Page 57 of Kept

That gets a smile out of me.

“Oooh okay, Robert is about to come on.” Sarah gives an excited little clap of her hands.

“Okay,” I say a few minutes later. “Five stars for Robert because that whole scene looks exhausting, but who thought it was a good idea to give that boy a weapon as a birthday present?”

I caught Sarah mid sip, and she turns bright red while she tries to laugh and swallow at the same time. “That would be the queen. A little door prize to soften the blow of being told he has to get married now.”

“Ahh, the arranged marriage.” I refill her glass.

“Not just for the mafia. In his case, more of a ‘we don’t care who, but make it snappy’. So, naturally to soothe his sadness over the whole thing, they decide to go swan hunting tonight.”

“And he becomes the luckiest bastard on the planet because he doesn’t shoot the love of his life right there?” I take another sip of my own drink.

She gives a little cheers with her glass. “So it would seem, and then because of magic, they fall in love with each other, and the deal is if he stays true to her, their love breaks the spell. Presto! Everyone’s happy.”

“Where’s our villain? We haven’t heard from him for a bit.”

“Ask and you shall receive. At this point, I think he’s just bitter and vindictive. He does some voodoo magic and makes his daughter look just like the princess.”

“This is the part Bella usually does?” I ask.

“Yep. But since I’m “at a funeral” she’s able to fill in for me, which is why our company prefers to have two dancers instead of just using the same girl.”

We sit, watching the dancers’ colorful costumes swirl on stage. Sarah sits mesmerized, her eyes tracking their every move. I can tell when a particularly difficult sequence is coming up because of her look of anticipation and little silent cheer when they succeed.

Looking at her now, it’s easy to see she will be a fantastic teacher.

“There’s going to be a little break, I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

I start to stand, and she just laughs.

“Sit, I can take myself.” She kisses my cheek. When she steps out of the box, I make eye contact with the man in the hall, expecting him to keep an eye on her.

Fifteen minutes later, I know something has gone terribly wrong when I find him knocking on the door to the women’s restroom and calling her name.

CHAPTER 29

Sarah

I’m on cloud nine when I step into the hallway. The women’s room is just down the hall from our box, but I realize I’ve picked up a shadow.

“It’s okay, I don’t need an escort.” I tell the man who was standing watch in the hallway.

He shakes his head. “Boss’s orders.”

Well, okay then. I manage to convince him to stand outside after seeing that the ladies’ room is empty. Having one of the guys in the bathroom while I pee would be just mortifying. What’s he supposed to do? Stand outside the stall and twiddle his thumbs?

I take care of business and check to make sure my hair and mask are still in place. Like many theaters, the bathrooms have two entrances. In this case, there is the one I used right by the box seats, but also a front entrance by the elevators that come up from the lobby. Either because I’m distracted by the overall events from the evening, the full Cinderella experience while I comment on my favorite ballet ever to the head of the fucking mafia, who is actually listening to what I have to say, or because the champagne was really good and I’m halfway through my third glass, I mix up my entrance and end up taking the long walk back to the box.

I’m just about to round the corner when a door opens behind me. Given that this whole floor is box seats just like ours, it’s normal for people to be in and out all night long.

Which is why nothing seems amiss until I feel my body jerked back by my hair. I’m slammed against the wall, and the impact knocks the wind out of me, and my head hits the wall with a nauseating thud. My attacker holds me with one hand on my throat and the other clamped over my mouth. He leans his torso against my body, trapping me against the wall.

David LeBlanc glares at me, his beady eyes and ridiculous comb-over inches from my face.

“Why hello, Sarah,” he coos with the stink of cheap scotch on his breath. “I was wondering why you weren’t on stage tonight. I suppose being De Luca’s newest whore is time consuming.”

I can see the scab from when I launched the drink at him. It’s fitting, an ugly scar to match the rest of him. I see movement out of the corner of my eye.

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