The panic I’d felt earlier was nearly paralyzing.
“There you go. You look beautiful,” one of the girls said, although I had no idea which one.
“Thank you.”
I didn’t recognize myself any longer, but maybe that was what I needed. To pretend to be someone I wasn’t.
All while the work was being done, my thoughts drifted back and forth from Jaxon to my father, with constant glances toward my phone.
“How does that feel?” the costume mistress asked.
“Fine. Good. Okay.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Move for me. I want to ensure you don’t split a seam.”
I did as I was told, almost doubling over from the number of butterflies swarming my stomach.
Her nod to the others was a final approval. “Don’t sit down,” she instructed.
“Okay. I won’t.”
When she left, another wave of loneliness kicked in. I needed a friendly voice. I hated how much I was shaking, needing Jaxon more than anything at this point. When I dialed his number, I tried to smile but failed. Maybe I was hoping I could somehow disguise the terror I felt.
Again there was nothing but dead air. Or maybe there was a beep and I’d been too absorbed in my own thoughts. “Jaxon. It’s me. Your lost angel. We’re about to go on stage. I just… Well, I just wanted to hear your voice. I hope you’re still coming tonight. I admit I’d love to see you. Um. I heard there was some explosion and… Well, I was worried. Just let me know you’re okay.”
What the hell had I even said?
He had told me that I was his for the time being. Right? He wouldn’t disappoint me and I doubted anyone could get to him. Not with the number of soldiers he had.
Although he’d been going to find out from Carmine Russo what was going on.
Russo. I remembered the name. My father had experienced more than one issue with the family.
“You can’t do this to yourself.” I made a face in the mirror. The show had to go on.
I tossed my phone, trying to laugh off the fact I couldn’t get in touch with him.
Another knock and one of the stage managers stuck his head in. “Five minutes.”
“I’ll be ready.” I plastered on a smile, shoring my shoulders as I’d been trained to do.
Trained.
My father’s words about being called home slithered into my mind. I had to push everything else aside but the dance.
I closed my eyes, doing my breathing exercises as I tried to put myself into the zone. Finally, I could hear the music in my head.
The ring from my phone was jarring. I was certain my handsome captor was returning my call. I snatched the phone without looking.
“Hello?”
“Miss Scavullo. It’s Sophia. It’s so good to hear your voice. So very good.”
A beep on my phone indicated another call.
My eyes snapped open. She sounded nervous. “Sophia. You called me back. Oh, my God. Are you okay? How’s my father? Is there something going on I should know about?”
When she let out a sob, I fell against the table. “Your brother. He… He…”
