Page 33 of Heart of Sin

The time’s right.

I shoot her a text. Another thing she’s usually pretty good about. Texting back.

But again, no answer.

Now I’m getting worried. My stomach clenches and I slide out of my stool, bringing my phone up to my ear as I call her for real.

“Hey, kitty cat,” I say when I’m sent to voice mail. “It’s time for our date. You running late? Just let me know. I’m off tomorrow. We can reschedule. Call me soon as you can.”

I spend the next hour waiting on a call that never comes. I send another text, probably sounding like I’m overreacting, but I can’t help it—her silence is concerning.

At the two hour mark, I cave and call the Dollhouse.

One of the dancers, Skye, answers. “Vixen? She was here earlier.”

The clench in my stomach tightens. “She was? Do you know why?”

“Um,” she says, popping gum over the phone, “she asked to speak with Randall. I think about getting on the schedule again. She wanted her old setup back. Tuesdays, Wednesdays off. Thursdays to Mondays on the stage and working the VIPs. You want me to take a message?”

I’m so shocked, I can’t even answer the girl. I lower the phone from my ear, staring ahead of me at my living room without really seeing what’s in front of me.

None of what she said makes sense.

Why would Tasha speak to Randall about working at the Dollhouse again? Working the stage, working thoseVIP rooms, again?

We’d agreed she’d quit. We’d work to establish her a more appropriate career history in the eyes of the state, so she could begin trying for custody of her sisters.

…what would make her change her mind? Is she having more money troubles? Why not come to me? How could she agree to go back to that without letting me know?

The night’s a rough one. I’m neurotic in how I can’t stop thinking about it. I text her a couple more times. Some calls are placed too.

All go unanswered.

Am I being fucking ghosted?!

By the time morning rolls around, I’m halfway ready to hop on a plane and fly to Vegas myself. Fuck what Vic says about taking trips. I need to speak with her!

My phone rings as I’m minutes away from sitting down at my laptop and googling flight tickets. ‘Kitty Cat’ flashes across my phone screen. I answer before the second ring even begins.

“Tasha,” I say. “What the hell’s going on?! Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for twelve hours!”

She’s quiet on the other end. If not for her breathing, I’d question if we’ve been disconnected.

“Tasha,” I growl. “What the fuck!?Answer me!”

That temper she’s rarely seen is rearing its ugly head. I’m pissed as hell. Not only has she left me in a panic, worried about if she’s okay, but I’ve been broken-hearted thinking about the scenarios she’s found herself in.

“Louis, I can’t see you anymore.”

“You… what?!”

“It’s over. We’re over. I’m moving on.”

I’m reeling. All of a sudden, the room feels like it’s moving around me. I plop down on my couch as if I’ve been decked hard in the face and need a moment to shake off the dizziness.

“Moving on,” I repeat. “You’re moving on.”

Pause.