And now he thinks he’s caught me in a secret, in a lie.
He thinks that by uncovering it, I’m somehow trapped to him now. The funny thing is, I’ve always felt tethered to the silver-eyed devil. An invisible string has consistently pulled me to him, and with each skillful tug, he brings me closer to the shadows. Inch by inch, I feel the cord around my heart tighten, and if he doesn’t let go soon, we’ll both succumb to its seductive coercion.
All that remains for me to do is give him the fight he craves. With anyone else, I would’ve waved the white flag and retreated to my lonely corner, too afraid of the monsters that lurk behind bright smiles and gentle remarks.
But not with Easton.
Never with Easton.
With him, I know exactly the kind of evil I’m dealing with. Just as I can’t hide the demons that haunt me, neither can Easton conceal his. And besides, he likes my claws way too much for me to hold back now. He might have changed the rules in our game, but I learned a long time ago that you need to adapt if you want to survive.
Adapt or die.
Isn’t that how the saying goes?
So I’ll do just that. I’ll adapt to this new dynamic he’s created for us and give him the battle he so yearns for. I’ll just have to rely on the only weapon I have at my disposal to do the job right.
I knew Easton wouldn’t pass up the opportunity tonight to torment me further. And what better way to guarantee my uneasiness than to come to The Brass Guild and watch me perform? Just like the last time he showed up, I asked Ruby to seat him in the same corner booth and notify me the minute he arrived. I wanted to know exactly where he was while I was on stage.
It’s not always possible to have a clear view of the audience with the bright lights on my face, so asking Ruby to do me this favor was my best alternative. Thankfully, she kept her million questions about my request to herself, but I saw the worry in her eyes. However, her parting advice before I went on stage earlier wasn’t as subtle.
“You have a good thing going here, Angel. Don’t ruin it because of a brooding, dark-haired boy with light eyes. Those types of men are always more trouble than they’re worth.”
Trouble.
If only she knew that Easton Price is so much more than that one menacing title. He is sinful danger personified. And like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to its allurement. It calls to me on a visceral, primal level, which no one—aside from him—could ever fathom such need existing inside of me. It whispers in my ear truths that only he and I share.
I’m damaged goods, too.
Your ugliness looks just fine, paired with mine.
I’m not here to fix you.
I’m here to break every last jagged piece until it fits with my own shards of glass.
So Easton can taunt me with his unnerving presence all he wants because I am ready to do the same. Tonight, I’ve decided that I won’t bend or yield. I won’t cower or hide anymore. He wants my fire then, I’ll submit to his wish willingly.
Tonight, I’ll take the lead in this dance with the devil.
Tonight, he’ll be the one to burn.
My heartbeat accelerates as I end what was supposed to be the last song of this evening’s set. The light coat of sweat on my forehead testifies to my anticipation, my stomach twisting in on itself with endless nerves. Still, I fight through it. I’ve rehearsed this song all day just for him. I know it by heart. I’m ready. A sudden rush runs down my spine, knowing I’m the one who will toy with him this time.
As the white spotlight softens to an enticing gold, the shadow behind me is purposely set to enhance my skin-colored halter top dress, making it look as if I’m bare to the world, even under such heavily sequined fabric. Once my dancers are in their required spots, ready for this last song, I just barely tilt my chin for the backstage coordinator to start the music.
I bow my head and grasp the mic in front of me, ready to wage war.
The sultry intro leaves my lips, calling out the devil by name. I hum how clever he believes himself to be and open my eyes in Easton’s direction, throwing my own version of his slanted grin back to him. I watch him shift in his seat, uncomfortable with my candid, taunting leer. Tonight, he’s the one who won’t be able to hide away from me. I have him in my scope, to lure and antagonize with just the right pitch of my voice.
His gaze is transfixed on me as I begin to sing the chorus, while the backup dancers start to tug at my dress, their hands running up and down my body as the song plays along. But I don’t feel their touch. All I feel is the heat of Easton’s eyes scorching my already feverish skin while his tongue traces his bottom lip, his attention focused solely on me.
The softness of the spotlight allows me to see the crowd sitting at my feet, yet all I have eyes for is him. I watch as the dark prince begins to lose his sanity with each word I sing out to him. There is a certain thrill in witnessing my tormentor silently suffering, and I can’t recall seeing anything so beautiful.
Such a pretty sight to behold.
He pulls back his slick, black hair with one trembling hand while the other holds on to his shaking knee, forcing it to keep still. I keep to my tempo, my voice becoming a deep, ragged thing as my core begins to clench with need.
After last weekend’s confrontation, I wanted to provoke him, knowing this song would do just that. Yet here I am, standing on unsteady legs, breathless with all the wicked promises his metallic gray eyes fling at me. His dark, corrupting vows are launched my way with every melodic lyric that leaves my mouth.
I should close my eyes to protect myself from his invasive stare, but for the life of me, I can’t find the will to look away. As he bites his lower lip, I feel his teeth pierce into my flesh. When he pulls on the ends of his hair, I feel his vise grip of dominance pulling back my own. I watch him continuously squeeze his knee and feel the force of it on my neck. I watch in awe as he takes in a sharp breath, stealing the oxygen away from my lungs.
I wanted to see Easton Price squirm in his seat, but without even trying, he turned the tables on me. As I belt out the last verse, the message in his eyes is clear. It speaks a truth I should have remembered before trying to play the devil’s game.
I suffer, you suffer.
Your agony is my agony, too.
We’re two sides of the same coin.
Don’t forget that.
As the last note ends, the small crowd stands in applause, and I do my best to keep it together without letting them know this little show wasn’t for any of them. My rebellion was just for him, and it bit me in the ass.
When I get backstage, I’m congratulated for tonight’s performance again, but all I want is to run to my dressing room for some much-needed solitude. What I first thought would be a slap in the face to the dark prince ended up being some kind of foreplay between us. I felt his hungry eyes on my skin, felt every menacing smirk burn its way to me on stage. Even without touching me, he managed to slip inside of me and create mayhem.
I close the dressing room door and lean against it for a minute to get my breathing in check, but as hard as I try, the sexual energy is still electrifying my senses. I sit in the chair in front of the vanity and pick up a wet wipe to begin my ritual of wiping my makeup off, when suddenly my door bursts open. My eyes land on the reflection of Easton’s infuriated gray pools in the mirror. He slams the door behind him and walks closer to me, the reflection of his eyes in the mirror never leaving mine.