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“Ali, are you okay?” I whisper.

“Yeah,” she groans, but she doesn’t sound like herself.

“Shall I call Ria? Get her to come over? I’m worried about you.”

“No, I’m just sick.”

“Shall I call a doctor?”

“No, just, just lay with me,” she asks and my heart sinks. She’s hurting. I glance over to the nightstand and see the familiar orange pot of sleeping tablets she takes when her nightmares get too much and her past keeps her awake at night. A knot of worry forms in my belly, and I don’t want to leave. Ali only takes them when her nightmares are bad.

I climb in bed beside her, not caring I’m still in my itchy skirt and blouse. I wrap my arm around her waist. She feels frail, tiny, and alarm bells start ringing. I need to keep an eye on her. I decide I’ll give her a couple more days to work through what she’s dealing with, and then I’m calling Ria, and we’ll try and get through to her. Sometimes we need to work through things alone and sometimes when we’ve fallen too far, we need people to help lift us and carry us when we don’t have the strength anymore.

That thought makes me think of Brad. I wonder how he’s doing. If he misses me as much as I miss him. Does he spend his days buried in work to pass the time like I do? Does he wish we could get a second chance, a redo? Does he have regrets like I do, because, while I was asking him to help get me to a place where I could find someone who made me feel wanted, loved, secure and desired, I didn’t notice that I had already found that in him, and now I fear it’s too late and I’ve ruined everything.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Gabriella

“What do you mean, you quit?” Chloe, the stage manager, barks. “You are one of our main girls, Gabriella, and you’ve left us high and dry recently.”

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry. I just have some personal stuff going on, and I can’t commit anymore. I’m here to hand back my things and clear out my locker.”

“Could you at least work tonight as your final shift. Luna is out as she’s on vacation, and I need another dancer.”

I want to say no, should say no, but I find myself agreeing, and maybe it’s the closure I need. A farewell to the part of my life that’s now died. Something that brought me so much joy has now flipped my world upside down and been used against me.

“Sure, I’ll work tonight.”

My final shift was bittersweet. I’ll miss the feeling of being on stage gave me, the bright lights and the way my adrenaline spiked and pumped round my body. How free I felt. The only other thing that has given me that feeling is Brad, and now I’ve lost him too. Thinking about him makes my skin feel too tight for my body, and makes it hard to breathe. I hang up my leotard and mask for a final time and wave goodbye to the girls before I head out to the parking lot, heaviness weighing on my chest as I walk away from one of the places that helped me find a part of myself that I spent years trying to suppress.

I am just a step away from my car when a large hooded figure steps in front of me, startling me. On instinct, I grip the strap of my tote tightly, and try to stand tall, fearing he wants my purse.

“You were great tonight,” he drawls, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I can see why they like you.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Why do I feel like I’ve heard this voice before?

I don’t say anything as I try to step around him, but he steps in front of me. My internal alarm bells start going off. We get the odd guy hanging around outside, but usually security is out here moving them on. I glance over my shoulder, but I can’t see anyone. I step backward and he turns his face just enough for me to notice he has a tattoo of a scorpion below his left eye and it unnerves me.

He leans in closer, his body mere inches from mine, and I swallow down the scream I want to let out.

“You’re prettier than I thought.” There’s a slight slur to his voice that tells me he’s intoxicated, and this may give me the upper hand here if he were to try anything, as he may be unsteady on his feet.

“I need you to get out of my way, please,” I say as confidently as I can.

He chuckles, but it’s deep, calculated, and makes me uneasy.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll be seeing you around.” He steps aside and I listen to his boots crunch against the gravel and when I think he’s far enough away I quick step to my car, jumping inside and locking the doors.

My trembling hands turn on the car, and my heart sinks when the warning symbol for a flat tire flashes on my dashboard. Panic floods me, and my whole body trembles. I fish out my phone and dial the only number I know I can. The one person who knows my secret and, even though we aren’t talking, I pray he answers.

It only takes two rings for him to answer, and as soon as his rough voice sounds down the phone, I choke out a sob. “Brad, I—”

‘Where are you?”

“Diamonds. Can you come and get me?”

Without hesitation, he says, “I’m on my way.”

Brad arrives in record time. He took one look at my car and told me two of my tires had been slashed. He barely said another word to me, just called a pick-up service who took my car to a local garage.