Rouge (22 page)

Another bustling in the hall caused us to look up. It was Beau, and he was also frowning as he strode toward us.

“Hale? What’s going on?” he said, but Roland stepped out and blocked his path.

“Best head on home now,” Roland said. “Hale will see you tomorrow.”

Beau tried to push past him, but the two struggled until Mastiff stepped up and took Beau’s arm. “Come on, son,” he said, smiling apologetically.

“I’m not leaving.” Beau shoved his arm back. He pushed forward again, but Roland held him. “What’s going on?” He demanded.

My eyes grew damp and for a moment, I saw myself running to him. Letting him sweep me far away from this terror. But I wouldn’t leave Teeny. Instead, I went into my dressing room, and with trembling hands, I began removing my false eyelashes, my makeup, and taking down my hair. He couldn’t stop what was coming, what had always been coming.

“Give me five minutes,” I said.

Gavin backed up and turned to walk away, back down the dark passage without another word.

“Fine. Make yourself comfortable,” Guy said, his green eyes gleaming. “I’ll wait.”

I could still hear the shuffling of feet and grunts as Mastiff and Roland muscled Beau back down the hallway and through the exit. I heard him call my name once more before the metal door slammed shut, and my stomach clenched. Then the banging started. I could hear Beau’s voice just faintly shouting from outside.

“He’s not going to stop,” Teeny whispered. She was sitting on the bed, wide-eyed
, hugging her waist
. “I’m letting him in.”

My eyes flashed at her. “Don’t you dare,” I said. “He can’t know about this.”

She turned and fell back on the bed starting to cry. “This is all my fault.”

“That’s not true,” I said, grabbing my red velvet dressing gown. I picked up the absinthe spoon I had lifted from
Rosa
’s collection. It had a sharp point, and if worse came to worse, it was possible I’d be strong enough to use it. I returned to the passageway where Guy was waiting. His eyes traveled the length of my body and he smiled.

“
Enchanté
,” he muttered, taking my hand. “This way, m’lady.”

I nodded, allowing him to lead me down the hall, past Evie’s room and away from the noise of backstage. We didn’t go where I expected—down the narrow stairway that led to the small rooms in the back. Instead we turned right and descended a different stairway to the trap room beneath the stage. We walked through the large, open area and then passed through another door and then another into a small sitting room lined in black wallpaper, embossed with a black velvet floral design.

Two chairs stood before a small table, which had an ornate Tiffany lamp in the center, but we didn’t stop. He hastened me into another, larger room and closed the door behind us. I scanned the area. All the walls were lined in the same embossed fabric, this time in deep red, and in one corner was a red velvet chaise lounge.

In the center of the room, a smaller table was placed between two red velvet armchairs. Enormous mirrors hung on every wall, and the fireplace mantle was decorated with cut-glass lamps and small portraits. I’d never seen this place before. It felt far from the theater and any help that might be back there for me.

“Hungry?” he asked, lifting a plate of tiny cakes from the table. They reminded me of the one that had been left in my dressing room after my accident. The light glinted off his pinky ring, and I took one. Eating was the farthest thing from my mind, but I needed to stall and watch for any chance to get the advantage.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“My private suite.”

He walked around behind me, slid my hair back and sniffed my neck. Chills flew down my arms. “I’ll just have a lock of your hair, yes?”

I
tensed
, but a light tap at the door interrupted us. Guy stepped to answer it, and Roland entered, carrying a crystal decanter on a tray with two tumblers.

Guy smiled at him. “Ah, my first little conquest.”

Roland gave him a tight smile, and my stomach lurched as I realized the meaning of his words. My friend appeared unfazed by the reference.

“Sazerac,” he said, placing the tray on the smaller table. I studied the amber liquid.

“You know I prefer Chartreuse,” Guy snapped.

“Chartreuse isn’t as popular, I’m afraid, and it’s hard to keep fresh when so few drink it. This should satisfy.” Roland’s eyes met mine briefly as he turned and walked back to the door.

“Sure you won’t stay?” Guy called after him. “I always enjoy a
ménage
.”

I thought I might be ill, but Roland only paused and smiled back. “I’m sure I’m too old for you now.” Then he disappeared through the door.

“Arrogant little pouf,” Guy muttered walking to the table.

I watched as he removed his dark green overcoat and draped it on one of the chairs. His trousers were tan as was his shirt with French cuffs. His skin was pale and he lifted the decanter, pouring the cocktail into two short glasses holding thin lemon rinds. He handed one to me and lifted his to the light.

“He knows I hate absinthe,” he said. “But we’ll sample it anyway.”

“I don’t drink—”

“You will tonight,” he cut me off. Then he clinked our glasses, and I watched as he took a sip. I followed suit and wrinkled my nose. The flavor was sharp and burning. It made me think of licorice and bitter trees, and underneath… something vaguely familiar.

I went to stand by the fireplace. “What do I do?”

He followed me, taking another sip. “We’ve got all night to find out.”

I cringed and took another, longer drink, draining my glass. Then I gazed at the crackling fire, thinking of another girl in a room filled with Mardi Gras decorations.

“I don’t know much. I’ve never been with a man that way.”

He looked me up and down. “That’s the point.”

Then he turned and walked back to the small table, taking one of the little cakes from the tray. “I trust you enjoyed my little gift?” He took a bite and then dropped into one of the chairs, studying me.

My brow wrinkled. “Gift?”

“The petit four? I left it in your dressing room the day I returned. I’d hoped to see you then.”

A cold chill passed over me. The mysterious little cake had been from Guy. He’d been in my room without me knowing it. How many times?

“I didn’t know it was from you.” I tried to hide the fear in my voice as my fingers slid to the sharp edges of the absinthe spoon hidden in my robe.

“Very disappointing to get back after all these years and not see you perform,” he sighed, crossing his leg and taking another bite. “Especially since I dreamed up that swing number just for you.”

“That was your idea?” I rolled it all back through my mind. Gavin’s sudden appearance at every rehearsal, his changing the show, dropping my necklines. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to find the little morsel you’ve been hiding in your room. She’s very beautiful.”

My chest tightened and I turned back to the mantle, swallowing the knot in my throat. “She’s not for you.”

He stood and quickly crossed to where I stood. “Everything is for me if I want it.”

My heart was thudding in my chest, and I tried to calm my breathing. He poured us both more of the bitter cocktail and seemed to calm again as he took a sip. I lifted my glass and took a long drink, hoping to steady my nerves.

My golden locket caught on my arm, and Guy took it in his hand. “What’s this?” He flicked it open and pulled the small picture to his face.

“My suitor, Freddie Lovel,” I said, setting my now-empty tumbler back on the mantle.

He laughed. It was a cruel sound, almost gloating. “Ah, yes. Landry’s new boss. I’d heard that cop hit the big time, but I didn’t put the two together.”

“You know Landry?”

“He almost learned too much about your home a few years ago, but Gavin took care of it. I should’ve let him shut this place down then.”

“But why? The theater makes money. Why close something that’s doing well for you?”

“I’m not interested in owning a cabaret. Or playing pimp to a gaggle of used-up dancer-whores. Let them move to the District or die on the streets.”

I winced, but at the same time, my emotions were softening. It reminded me of my birthday night, and as Guy continued speaking, my numbness quickly intensified until my lids felt heavy. I stepped away from him and went to one of the velvet armchairs, wondering if I’d even make it to sit before I collapsed. My fingers fumbled for the absinthe spoon, but it was too difficult to find.

“Enough of that. Back to us. I’ll instruct you in what to do,” he said, but his voice was drifting away from me. “It will be painful at first, but don’t fight me. If you fight me, I’ll be sure it hurts.”

It was a challenge, I could tell. He wanted me to fight. He wanted to hurt me, but I no longer cared. My emotions were gone as his hands struggled with the tight button on my dressing gown. He spread the heavy velvet apart, and his nails scratched the skin of my thighs as he gathered the thin chemise up my legs. I was exposed, and he drew back to survey my body with glittering green eyes. I knew what was coming, but I simply closed my eyes and slipped away…

Comfort, clean fresh air, bright whiteness. Strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and a deep sense of safety. Surfacing through the mist, I was greeted by so many pleasant sensations, I thought I must’ve died and was waking up in heaven. But as I continued to regain consciousness, I realized there were actual arms around me.

I opened my eyes, and I was in a bright room with large windows. I was lying in a bed with another person behind me, holding me close against him. One breath and I knew who it was. I pulled forward and into a sitting position as his blue eyes blinked open. He smiled and warmth filled my middle. I was with Beau.

“What happened?” I asked, looking around. “How did I get here?”

He pulled up beside me and kissed the top of my shoulder. “Roland brought you to me. To keep you safe.”

I struggled to remember, but nothing came. I looked down and Beau’s hands were again bandaged. “You’re injured?” I took one in mine.

He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Just some broken glass.”

I looked at him for a second and then slid out of the bed, walking toward the large windows opposite us. I looked down at myself. I was wearing only my thin, cotton chemise, but one of Beau’s shirts hung on a chair nearby. I grabbed it and slipped it over me.

“I don’t remember anything.” My head was still groggy, and I was tired. Then a chill gripped me.

“Did he… did I—”

“Roland said it appeared he got there before anything happened.”

I hugged my body in relief, and when I turned, I saw Beau still lying on his side
gazing at
me. He smiled, and I felt self-conscious. I pushed my hair behind my ear and looked down.

“How long have I been here?”

“A few hours.”

I glanced around the sparsely furnished apartment. “Where are my clothes?”

“You only had the gown. It’s there.”

I followed his point and saw my velvet dressing gown draped over another wooden chair.

“Is there a bathroom?” The apartment was one large room with a nice wall of windows looking out over the river, but there was nothing else. No closet, no kitchen. Just the single space.

“It’s down the hall. We all share. But I can escort you. Stand guard.” He slid to the edge of the bed and swung his legs off to stand. He was only wearing light trousers, and I looked away quickly from his slim, muscular body.

“I can wait. Teeny might need me anyway.”

I stepped toward my robe, but Beau caught me and pulled me to him. “Roland said to tell you she’s safe, not to worry. And he said for you to stay here with me until he comes to fetch you.”

I
watched
his
lips, thinking how nice it was not to remember. How nice it would be to pretend I really was safe for a little while. I breathed deeply fighting the urges humming under my skin. The desire to give in and embrace him back, to stay here and act like there was nothing else but us.

“It’s probably not the best idea,” I said.

He smiled. “You were just fine with it a few minutes ago.”

“I was unconscious.”

“I won’t tell anyone you woke up.”

His hands gently slid to my waist, but I looked away, imagining what he would say next, what I hoped he would say next.

“Has it started for you? Is that what was happening? Are they trying to make you be like Evie?”

“No. It’s not that. It was something different.”

“Who was that man?”

I
held
his eyes for a moment before answering. “Gavin’s brother.”

“I guessed as much. But why was he in your room? Why did Roland want me to tell you nothing had happened if he wasn’t trying to—”