𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝟏𝟖+

15. blood

POPPY ELLISON

✥

I never truly intended to sign up to the auditions for Dark Suite but after speaking with Zane about what it actually entails, I've been leaning towards the thought for the past hour.

When I told Gabriel I used to dance I wasn't lying. It was my escape. I miss that part of my life. Losing yourself to the music, to movement. No words need to be spoken, only your body can describe how you feel.

To say I loved it would be an understatement. I was infatuated with it.

My life before serving Rexx wasn't anything crazy. Boring mostly. That's why I danced because it gave me freedom, it made me creative. I lost my mind for minutes on end and let my expressive side take over.

I'll never forget the feeling of performing.

So now I've been thinking of actually auditioning. I might be rusty–I'll definitely be rusty. But I've danced the majority of my life, I should be able to pick it up easily enough if I focus.

"We're heading out today," Rexx's loud voice makes me jump. I turn around to face him, coffee in hand. His brows are pinched together and he doesn't look like he's in a good mood, so I don't press. "We need you with us."

"Okay," I say quietly.

He studies me with those lethal eyes and I squirm under his gaze. It's like he's waiting for me to say something so I open my mouth. "So-so I was thinking," I mumble, clutching my hands around the mug tighter. Rexx raises a brow, waiting for me to continue. "There was a flyer at Dark Suite, auditioning for dancers at the club. I thought maybe I could try out, get a job there. It would help massively with what you're asking of me."

My lashes brush my face as I attempt to calm my breathing. Rexx stops at the counter and stares until he bursts out laughing and I flinch. The sound bounces off the walls but it's not kind laughter, it's vicious laughter.

Rexx raises his hand and wipes his eyes, pretending to flick away tears. "You... dancing?" He repeats and then exhales a laugh that sounds like a donkey.

I feel my fingers twitch around my mug as I watch him. "Yeah," I speak quietly.

"Oh my God," he breathes out sharply. "That is comical. You a dancer? No one would even pay to see you dance."

My ankles wobble and every insecurity I've ever felt comes crashing down on me. It's not like I should even listen to Rexx's opinion but when you've lived with him for two years, it's hard to ignore his comments.

He'll call me beautiful and then insult me the next. He's a narcissist.

When his eyes settle on me once more when he recovers. "Are you seriously going to go for it?"

I feel like hiding in my bed for the rest of the day. "It was just an idea," I whisper under my breath.

A stupid, stupid fucking idea.

Who am I kidding? The second someone sees my body, they'll be grimacing from all the damage. That's why when I spend the night with a man, I try to keep my clothes on or the lights off so that they don't see all the scars and the nasty marks I've been left.

Some see and don't say a single thing. They don't care, they want a quick fuck.

Deep down, I know no one is going to want to see my body whilst I dance.

No one is going to want my body, ever.

Sanger and Tristain enter the kitchen a few moments later. Sanger's wounds are healing a lot quicker than I anticipated but his fingers are all still bandaged up and I feel sorry for him because when your hands are out of action, there is practically nothing you can do.