Read Online Swan Song by Tracey Ward - Free Book Online

as though I weigh nothing and drags me quickly into an alley. We’re instantly hidden in the shadows, surrounded by empty crates and darkness. When I look up at him, his face is hard and at home. This is where he works. This is where he lives - half seen in the cold empty.
    “Look at me,” he demands.
    I already am. He’s all I can see. His electric blue eyes and the deep lines of his face forming a frown of anger or frustration or confusion. He presses his body against mine, pinning me against the wall until it hurts. I’m trapped between two hard surfaces forcing the life out of me until suddenly Adrian dies on a gasp and Addy bursts to life in his arms. I stare up at him and I’m not the singer in the club. Not a canary in a cage. Not a bundle of flesh and bone and blood under Tommy’s watchful stare and insistent fingers.
    I’m a woman – breathing deep and burning fast.
    “What is it about you and gangsters, huh?” he rasps, his hands pinning my arms to my sides. “Is this what you like? The violence? The danger?”
    “You,” I confess in a strained whisper. “I like you.”
    He stares at me as though he didn’t hear me. As though he can barely even see me. My words don’t register with him, or if they do, they mean nothing. “This is how it is with me. Nothing nice. Nothing sweet. Nothing real or meaningful to tell your girlfriends about.”
    “I don’t care about all of that,” I breathe, my chest painfully being crushed by his.
    “You will. Eventually you will, and I won’t give you any of it. I’m all whiskey, all sour, and you think you want it now, but in the long run you’ll want something else. Something I don’t have. So why don’t you save us both the trouble, sweetheart, and go sing this song to Tommy or one of the other guys drooling over you every night in that joint.”
    He shoves away from me, leaving me limp against the cold, brick wall. He backs away a few steps, but his eyes never leave mine. He’s waiting for something. Maybe for me to cry or for me to run to him, cling to him. Beg him to see that he’s wrong and that I want him any way I can have him. But as much as my body misses the weight of him against it, that’s one thing I’ll never do. I’ll never beg any man for anything.
    So I walk away and I don’t look back.

 
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     
     
    My head is killing me. It’s not the first time this week, but I really hope it’s the last. I must be coming down with something. I think about asking around to some of the girls, see if they’re feeling under the weather too, but I don’t want to cause a fuss. I don’t want people knowing I’m getting sick because it will only get back to Tommy or Ralph and they’ll flip their lids. Rescheduling acts during the holiday season is tough. One night with me out of commission will be a huge production for them, meaning it’d be a huge production for me and a whole lot of guilt, so I wince against the lights pouring down on me here on the stage, and I keep it to myself.
    “Do you wanna switch the order of the songs around?” Smitty asks.
    I take a long look at the drummer, trying to focus. “Yeah,” I tell him, “Let’s bring the slow number to the close. Tone the place down a bit.”
    “When are we starting with Christmas songs in the act?” Clara calls out loudly from the chorus lineup.
    She’s a young girl with wild red hair but shapely hips and ankles. The ankles are what got her hired. That and Hal’s strange obsession with them. He begged and pleaded with Ralph to give the girl a chance, and lucky for her he did. Lucky for me she has talent. Two days later she was in the show.
    It only took Hal two more to get into her .
    “Not until it’s actually Christmas time,” I mutter.
    “Amen,” Smitty agrees quietly.
    I look at him sideways, grinning.
    “It’s practically Christmas now,” Clara whines. “Don’t ya see the snow outside? It’s the season. Yo ho ho.”
    I grit my teeth.