What can I do?” I finish for her. She gives me a sad smile, bringing a hand up to my cheek to pat it lightly. Strangely, I don’t find it patronizing.
“I’m giving you two sets tonight, Annika’s and your own. You’ll be on early and then again later. Show these girls how to use it. You know what I mean.”
This time my responding smile is honest.
If there is anything I can do well, turning pain into something beautiful is it.
The lights shift and the first few cords start to play. Arturo outdid himself on my makeup tonight. Since I’m still so bruised, I was granted a stunning purple satin corset instead of the usual full body paint outfit. The familiar tightness around my chest brings me back to my youth, the first days I spent on a pole. Back before I was broken.
My body twists and sways to the music, and I let myself forget for a moment. Forget about my past and the things I've done, the revenge I seek. Forget about Killian and how he tugs my heart and mind apart string by string. I forget about the innocent girl I unwittingly killed by my actions.
All of my pain and remorse pour out of me onto the stage.
I forget where I am and what I'm doing as I move to the music, dropping to the ground with dramatic flourish at the last beat. The crowd roars, sucking in all the emotion pouring out from me. I am no golden goddess. I’m a fucking Valkyrie of pain and death.
For the first time in my career, I ignore the money lying around and walk off the stage. I don't register the tears streaming down my face.
I sit at one of the vanities staring at the makeup that's untouched by tears. Cocking my head to the side, I look at the shape of my face, so different from the one I used to know.
I’ve always figured that people choose their own actions and should live by their decisions without complaint or regret. The girls who work here know the kind of world they are getting into, and anyone who puts powder up their nose should know the risk. Even still, the regret that sits heavy inside me is something I’ve never truly experienced, not like this.
Do I know myself at all?
"Echo?" a small voice says from behind me. I blink and look up into the mirror to see one of Annika's friends standing beside me. Lana, I think her name is.
