I smiled despite myself.
I locked my car and headed inside, climbed the interior stairs to the studio. Started setting up. Queued the music. Positioned mats. Wiped down mirrors. Changed into my practice clothes.
Normal routine. Normal class.
Except my hands shook adjusting the speakers.
At six-fifty, Maya arrived with a redhead. I waved from inside the studio.
"Lacey, this is Christine." Maya grinned as they climbed the stairs. "She's been dying to try this."
"Welcome." I smiled at Christine. "First time on a pole?"
"Yeah. I'm a little nervous."
"Don't be. We'll start with basics."
Jenna and Riley showed up next, followed by two college students who'd found me on social media. Seven women total.
Seven people depending on me to teach them. To keep them safe.
Once everyone was inside, I closed the door and turned the lock.
Outside the studio windows, winter darkness had already fallen. The overhead lights felt brighter against the black glass.
We warmed up with stretches and basic conditioning. I demonstrated a combination—body spiral transitioning into a carousel spin. Maya nailed it on her second try, and Christine whooped.
"That's it!" I grinned. "You've got the movement."
The class flowed. Riley held an iron cross for thirty seconds—a new record. The beginners managed climbs without slipping. I lost myself in teaching, in watching these women discover their strength.
Then, at eight-fifteen, everything stopped.
A loud CRASH from downstairs. Breaking glass.
Everyone froze.
"What was that?" Jenna whispered.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the interior stairs. Fast. Angry.
"Open up!" A man's voice, thick and off-kilter. "Open up! You dance for me!"
The studio door shook violently. The lock held, but the whole frame rattled.
"She's mine!" Warren's voice. Raw. Delusional. "She dances just for me! We're together!"
My students screamed.
My hands were steady now. Clear. I grabbed my bag and pulled out the pepper spray.
"Get behind me," I told the women. My voice came out calm. Controlled. "Now. Against the far wall."
They scrambled back. Maya had her phone out, calling 911.
Warren threw himself against the door. The frame shuddered.
"You can't keep me out!" His fists hammered the wood. "You're mine! You perform for me!"
