One Dirty Night

Without my permission, my hands wrenched open the drawer full of make-up, and before I could second guess myself again, I swiped smoky shadow on my eyelids, mascara on my long lashes, and peach gloss on my lips. I even applied a spritz of expensive perfume that my lab partner, Kate, had bought me and I’d never bothered to use.

What was the point?

Petri dishes didn’t care if I smelled good.

Ebola didn’t care if my legs were shaved or if I got laid the night before.

But I care.

Tonight, I wouldn’t be that Ella.

I’m going to be free.

Dashing to my wardrobe, I shoved my feet in my black patent heels, grabbed a cute beaded bag with a rose on the front that I’d bought and promptly regretted, then sashayed through the house to my desk in the front sunroom.

Lucky for me, my work required a monthly checkup thanks to all our handling of contagious diseases. But what about the people who didn’t have such risky jobs? How did they enter the circus with its rule of medical resumes?

Nick has one.

He would have the same letterhead on his, listing his bloodwork and every other biological secret.

He didn’t go; you know this.

He was most likely sulking in a bar, waiting until midnight so he could come home and pretend he’d had a wild night out.

Well, good.

I didn’t want him there.

I wanted nothing from this boring life to interfere with my newfound freedom.

Tonight, I might end up being flung around by an acrobat or tied up by a rope magician or whipped into an orgasm by a sadistic lion tamer.

Tonight, I could be anyone and do anything I wanted.

The tingles were back.

The shaky need and burning want hijacked my normal decorum, and I bolted from my house.

I didn’t bother taking my car.

The rain had stopped, the pavements dry, the clouds parted for a river of brilliant stars.

I stood on my street, smiled at the moon, and ran in high heels as fast as I could, straight into the arms of sin.

Chapter Three

THE BIG TOP SET THE NIGHT SKY ON FIRE.

Purple and silver spotlights swung in lazy arcs, and the pony carousel that looked so quaint and innocent played a melody reminding me of childhood days and summertime.

The silver fences ringing the circus glittered with warning, screaming the rules that to enter was to make a choice. To enter was to leave all inhibitions and preconceptions behind.

I still had no idea if what I thought went on in there was the truth.

But standing on the curb watching wasn’t getting me any closer to learning.

Only problem was, my heart flopped around as if it might faint at any moment. My blood buzzed, and my skin was coated in the finest mist of nervous sweat. I hadn’t bothered bringing a coat, and my arms pricked with goosebumps even while my insides burned.