Retribution: Who would you kill to escape your past?

by Diane Demetre

  Scene one ended. Like a hot air balloon escaping the earth, her spine stretched upwards, her muscles lengthened and she channelled the energy. The corps de ballet fluttered onto the stage in the blackout, taking their places. She intuited a glance in her direction from Jasmine and smiled a silent thank you in return. In the moments of deathly silence which followed, she prepared with a deep breath and final over arch of her pointe shoes.

  Moving forward in the wings, she concentrated on embodying the character of the Swan Queen—graceful, entrapped and forlorn. Around her all movement stopped. As the lighting changed and on the beat of her choosing, she stepped delicately onto the stage bathed in an eerie, blue light. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight steps and prepare. Arms poised like the wings of a swan, she tilted her head downward and surrendered to the music, the dance and her destiny.

  Over the next two hours, never before had such emotion surfaced in her performance. The pain and suffering experienced by the character of Odette surged through every cell of Jessie’s body. The desperate love between Odette and the Prince and the cruelty of their inevitable doom struck a chord in her heart, bringing real tears to her eyes as she danced. Enraptured in the performance, she reached into the brimming well of her emotions, baring her soul for all to see.

  By the time she had taken four curtain calls, accepted the praise heaped upon her backstage, showered and changed, she was both elated and exhausted. All she wanted was to see BJ and go home to his place with friends and family for a post-performance celebration.

  Sitting in front of her private dressing room mirror, she unpinned the tight bun of her hair. Mingled with the scent of dozens of roses and other flowers celebrating her opening night of the season, the smell of success filled the room. Taking a deep breath, she wanted to remember this moment, forever. She paused, filling her senses. Tap, tap, tap.

  “Come in.” Casting her gaze behind her in the mirror, she blew out a breath.

  “Congratulations, Jessie.” Tabitha Simpson stood just inside the door, her mouth pursed. The words obviously tasted bitter.

  “Thank you, Tabitha.” Jessie gave a smile sweet enough to attract bees. “How’s your ankle doing?” She plucked the last pins from her hair.

  “Much better. I’ll be dancing your part of the Swan Queen in no time.” Her mouth curved upward in an unattractive sneer.

  “Only if I injure myself,” said Jessie, her voice bright and breezy.

  “Well, you never know…”

  Jessie spun around in her chair. “You know what Tabitha? I wouldn’t bet on that happening anytime soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish dressing.” With another spin, she faced the mirror. Keeping her gaze glued on her own reflection, she brushed her hair in long, even strokes. Tabitha slinked from the room without a sound. About time, too. Having put Tabitha in her place and out of her mind, Jessie seized her career as a principal artist. No more looking over her shoulder or worrying about what other people thought. This was her time.

  With her usual enthusiasm, Jasmine popped her head into Jessie’s dressing room. “I’ll meet you in the foyer when you’re ready. Take your time. You were incredible, of course. But I always knew you would be.” She blew a kiss and left.

  Jessie zipped up her clinging black cocktail dress and stepped into a pair of strappy black stilettos. Slashing a lick of hot pink gloss on her lips, she grabbed the dozen red roses BJ had sent for opening night. Closing her new dance bag, another gift from him, she stifled a laugh. Inside the bag, hung her keys secured on a leather strap. “Now you can find your keys easily,” is what he’d said, when he presented her with the bag. Shaking her head, she clucked at his caring ways and at how lucky she was.

  With the bag hauled onto her shoulder and the bunch of roses crushed to her chest, she rushed to the foyer. Shouts from the media greeted her, as did David Fitzgibbons’ guiding hand which ushered her to a couch for a promised exclusive interview. Knowing the periphery obligations which came with the job, she responded to the media’s insistence with grace and humility. Once they’d got their all-important news, they vanished like vampires into the night.

  “Jessie you were truly wonderful. Congratulations.” David kissed her on both cheeks.

  “Thank you, David. Thank you for giving me the chance.”

  “You deserved it. I’d wanted to give the role to you for some time. I was just waiting for you to step up and claim it as your own.” A caring smile tipped his lips giving her the rare opportunity of seeing inside the artistic director. A dancer like her, he lived for the stage regardless how business-like his approach. “Go enjoy time with your friends and family. I’ll see you back here tomorrow night for another superb performance.”

  She dashed towards the stairs leading down to the lower foyer. By now, most people had left and only a few die-hard fans remained. She signed autographs, all the while glancing out of the corner of her eye. Where’s BJ? The last straggling fans departed, leaving only a small group of people at the bottom of the stairs. All eyes turned to her as did the big guy in the centre of the group. She gasped. There he stood, immaculate in his black dinner suit, looking like a famous movie star on the red carpet. But it wasn’t just the dinner suit. Tonight, he was less GI Joe and more James Bond. His trademark scruffy beard and pony tail were gone. Oh my God, he’s breath-taking.

  “Jessie.” His rich, velvety voice ascended the stairs.

  Spellbound, she could do nothing, but admire the most handsome man in the world climb the staircase towards her. Without his beard, the planes of his face cut an exquisite symmetry highlighting his splendid genetics. A dimple, which she’d not noticed until now, etched his chin adding a boyish impudence to his ruggedness. Shaped into a modern, executive cut, his hair sliced into the nape of his neck while a wicked bang of blonde and golden tints contrasted against the bronzed skin of his forehead. No longer competing against straw-coloured bristles and strands of hair, the striking glacial blue of his eyes shimmered like artic ice as he fused his gaze with hers.

  “My love. You were spectacular. I had no idea…” Enveloping her, roses and all, he pressed a passionate kiss to her mouth. She trembled at his delicious touch.

  “Oh, BJ. Look at you…” Tracing her fingers across his clean-shaven face, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his magnificence.

  “For you, my love. The principal artist of the Australian Ballet Company can’t be seen with some shabby bloke by her side.” His soft chortle lightened the mood.

  “But…”

  “It was time. Time to stop hiding myself away. Time to let you and the rest of the world see me, the real me. Do you approve?”

  “Oh, yes. Very much.” She stroked his smooth cheeks and flicked the wisps of hair from his brow.

  “Besides when I make love with you tonight, I don’t want to scratch your delicate skin.”

  Faltering slightly, she grabbed his arm. “Tonight?”

  “I figured you’d be deliriously happy after tonight’s performance. I most certainly am. So tonight’s the night. What do you think?

  “Deliriously happy is most definitely how I feel.”

  “Then let’s go home and celebrate.”

  Whiskey was sound asleep in her bed when midnight chimed and the last of the happy revellers departed. Leaning against the front door, BJ locked her in a heart-stopping gaze. Having discarded his jacket and tie when they got home, he looked even sexier with his shirt’s top buttons undone. Jessie’s breath hitched as he stalked down the hallway towards her. Pinning her to the wall, he leaned down and plundered her mouth in a ravenous kiss.

  “Still deliriously happy, my love?” His fingers toyed with the straps of her dress.

  “Oh, yes.” She squirmed hard against his body, feeling his excitement grow. Without another word, he scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom, where he lowered her to the floor. “What’s all this?” Filled with dozens of flickering, perfumed candles, the bathroom resembled a luxurious private gue
st spa, shimmering in a romantic glow.

  “I thought you’d like a relaxing spa after the show, so I set this up for us.” He leaned over the steaming water and switched on the bubbles.

  “But how? Jasmine and Ricky have only just left?”

  “Everyone was in on it. If you noticed, no one used the bathroom over the last thirty minutes which gave me time to sneak in and set up.” A devious smile curled his lips. “Now enough about logistics…Time to undress. Allow me.”

  At the touch of his magic fingers, she bowed to his will as he unzipped her dress. With every deliberate stroke, his lips enhanced the movement—first nibbling the nape of her neck, next pressing a kiss to her shoulders and then butterfly kissing each vertebra as the zipper bared the length of her spine. Her dress finally puddled on the floor, leaving her naked except for a black G-string and towering stilettos. Feeling a little self-conscious, because as a ballet dancer she had no body fat and therefore no full breasts, she bit her lip praying he wouldn’t be disappointed.

  Tracing the delicate musculature of her shoulders and torso to her pantie line, he groaned. “I have waited so long for you. You are more beautiful than I imagined.” He spun her to face him and raked every inch of her body. “Look at you. You’re perfect. I love you, Jessie Hilton.”

  Springing into the air, she wrapped her legs around his waist and peppered his face with kisses. She combed her fingers through his freshly-cut hair and said, “I love you, too, Brad Jordan. I think I loved you the moment you looked at me with that wild, blue gaze.”

  Unravelling her legs, he set her on the side of the spa. “Time to get naked, my love…” Reaching out, she touched the planes of his muscled chest as he shrugged off his shirt. He slid his belt from his trousers and unzipped, letting them fall to the floor. Clothed only in underwear, his buff, bronzed body twitched.

  Her eyes widened. “For me?”

  “For you,” he promised. Kneeling at her feet, he unfastened her shoes. “At last, I have your long, luscious legs to myself.” After discarding each shoe, he trailed his tongue up one leg and then the other. She wished for more legs.

  Her hands fluttered across his inked back and shoulders. “By the way, I never did ask you. What’s with the fire-breathing dragon tattoo across your back?”

  “It’s a promise of things to come, when I breathe fire between your legs, my love.” He glanced up at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Now, G-string…”

  As she peeled it off, he stepped out of his underwear. Within moments, they were locked in a passionate embrace in the welcoming warmth of the spa.

  “Oh God, Jessie I need to touch you.” Slipping his hand between her legs, he caressed her, tender yet deliberate. The candle flames blurred and danced like dozens of fireflies. Lost to everything except his touch, she arched her back and surrendered. All too soon, her body exploded. Never had she experienced such a mind-emptying, body-breaking orgasm. Never had she had such a talented partner. Never had she imagined she could feel this way. Spent and smiling, she drifted into the comforting warmth of the bubbles.

  Interrupting her after-glow, he collected her in his arms and purred. “My love, we’ve only just started.” He eased her onto his lap. Her sex-loosened muscles melted around him like rich, hot chocolate.

  “Oh God, that is so good,” she groaned.

  “You can have as much of me as you like, when you like.” With his powerful hands encircling her waist, he set a slow, steady tempo. Moments drifted into minutes as she rode him into a shared sexual nirvana. She eventually opened her eyes and cast him an impish smile.

  “What?” His brow knitted, while his hands fondled her breasts.

  “If this is opening night as a principal dancer with the Australian Ballet Company, then bring it on.”

  “Your wish is my command. Let’s fire this baby up?” Wrestling her into his arms, he rose from the spa like an ocean god. “It’s the bed for you.” In long strides he headed to the bedroom, leaving a trail of sudsy water through the house.

  Slung over his shoulder, she teased, “And what do you plan on doing to me?”

  “Look closer...”

  Face to face with his tattoo, she laughed as she prepared for the delectable onslaught of the fire-breathing dragon—her modern-day warrior.

  THE END

  I hoped you’ve enjoyed reading Retribution as much as I did writing it.

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  Behind the Scenes

  Spoiler Alert

  Retribution is my first foray into writing romantic suspense, a genre where the suspense element and the romantic relationship are equally important to the plot. I wanted to give an emotional depth to the story by constructing complex character arcs in a story that merges the deeper elements of life, love and hope. Retribution does not follow the usual formula for this genre… It is romantic suspense with a twist.

  This story is my way of paying tribute to the people who have endured more than most. Those who have lived hellish childhoods, those who have fought for our freedom, those who have experienced unimaginable trauma and those who may never recover from their suffering. With the overarching theme of forgiveness and redemption, Retribution pays homage to the human condition in all its glory and misery.

  Having trained in ballet and worked as a professional dancer, choreographer and director, I knew my protagonist had to be a ballerina, as they possess the qualities I needed for my story. Tough, disciplined and ambitious, she had to be driven to achieve her dreams, even against the worst odds. As a lover of the Australian Ballet and having access to past students and dancers, I created a protagonist who fit the role of an Aussie Ballet soloist. Soloist is the final step before becoming a principal dancer, which is the highest position in any ballet company. For those who have the talent, dedication and grit to make it, the transition from soloist to principal is a career highlight. The incomparable Amber Scott from the Aussie Ballet is who I used for inspiration. https://australianballet.com.au/artist/amber-scott

  My hero had to be her match; a man with equal power, passion and fortitude. Since I’ve always had great respect and gratitude for the men, women and animals of our armed forces, I knew my hero would be one of them. They’re a rare breed who place themselves in harm’s way to fight for our freedoms and way of life. A uniquely Australian character, my hero needed to be a professional soldier with a damaged past and worthy of finding love again. Inspired by Chris Hemsworth in the lead role of Thor and then clean-shaven in a dinner suit from his modelling days, he represented the two incarnations of my hero.

  Thus, Jessie Hilton and Brad Jordan were born.

  I set about researching my main characters by watching documentaries on the SAS, reading autobiographies of snipers and talking with professional ballet dancers and students. Having worked for over three decades in the live entertainment industry, I had first-hand experience of what happens onstage, backstage and in a dancer’s mind, giving me a unique insight into Jessie’s character and that of the secondary ‘ballet’ characters. I’ve met many talented ballerinas like Jessie who never think their work is good enough. As for Brad, I’ve inherently found writing from the male point of view (POV) liberating. Getting inside the head of an alpha male who is at once, powerful and vulnerable is a writing space I thoroughly enjoy. Perhaps I’ve lived past lives as a man…

  Then there is BJ’s dog, Whiskey, who is also a main character. She is integral to the story and a true hero. I am a BIG animal lover and have a furry family of three dogs. I fashioned Whiskey on my own Border collie, Gypsy Rose, who I named in honour of a famous American burlesque dancer. Although not as well trained as Whiskey, Gypsy possesses the same enthusiasm and gentle nature as Whiskey. You can see pictures of my puppies on my blog. https://dianedemetre.com/blogposts/

  Although categorised as a romantic suspens
e, Retribution delves deeper into the human psyche and explores how people deal with their emotional past. As such, I wanted to set Jessie’s past in the context of a real location. I needed a small rural town within a six to seven hour driving distance from Melbourne, where the Australian Ballet Company is based. I also needed this town to be quintessentially Australian, with an historical bed & breakfast on its outskirts and a believable lair nearby for the antagonist. My husband, who has travelled by road throughout most of Australia suggested a little town called Yass. A place I’d never heard of. Bingo! Not only did Yass look like the town I imagined when I began plotting Retribution, it had a nearby homestead, perfect for Jessie’s childhood—Coodravale Homestead. Yes, it is real, as is its history which I weave into the story. My thanks go to its owners John and Rosemary Robinson for their help during my research. https://www.coodravalehomestead.com/

  To truly capture the essence of Coodravale and the town of Yass and its surrounds, my husband and I set off on a fourteen-hour drive from our home on the Gold Coast to the gateway of the Yass Valley. When we finally arrived, I hung out the window taking photos while he drove up and down the streets. We visited the hospital, police station, RSL Club, coffees shops, the cemetery and a variety of other places that feature in the book.

  The scenery heading out of Yass to Coodravale was truly inspiring. It exemplified what Icehouse sang in their 1989 hit, Great Southern Land, which I have playing as I write this. Icehouse not only captured the landscape of Australia, but its history and spirit with this song. I tried to do the same with my setting descriptions in Retribution. The location details I describe in the story are true, at least they were when we did this trip in 2016. My research notebook is full of moments when we stopped the car, and I jotted down my feelings, observations and thoughts. For example, these are some of the rough notes I jotted down on that trip…