beat you down until you went off and let the Callahan boys prove that asshole right.”
Bodie blushed and averted her gaze. She remembered that night. Her father screaming and shouting that she was a whore, a slut. For two whole days she’d taken his verbal abuse, never once standing her ground and telling him she’d been late for curfew because she’d been studying with Liam.
Tired of listening to the foul tirades, she’d called Liam and broken down in tears, telling him of her plans before she ended the call and trudged down to the Callahan house. Prepared to become what her father believed she was in order to bear the weight of his words as truth.
What Liam didn’t know was that she hadn’t been able to go through with it. She’d been a virgin, only sixteen and in love with the idea of being in love, enamored with finding the man her heart was made for.
She’d found herself on the Callahan doorstep, hand raised to knock on the door, when she’d heard noises coming from around the back of the house. Silent as a mouse, she’d snuck around to the backyard, sticking to the shadows.
What she’d seen had struck terror in her teenaged heart and sent her running home with everything she’d ever known twisted inside her like death.
Under the low lights of the club bar, Bodie swallowed back the sickness of the memory and got sucked into the pain of betrayal. Betrayal caused by someone—the last someone—she loved.
Her vision was muddled when she pushed her untouched drink back toward Liam, leaving a small smear of water across the smooth surface of the wood, not unlike the remnants of her heart beneath Liam’s boot. Her legs wobbled as she slipped off the barstool, her knees buckling a little before she managed to shore up the holes in her heart.
“Ah shit, Bodie.”
She lifted her hand to cut him off. She had to work some spit into her mouth; most of the moisture lurked behind her eyes. Ready to spill as soon as it was safe to do so. “Thank you for the offer, William. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”
“Bodie—”
Her boots clicked quietly over the hardwood floors as she walked away. Every step fractured the temporary structure currently holding her together until it was holding on by threads. She ignored Liam’s quiet calls, knowing he wouldn’t chase after her because he believed she wouldn’t just walk away.
She kissed goodbye to a full stomach, to rent, to a future where she might have stood a chance of living comfortably. Taking the job when her immediate supervisor thought so little of her wouldn’t create a productive or creative atmosphere for dance.
The moment the main doors closed behind her, she locked down every emotion threatening to bring her to her knees. She didn’t cry. Ever. This setback in her life was nothing new and she wasn’t going to let it undermine her control.
*
Two weeks later, she was a wreck.
As her little old-fashioned boombox churned out tunes on the street corner, Bodie let herself dance for all she was worth. Thoughts of Liam were banished so long as the music kept playing. As long as her body and her feet kept her moving, spinning, she could forget the heartbreak, the doom and gloom of her existence, and just live in the music.
Despite the light spattering of rain and the clouds keeping the sun from coming out to play, there was a small gathering of spectators willing to stand and get damp for a few minutes as she moved gracefully to one of the slower songs on her playlist.
The money in her box was pitifully empty, and she knew it was going to be another day where she couldn’t even make twenty bucks. It just gouged another chunk out of her, sent her reeling into the pit of despair she spent so much time in lately.
As the song drew to an end, she was gifted with a smattering of applause before her audience drifted away to warmer, drier places and left her breathing hard, swiping sweat and tears away before anyone noticed it wasn’t just the efforts of her dancing that made her face wet.
Sighing, Bodie peered miserably into the box as a couple of coins thudded in. If she hit the discount section of the grocery store, she might be able to afford something to eat, but the chances of her making rent were pretty much zero. Never mind her utility bills—she already had a