Page 18 of Dancing With Redemption

9

Roxie

“Isee you’ve used the facilities. Well done,” a woman said in a slight accent, in her late fifties or early sixties, as she walked into the room, flicking on a light as she did so.

Roxie stared at her from the floor, her lips sealed in shock. A woman was behind this?

The woman was of Italian descent, with black hair, dark brown eyes, and the olive skin that bespoke her heritage. She was a thin woman with an expensive Dior dress on her slim frame, surrounded almost completely with a thick fur coat. Roxie decided the woman could be older now that she was standing under the light, plastic surgery may have hidden a year or two.

“Do I meet your expectations?” The woman asked with a laugh that revealed perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth. “I suppose I don’t. If I had to guess, I’d say you were expecting a man. That happens a lot, quite a lot.”

The woman’s words trailed off as she came closer to look at Roxie. “You look just like your mother, do you know that?”

“You knew my mother?” Roxie asked, surprised at this. She blinked in confusion, her blue eyes on the woman who moved almost like a snake, a very deadly snake. The woman’s eyes locked onto Roxie, and if a tiny black tongue had darted out of her thin face, it wouldn’t have surprised Roxie one bit.

“I did, briefly, yes. She wasn’t very interesting, and she had no idea who I was at the time, but no matter.” The woman’s hands, encased in black leather gloves, waved slightly as she looked around the room. “Clarence, can you bring a chair in for me, please?”

The man with the extremely scary eyes came in, a kitchen chair in his hands. His eyes were as dead as they always were, but even his lips were turned down now, in a frown or a smirk, Roxie couldn’t tell which. That made him scarier, whichever expression it was. That was the face of a killer. And she watched serial killer documentaries, she’d seen a few killers.

“Aren’t you even a little afraid?” The woman interrupted Roxie as she kept track of the stinky guy. He still smelled of unwashed body and far too much cheap cologne, Roxie found out when he put the chair just out of her reach but close enough for her to smell him. Only, the cologne seemed to be even stronger now. Had he put more on because it was later in the day or because he was meeting the woman who must be his boss?

Roxie couldn’t imagine there were many women who could order the big guy around like that, so this strange woman must be his boss. Then Roxie remembered the woman had asked a question. “That depends. Did you have something to do with my mother’s death?”

Roxie looked the woman in the eye, hoping her face was blank because, of course, she was scared shitless, but she didn’t want this woman to know that. This woman looked like she ate fear for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Letting her know Roxie was afraid would only feed that slithering snake that lived inside of her. Roxie didn’t want to do that, so she put on a brave front.

The woman smiled as if reading Roxie’s mind, even nodding when Roxie lifted her chin in defiance. “I see. You’ve decided to be brave. You’ll need that bravery later. For now, let’s talk.”

“About what?” Roxie asked, worrying now that the woman could read her thoughts. Or maybe she was just good at reading expressions, people, Roxie hoped.

“About your parents, my dear. After all, it was your father who started all of this, you see?” The woman held her hands out, indicating the room and Roxie. “If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be here and I would be, well, somewhere, someone else.”

“I don’t understand,” Roxie sputtered, not sure how to answer such a confusing statement. “If my dad had something to do with your circumstances in life, that’s not my fault. And, I have to say, you don’t seem like you’re in such a bad place, right now, compared to me.”

“Ah,” the woman said with a faint laugh, “a comedienne, are we?”

“No, I’m just stating the obvious.” Roxie looked at the woman doubtfully, wondering if antagonizing her was a good idea, but she instinctively fell back on her skills as an exotic dancer, the skills she’d developed over the years dealing with handymen who thought she owed them a blow job or quick fuck in the back of the club because they’d given her a four-dollar tip. Defusing their anger with contempt worked with most of them. They’d stalk off in a huff to try it on the next dancer who came their way.

“I see. Practical, then. I like that. Do you know you were supposed to die that night too? Unfortunately, you slipped out without my guys catching it. That’s made things messy for a decade. We’ve found you a couple of times, but you always slipped away. Until now. You came right to us this time, a gift on a silver platter.” The woman smiled a very pleased smile, and Roxie wondered if she’d misjudged her. She might be crazier than Roxie thought to begin with.

She definitely wasn’t a well-balanced woman, or a long-lost great-aunt looking to give Roxie an inheritance and a royal title. “Happy to have been of service to you. Can I go now?”

“May I,” the woman said, correcting Roxie as though it was a habit she’d developed on someone else. “And no, you may not. And if you try, Clarence there will shoot you in the ankle. You won’t be running anywhere after that. But maybe I should make it a knee. If, by some miracle, you make it out of this alive, it would be nice to know you’ll never dance again. That should break your spirit. In fact, I may have him do it anyway. Clarence, do you have your gun?”

Roxie shied away, tucking her legs up under her as far as she could, while Clarence waved his gun around before shoving it in the back of his jeans. If she made it out of this alive, the woman had said. If by some miracle, even. Fuck. She was in deep shit.

“Yes, maybe I’ll do it anyway. I’ll think about it and decide later. You see, your dad fucked my life up a long time ago and I’d really like to repay him. Well, to carry out the rest of his sentence on you.”

“But why me? What did I do to you? For that matter, what did he do?” Roxie demanded, but the woman just shook her head, her hair not moving from the French twist it was pinned into tightly.

“I’m not letting you rush me, honey. I’ve waited ten years for this moment. And lately, well, I’ve had a few disappointments. Far too many.” The woman’s eyes became distant, and Roxie could only assume she was thinking over those events. Roxie didn’t care if the woman had lived an entire life of disappointments, none of that had anything to do with her. “I’m going to enjoy every single moment that I have with you. I’ve waited decades, really, to get full revenge. And while I can’t totally get that with you, I can get a good deal of satisfaction out of what is about to transpire.”

“What is about to transpire?” Roxie asked, but apparently, Clarence had just about had enough of Roxie’s questions. He stalked over to Roxie, slapped her so hard her split lip began to bleed again, and walked far enough away that she could breathe again, out of the cloud of stink he gave off.

“Please stop interrupting me, it’s rude,” Madam in her fur coat said, rolling her eyes. “Did your parents teach you nothing?”

“Well, I lost them when I was eighteen, apparently at your bidding.” Roxie couldn’t hold the words back and expected the blow that made her ears ring. That still didn’t help the ringing or the pain that came with it.

“Yes, it was my bidding. Your father did a very nasty thing to me. An unforgivable thing.”