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The hoop stops spinning and I’m lowered to the ground. My heart beats wildly in my chest. I fall to my knees and the lights go out. It's deafening in the room. I can feel heat from his stare scorch my body, feel the piercing gaze of the stranger in the crowd.
It all ends as fast as it began. I’m ushered off stage for the next round of performers. In our backstage area, I quickly change out of my wet ensemble and slip into my black, wrap dress.
“Knock, knock.” Larry Dean’s voice calls from outside the door. It's only Lyla and me in the room and we’re both dressed.
“Come in!” She laughs then yells.
I plug my hair dryer in and try to find a way to fix what is left of my makeup.
“Great job out there, J,” Larry tells me and gives me two thumbs up. Larry is an older man and is in charge of keeping the talent happy. He’s sweet most of the time and grouchy other times. But he’s not sleazy and he never propositions the girls or leers at them.
“Thanks, Larry.” I smile at him and he exchanges some conversation with Lyla.
I’m about to ask a question when he places his fingers against his earpiece. He must be receiving instructions because he grabs his walkie-talkie next and repeats their code for understanding “Roller.”
His kind eyes find mine in the mirror. “It sounds like there is a gentleman out there who is wanting to meet you.”
My pulse skyrockets and I exchange a look with Lyla. Her mouth drops open and her eyes are wide.
“Who?”
Larry shrugs. “I’m not sure. They were approached by a member of the casino and he asked to meet you.”
“Suit guy,” Lyla breathes out.
My stomach flutters. “Can you give me ten minutes, Larry?” I point to my hair dryer.
“No rush, sweetheart. I’ll keep him occupied until you’re done.”
“Unless he gives you creepy vibes, Larry. Then please make me an excuse, like I got food poisoning or something.” I shudder and Larry laughs.
“You got it, kid.” And with that, he leaves the room.
“Jade,” Lyla is jumping up and down with excitement, “Ohmigawd, what if it is him?”
I don’t tell her how nervous I am. It's been a long time since the idea of a man has excited me. I usually tend to focus on two things: work and my performances. I rarely date. I can’t even remember the last time I had sex with someone. Being on the run will do that to a girl.
I bolted from my hometown the day before my graduation. After convincing my guidance counselor I wasn’t safe any longer, she agreed to get my diploma for me early, as I had graduated with perfect scores. I only missed the formality of walking across the stage. My mom didn’t care and neither did I. She was already disappointed in me that I missed my last audition and had no offers from either school. I felt like I was more of a burden to her if I stayed. I don’t even know if she took the time to look at me. To see the way I hobbled around the house with a cracked rib. It’s not like I could dance, even if I had wanted to. My dream died. The future I had so closely in my grasp vanished in a night.
The news of Corey’s death hit the town hard. The rate of violence skyrocketed, which only proved exactly how unstable everything was and how tightly tied in Rip and Corey were. I couldn’t go to the funeral. My face was black and blue for almost a week before it changed to a subtle green and yellow. I haven’t brought myself to forgive him yet. I wanted so badly to mourn the person I thought he was, but the more I dug and the deeper I made my way through that folder Onyx gave me, the more scared I became.
Then the threats started. I received texts and letters under my door that Corey’s death was my fault and that I would pay. I was followed home and terrorized in my apartment. Someone would sit outside my door and bang until I broke down crying and was hiding in my closet. I couldn’t leave the house. I had panic attacks anytime my mom left to go to work.
Worse, Harper was pregnant. She swore it was Corey’s. The weekend before he attacked me, they had been together. She also blamed me for his death because he couldn’t let me go. I lost my last friend for good and decided it was time to bail.
I landed in Missouri first and stayed until fall. The more distance I put between myself and my hometown, the better I started to feel. The nightmares didn’t haunt me. Things were going fairly well until I realized how many guys from my high school were moving there to play football. I didn’t want to chance someone figuring out who I was and causing issues. In mid-December, I found myself in Las Vegas: a place where I could be who I wanted and dress the part of someone else. I changed everything about myself on the outside to match the conflicting emotions I carried around on the inside. I worked low-key jobs as a cocktail waitress, at tourist shops and exhibits. Soon I learned, just like everyone else, where the easiest money with the biggest payout was.
I started stripping for a week before I was let go. It was my first streak of bad luck. It took almost two months before I was scouted by a talent director at La Flor and asked to audition. Now I have free rein over my line-up, my outfits, and I work all the busy weekends, making the most money.
This wasn’t my dream life; I never thought this was where I would be at twenty-one years old. I’m completely alone, no family or friends, except for the girls I dance with here at La Flor. I often think about the college I didn’t go to. Of the dance teams I didn’t join. Of the stages I’ll never perform on. My dream died the night Onyx walked away for the second time, the same night my best friend took his own life after attempting to rape me, and almost seriously injuring me. My only dream after that was to survive.
“Jade?” Lyla calls my name again, her eyes narrowing on me.
“Sorry,” I say and flick away some of the black liner under my eyes. “I’m just distracted. I don’t like not knowing who I’m meeting.”
“It will be fine,” she assures me. “I’ve done it a few times. Plus, if they’re large sponsors that helps our show. The boss lady loves that.”
I agree with Lyla and finish getting ready. My hair hangs in waves down my back and I’ve fixed my makeup enough that I don’t look like a raccoon but also not like a sparkly Barbie. I quickly change into a pair of tight-fitting jeans and my favorite white tank top. I slide on a pair of my cherry red combat boots and leather jacket before I grab my bags last.
