Condemned (Beauty And The Billionaire Geek Book 2) (9 page)

“Is she better?”

“She’s actually doing really well. Every time I talk to her, she seems lucid. It’s like she’s almost herself again. I know the medication makes her tired, but it seems to be working. Her psychiatrist really inspired her to get better. It’s good. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me.”

“Is she dating her psychiatrist?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Regan seems to think so. He could lose his license if anyone found out about it. I feel kind of bad for her, but he did help her. I don’t know if she would have done so well with her treatment if he hadn’t been there.”

“Well. I hope it works out. For her sake.”

“How are you? I haven’t heard from you. How is school going and the job hunt?”

“School is good. I’ve found a hip-hop dance troop and a job at a restaurant near my apartment,” I lied.

“Wow, you are doing really well. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks. How is Rose? I bet she’s getting huge.”

“She cut a new set of teeth. Damien is getting up close and personal with sleepless nights.” She chuckled. Her boyfriend Damien was a good guy, but not her one-and-a-half year old daughter Rose’s father. “Everything is going great besides that. The dress store is booming, and the tattoo shop is too.”

“I’m so happy for you Claire.”

“I should probably go, Rose is terrorizing the dog.”

I hung up and immediately felt horrible. I couldn’t tell Claire the truth about what I’d been doing. It wasn’t that I thought Claire would judge me, but Claire would try to take care of me. I wanted to take care of myself.

Over the next week, I practiced with Bea and the troop every day. I’d become a full member and even contributed to the rent on the studio in Pioneer Square. It wasn’t a big deal for me because I was starting to make about ten grand a month modeling for Marcus. I’d been contacted by an agent, who was setting me up with other photographers.

The night of our Halloween gig we got ready for our show in the back room of a small club Downtown. I hadn’t performed for an audience since high school. I knew I was ready but that didn’t keep me from feeling totally nervous.

I put on my steam punk outfit with a tight corset, high heeled granny boots, and a frilly mini-dress that showed my garter belt and the top of my stockings. We had our faces painted like Day of the Dead skulls for Halloween.

I had my hair in ringlets that tumbled from a flouncy bun on top of my head. It had so much hair spray and so many pins in it, it was amazing that it still moved at all.

I watched from back stage as the first two acts preformed. The comedian was our MC. She was an overweight lady who was so funny she made everyone laugh until they cried. While she cracked everyone up, I peeked from behind the curtain into the audience.

The lights of the stage obscured the crowd, but I could see the vague outline of Stacy and Billy sitting near the front row. I smiled, knowing they had come to support me.

After the comedian finished, the magician went on and amazed everyone with her sleight of hand. She did some card tricks that made me wonder if maybe she did have magic. I couldn’t figure out how she did it.

There was as short break before it was time for us to go on stage. I took a deep breath and squeezed Bea’s hand as the other girls and I crowded around the stage entrance. The lights went out and we trotted into position.

A bead of sweat dripped down my brow, and I hoped it wouldn’t streak my makeup. I took a deep breath, while my heart thumped in my chest. Rob Zombie’s “Living Dead Girl” came on and the lights went up.

In perfect sync, the five of us pivoted our hips toward the audience. Three of us moved back while the other two went forward. The two dancers in the front spun around and dove between the legs of the two girls at my sides. I stepped to the front and the rest of the girls followed my lead as I flowed through the provocative hip-hop movements.

They surrounded me and I stepped on Bea’s knee to heft myself on the shoulders of our strongest girl. She held my arms from below when I jumped down to be caught by the girls underneath. We went back into a stomping rhythm, trading places between the front and back rows.

With a swivel and turn, we pulled off our skirts and revealed the g-strings below. Two girls grabbed my arms while I flipped over backward, scissoring my legs and landing on my heeled boots.

We danced into a line and, in sync, pulled off our corsets, flinging them off stage. All that was left over our pasties was the cropped shirt, held together with a small piece of Velcro. We formed a circle, linking arms and reached over to pull the Velcro off the girl next to us. We twirled around and pulled the shirt off, ending the dance, aggressively tossing our shirts away.

The lights came down and the crowd roared in approval. I ran off the stage panting, feeling brilliantly happy. I didn’t care that I was part of a burlesque group. I loved to dance, and we were real dancers.

We ran to the dressing room. I got dressed while the local band set up on the stage. After, I met Billy and Stacy in the crowd. I slipped into a chair next to Billy, and he grabbed my hand and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

The band started a few minutes later. It was a soft, slow song that made me feel melancholy and kind of sad. I felt so emotional I almost wanted to cry. I must have been really excited about dancing again.

After the show, we walked out onto the street to the parking lot. It was cold and we were bundled up in coats.

“Are you coming with me, Zoe?” Stacy asked, opening the door to her pickup.

“Come home with me, Zoe,” Billy breathed in my ear.

“I’m going with Billy.”

“Alright. See you later, Zoe. Awesome performance!”

Billy led me to his scooter. It was getting too cold to ride around on a scooter all the time, but it was all he had. I pressed my legs against his hips while he drove across town. The spicy smell of his skin filled my nose as I held him tight to me. I’d become used to the feeling of needing him, and I was almost comfortable with it now.

He took me back to his place and laid me down on his bed to make sweet love to me. It was slow and passionate. We breathed in each other, body and soul. His kisses left a trail of fire down my skin as his body moved into me with waves of pleasure.

When we were done, we held each other under the blankets. He kissed my forehead and caressed my cheek.

“I’m going to be really busy for the next few weeks, Zoe. I’ve got to finish the beta version of my website and prepare for my thesis presentation. I might be less than attentive.”

“I know how you get,” I said nuzzling his chest. I didn’t care. I’d come to trust him. I’d accepted our relationship and wanted to take it to the next level. For me, that meant not fighting my feelings.

“That’s one of the reasons I love you so much,” he said into my ear. I went rigid and pulled away, looking into his eyes in the dim glow of his computer screen.

“What?” he asked.

“You just dropped the L word.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. I guess not. I… I love you too.”

He squeezed me tight and we fell asleep together. I finally felt free to love him. I finally felt I had control of my own life enough to let him in.

Over the next few weeks, Billy and I only saw each other every few days. We still texted every day and talked on the phone, but it was hard to get a hold of him. He was deep in work with Daniel on the website.

Most of the time when we talked, he rattled on about things I didn’t understand. I think he was too distracted to realize he was doing it. I don’t think he even realized I was going away for Thanksgiving. I didn’t mind that much. I understood he was doing something really important to him.

School was boring as hell, but I kept at it. Dancing with the troop kept me sane. Photo shoots with Marcus, and the steady stream of other photographers, kept my pockets overflowing.

I went furniture and clothes shopping with Stacy. We outfitted our apartment with a new TV and entertainment center. We bought a brand new couch and love seat. I got a new mattress for my bed. I’d had mine since I was ten.

Everything was going really well until one day when I was standing in the school bathroom looking at the tampon dispenser. I did a mental count from the last time I’d had my period. No matter how many times I ran the numbers in my head, it came out the same. I was late. Over a week late. I hadn’t thought about it. It usually came like clockwork.

I left the restroom and paced around campus until I wound up at the bus stop. My bus pulled up in front of me and I boarded, barely looking at where I was going. I bit my fingernail and sat in the back near the window. Billy and I had had unprotected sex three weeks ago. This was bad.

I sent him a text.

I’m worried. Need to talk.

He didn’t text back. I remembered he had his thesis presentation today.
Shit.
He’d be totally involved until this evening. I’d have to deal with this alone.

The bus dropped me off in front of my apartment, but I went to the drug store across the street instead. Walking down the aisle with baby diapers and condoms, I found what I needed. I stared at it, feeling the blood rush into my face. I felt too hot for the heavy sweater and pea coat I wore.

I picked up the package, mortified. I glanced down at the condoms and felt a tear roll down my cheek. I wiped it away and walked to the counter with my heart pounding in my temples. The girl at the counter looked up at me from under her thick eyelashes, giving me a worried, judgmental look. She scanned the package and put it in a bag. After I paid, I ran out of the drug store.

I hurried into the street, my mind blank with panic. Everything looked and felt gray. I heard the sound of shrieking breaks and the sound of the driver from an oncoming SUV screaming at me. I put my hand to my numb, sweaty forehead and spun around to cross the street without responding.

I ran up to my apartment and locked myself in the bathroom even though no one was home. I set the package on the counter and sat on the toilet seat, staring at the test. Minutes past as my heart thumped in my ears. I grabbed the package and tore it open, reading the instructions five times.

I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to know. I thought about flinging it out the window like I’d never bought it. I’d just ignore it and it would go away. Right?

I wasn’t that stupid. I knew I had to deal with it. I thought about texting Stacy, but I didn’t want to tell her. I couldn’t imagine Stacy getting in this kind of trouble. She’d been on the pill since sophomore year of high school. I didn’t have health insurance back then so there was no way I could afford that kind of thing. Crap. I still needed to get health insurance.

I sat there, holding the stick and breathing so heavily I could have hyperventilated. Finally, I pulled down my panties, sat on the pot, and peed on the stick. I covered the cap and put myself together. Pacing the room while I waited, three minutes felt like an eternity. I didn’t want to look so I opened the door and went out into the living room. I couldn’t get far enough away from that thing.

I sat against the front door in the hallway and waited. I waited for a long time with my head in my hands. I took a deep breath, gaining the courage to go look. I had to deal with this, I wasn’t a weak person.

I strode into the bathroom and stared down at the stick. Two little pink lines stared back at me. I picked it up clinically and compared it with the diagram on the instructions. The results were obviously clear. I set it down and looked blankly at the wall. Slowly my mind thawed from the deep freeze that had gripped it as soon as I saw the lines.

Not good.

I took everything from the package and brought it to my bedroom, dumping it all in the garbage. I texted Billy again. This time in all caps.

I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU!

There was still no response. Why did he have to be so damn busy when I needed him most? He had his presentation in a few days, and I was scheduled to visit my sister for Thanksgiving. I needed to talk to him soon, my plane left tomorrow.

I waited all day for him to call back. I felt like I was always waiting for him. After Stacy got home, I told her I felt sick and locked myself in my bedroom. I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t want anyone to know. I’d gotten myself into this trouble, and I had to get myself out of it.

Stacy drove me to the airport in the morning. I felt so depressed and scared, she must have noticed.

“What’s wrong,” she said, as we lumbered down the highway in her pickup truck.

“Nothing. I’m just sick.”

“Are you sure you’re okay to travel right now? Maybe you should stay home.”

“No. I want to see Claire. Regan got out of the hospital and apparently she’s doing really well. I haven’t seen her acting lucid in three years.”

Stacy dropped me off at my terminal, and I wheeled my bag through the crowded, noisy international airport. The energy of the holiday travelers bustling around me made me want to cry. Finally, I figured out how to get my boarding pass from the stupid machine and made my way through security and to my gate.

I’d never been on a plane before, but the excitement was completely lost on me considering my predicament. I boarded the plane and waited for takeoff, feeling completely numb.