Page 9 of Beyond Hate (Beyond #3)

London

I hadn’t seen Otto since he’d taken me from the facility, clinging to him in terror with the sound of bullets and screaming echoing through the hallways.

He’d looked so determined, so… protective. So furious.

He’d looked at me like… fuck… like he wanted to kill me.

Like he wanted to keep me, but he didn’t know how to do it if I wasn’t in pieces he could hold.

I wasn’t sure. And I didn’t know why he’d let me go. I didn’t understand anything that had happened to me over the past few weeks.

And I didn’t know how I’d somehow fallen into the exact same life I’d left when he’d taken me, like my entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down—like men hadn’t been tortured in front of me, like the person who’d done it hadn’t come into the room every night and wrapped his arms around me.

Like I hadn’t let him.

Like I hadn’t wanted… for some fucked up reason… wanted him to… almost asked him to…

“Fuck, London. Are you even paying attention?” My eyes snapped up to Hudson. Hudson, who’d spent two hours telling me how worthless I was when I’d come back to the apartment. I’d only come to get my car keys, maybe some money that I’d put away, but somehow…

Somehow, I’d ended up staying. I didn’t know if Hudson realized I was only here because I didn’t know where else to go… because he’d found the little stash of tips I’d been saving up and he’d spent it all on fuck knows what while I was gone.

I didn’t want to be here, but in the end… I didn’t have anywhere else to go, just like before.

And Hudson had assumed I’d “finished throwing my fit” and now I was back for good.

“Sorry.” I brushed my fingers through my hair, still not used to the lighter color of the strands. I’d bleached it when I got back, like changing the color could somehow change what had happened to me.

I’d thought about going to the cops… but what would I tell them?

There was a facility that was bringing dead people back to life and putting them into new bodies?

It was currently full of psychopaths who were killing everyone inside.

Oh, and there was also a fire and an explosion, and I was pretty sure it was all burned to the ground.

That was a great way for me to get arrested. It sounded so beyond the realm of possibility that I knew they wouldn’t believe me.

The police wouldn’t believe me, and Hudson didn’t believe me.

I wasn’t even sure if I believed me anymore.

Maybe I’d just had some kind of fit for a few weeks…

It was easier to think I’d imagined it all than to believe in things like past lives and paying for the sins of a person I couldn’t remember.

Which was why I fell back into routine. Til put me on the schedule like I hadn’t been gone at all, and I opened a bank account to hide my tips. I picked up extra shifts so I could avoid Hudson while I tried to hammer home the fact that we weren’t together anymore. He didn’t listen.

Speaking of him not listening…

“Don’t be sorry, London. Just do better.”

Just do better.

Fuck, how many times had I heard that in my life? From my foster family, from exes.

“Sure, Hudson. Sorry.” I snagged my bag as he grabbed for me, and thankfully I managed to dance out of the way before his fingers made contact with my arm. “Working late tonight.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that made my stomach churn. I didn’t want to be here.

I didn’t want him to touch me.

I didn’t want…

God, I wasn’t sure what I wanted, because there was a small part of me that couldn’t erase the memory of another person pressing their lips to my skin, their fingers rough and painful, their voice full of threats that sparked and warred with my sanity.

Trauma… It was nothing but trauma. Stockholm Syndrome or some shit like that. He’d been nice to me, and I’d been so afraid I was going to die.

It was no surprise my body made me think I liked what he was doing.

And I…

“I’ll see you later.” I pushed back from Hudson as his hand trailed to my waist, trying to pull me closer. I saw the flare of irritation in his gaze, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get away with this for much longer.

It had been over a month since Otto had turned me loose… a month of me playing pretend that life was normal, that nothing had happened .

I didn’t think Hudson was going to let me get away with it for much longer. Fuck, I wasn’t sure I could keep it up for much longer, if I was being honest.

I just wanted…

Whatever thought tried to make its way to the surface, I shoved it down as hard as I could and pulled out my keys. I didn’t want to be late for work.

I was lucky that Til took me back without question—he was an older man, though still good looking. I liked working there because he made sure the environment was safe, and because he treated his dancers like what we were doing was art, not just using our bodies for money.

It was strange that some man I barely knew could make me feel valid and seen, could make me feel like the choices I made weren’t going to ruin my life.

It helped that Til’s was also an openly queer bar. The dancers weren’t hired based on gender, and the crowd was a complete mix. I didn’t care whose eyes I had on me—their money and admiration were all the same.

Being bisexual was useful when you needed to convince the people you danced for that you were into all of them watching you.

“How you doing, London?” The deep rumble of Til’s voice was the first thing that met me when I slid into the employee entrance.

His dark eyes checked me over, and I let out a soft sigh of relief—if nothing else, I was safe here.

There’d been a few times where I thought about asking him if I could just stay at the club…

but the last thing I needed was Til thinking I was a burden.

The last thing I wanted was for him to look at me like he didn’t respect me.

So instead I smiled as I slung my jacket off and opened my locker—luckily he hadn’t cleared it out while I was gone, so all of my clothes had been neatly waiting for me when I came back

“Doing all right. Just a little jittery.” I pulled out a shimmery top and held it up. When Til wrinkled his nose, I put it back and took out a lacy set of lingerie instead. He nodded. “I just want to work out some of this energy.”

He nodded again, giving my shoulder a gentle pat. “I’m sure you’ll feel better once you get out there.”

Til’s smile was warm as he turned and left me to get dressed, and I waited until he was gone before I leaned my shoulders against the other locker and blew out a breath.

I would have felt better before—being here, dancing, losing myself to the rhythm and the music had always brought me a sense of peace even when my world was falling apart—but now everything felt off center, like I was slightly misaligned.

I’d seen a completely different world and then I’d been thrown back into this one, and it felt like I’d never figured out how to get back on my feet. It felt like I’d accidentally left some part of myself in that building, and it was burned to the ground.

Or like he took it.

Like Otto was…

“No.” I blew out a breath and forced my eyes up to the mirror in front of me. I needed to get myself together so I could focus on the crowd, on something that made me feel good.

I needed to figure out how to be London again, to forget that some part of me had broken while I’d been gone.

My fingers were shaking when I picked up my eyeliner, and I had to blow out a slow breath so my hands could steady while I drew careful lines. A streak of pink eyeshadow and some highlighter, and when I looked back up, I almost felt like I’d pulled on armor.

This London was confident.

This London wasn’t confused.

This London hadn’t lay in the arms of a fucking psychopath and steadied himself to the beat of his heart like it was a lullaby I’d forgotten from childhood.

I stood, licking my lips and straightening my shoulders. This London knew his body, knew his strength and how much people wanted him…

I could be this London, even if it was just for now, just at night. Just while I was dancing.

For a while, I could lose myself to music and movement, and nothing else needed to matter.

It was a comforting thought when I went onto the stage, when the thrumming, slow beat of my first song came on and my body went loose. I could feel eyes on me, and I lost myself to that sensation as I started to move. I didn’t like attention most of the time, but I loved it when I was dancing.

When I danced, I felt free… and apparently it translated, because there were very few nights that I didn’t get tips, and even less when I didn’t get requests for more dances.

I needed that now more than ever if I was going to get out of my apartment, so I let my vision go hazy and focused on my body, focused on the thrum of music.

And for some reason, as I twisted myself carefully around the pole and the vibrations of the speakers tickled against my skin… I thought of Otto.

I thought of the way his fingers felt tight in my hair… the way his hot breath on my neck made tears prickle in my eyes while he whispered how he was going to hurt me.

The way he’d looked down at me when he picked me up and carried me out of the building while the sound of gunshots and screaming rained down around us.

I thought of Otto, and a low sound ripped from my chest. My body rocked against the pole, not losing its rhythm. By the way people were waving cash at me to lure me across the stage, I’d done the exact opposite of fucking up.

And even though I moved toward them, for some reason, all I could see was his green eyes, all I could feel were dangerous fingers digging into my skin, a hard body pressed against me, and I—

“Fuck,” I murmured as soon as the music ended.

My heart was thundering, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the exertion I’d put into my set or the thoughts that were tearing across my body—memories that felt like they were deeper than they had any right to be when I was still trying to convince myself that they weren’t even real.

Like what Otto had said was true… like I’d known him in another life.

I shook the thought from my mind—it was crazy. Even though I’d seen the man in the cell with me completely shift. His eyes had changed colors. His personality was different… but…

No.

He was crazy. And I had to focus. I pulled on my robe and shuffled off the stage as the next set of music started and Gemini came on behind me. I knew all the dancers by name, and Gem was one of my favorites.

Once I was out of the way, my eyes flicked to Til, who jerked his head to the corner booth of the room—sometimes after we finished a set, a particularly high-paying client would slip him some cash for a private dance.

It was always someone who’d been coming to the club for a long time, always someone Til trusted.

It was someone who had lots of money and thought they were important enough for a little one-on-one time.

We weren’t expected to do anything but get them riled up enough that they might spend a little extra time in their private room after we were finished—Til made sure we were all taken care of, that we were all safe.

And he did his best to make sure we all made extra money wherever we could. I think he knew we were all a little broken.

I was more than sure that if any of us screamed from those back rooms, he’d probably come in himself with the gun I knew he kept behind the counter.

I felt safe.

Or… I should have felt safe as I made my way over to the man. He was a repeat customer. Some lonely guy who never took his wedding ring off and always kept his hands politely on my waist while I danced for him. He’d told me before that watching me made it easy for him to not cheat on his wife.

I wanted to tell him there was more than one way to cheat, but at the end of the day, a cheater’s money spent just the same as an honest person’s… and I needed that money.

“You looked great tonight, London.” He was slow and telegraphed when he raised his hand, and I let him brush his fingertips across my bare arms. It never had before, but that touch burned across my skin like hot iron, and I almost drew back.

I forced a smile instead and leaned in.

“Thanks, Mr. Caulson.” I bit my lower lip, forcing myself not to squirm in discomfort. Something was weird.

Off.

But…

“Did you want a dance?”

Of course he did—that was why I was here. That was why Til sent me over. He nodded and stood, forcing me to take a step back or let him into my personal space.

That heat scalded along my body again, but no one was touching me.

And it was familiar . I’d felt it before, when I’d been chained to the bed in the facility.

When I was certain Otto had been looking at me through the glass.

I nearly stumbled, and it was Mr. Caulson’s careful hands that caught me at the elbow, one going to my hip to steady me… It gave me a second to glance around.

I didn’t need to look—I already knew —but it was impossible to stop myself from seeking him out.

And there was Otto, standing at the back of the building. He was watching me again, but he looked different.

His expression was furious as I led my client to the back rooms for a private dance. I should have stopped—I should have turned around and told Til to call the police.

Instead, I threw him one more look, watching as he shook his head slowly. Just once, back and forth.

A warning.

Probably the only one I would get.

And for some reason… I ignored it.

Fuck.