Page 59 of Frozen Hearts
Glancing toward booth number four, I notice the curtains are already drawn. My feet are cemented to the floor, and I can’t seem to make myself move toward it.
“Well, go on,” Ben barks. “Don’t want to keep him waiting.”
My head whips to face him, and he smirks at the unmistakable dread drenching my features. I won’t find any sympathy from him. “W-who is he?” I ask, voice wavering.
He shrugs. “No idea. Just waltzed in and asked for you.”
“Y-you’re sure it’s me he wants?”
“Do you know of another Aurora Noir I’m not aware of?”
Fuck, if he knew my stage name then it’s definitely not a mistake. I watch my last thread of hope disappear like a balloon into the sky, and when Ben gives me a warning glare, I force my feet forward.
It’s only when I’m standing, shaking like a leaf, outside the gauzy curtains that I realize I never asked what the man wanted. A dance is one thing. Dancing I can do… I think, but anything more…
Blackness rushes in and I fight to push it away.
No!
Would Ben do that? It’s one thing to make a bit of money on the side facilitating private dances and extras with willing girls.That could be perceived as a gray area, but forcing me to do anything sexual—that’s a far greater crime.
It’s just a dance,I tell myself.
God, what if he’s some fat, old man who saw me on stage?
What if hehaspaid for more than just a dance?
I can’t…
The loud music fades,hisdeep, demanding baritone replacing it.
Such a good girl.
Cold sweat breaks out along my skin, bile burning a rancid path up the back of my throat.
“I won’t bite… unless you want me to.”
A rich voice, smooth like dark chocolate, brushes against my skin, chasinghisaway, and I blink back into the dark, sultry atmosphere of the club.
Swallowing, I slowly count to three before pulling the gossamer curtain aside. Ignoring my still trembling hands, I tuck Riley away before stepping into the secluded booth, replacing her with Aurora Noir. Simply the reminder of my daughter's name reminds me why I’m here. Why I’m doing this. Whatever is required of me, I will persevere—for her. To win her back. To provide for her. To be the mom I never had.
Lifting my chin, I portray a confidence I don’t feel as I slip into Aurora Noir—a mysterious, unattainable sexual symbol.
One which men can look at yet cannot touch.
The persona only lasts until my eyes fall on the man’s wild, dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and ice-blue eyes before my walls crumble.
“You.” The word falls from my lips before I can stop it.
What ishedoing here?
Ruthless.
The last time I saw him, he saved me from some handsy asshole and I told him to go fuck himself. And all that after I told him I’d rather eat horse shit than taste his cum. Admittedly, neither were my finest moments, but I felt it was sufficient to get the point across that I wasn’t interested.
Clearly, I was wrong. Not only did he not believe me then, but the fact he’s here surely means he’s decided to move the ball to his court.
Except, the ball was never inmycourt. There is no fucking court. We’re not even playing the same sport.
