Dance For Me (Fenbrook Academy #1)(29)
Author: Helena Newbury

I’d thought I could fix her. I’d thought I was dealing with some trauma from the past, like mine, and maybe I could have helped her with that. But she was facing her trauma again every day, every time she looked in the mirror. She thought she’d killed her parents, and she’d thought that every single day since she was fifteen. No wonder she cut herself. She’d claimed she’d been coping—and maybe she had—but I’d come in and ripped away her only way of dealing with things, making her feel ashamed of it. I’d wanted to know her secrets, and I’d cruelly torn her open to get them. And then she’d spilled her last, dark secret to try to help me, only to discover I was too far gone to save.

And now what would happen to her? Would she meet someone else, someone normal, who’d be able to help her break free of her past? I tried to tell myself it was true, but I knew in my gut that it wasn’t. Ours had been a chance meeting, and she’d trusted me—probably against her instincts. Thanks to me, she wouldn’t trust again for a long time—maybe never. I loved her, and I’d managed to leave her far worse than I’d found her.

What do you do when you realize you’re the bad guy?

I pushed the thought out of my head. There was nothing I could do about it. She’d never accept me doing what I did, and there was no way I could quit. I was locked on this path.

I called a hire company and arranged for them to drop off a van in an hour. I’d drive the missile down to Virginia myself, delivering it to Carol’s company personally—a road trip was just what I needed. When I got back, the stage would be gone and I could get on with whatever project Carol found for me next. Life could get back to normal and, in time, I could forget all about her. It was time to accept what I was and get on with it. That’s what grown-ups did.

I called Neil and asked him if he’d skip classes at MIT for a couple of days to come with me. We could share the driving, put the bikes in the back of the van and ride back on them when we’d dropped off the missile. He could tell something was wrong, but he agreed to come, never able to pass up a long ride.

When he showed up, his first question was if Natasha was coming, too. He had a plan to pick up Clarissa and the girls could ride pillion on the way back, with us all camping in the forest. He even had a tent we could use.

I just looked at him, and he could see it in my eyes. His face fell, and he pulled me into one of his bone-crushing man hugs.

“What happened?” he asked, when he let me go.

I knew there was no way to explain. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He gave me a long look. “It was the work, wasn’t it? The goddamn work—”

“Just….” I shook my head. “No more distractions, from now on.”

“Distractions? That distraction was the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“Enough!” I almost yelled it, and the sudden flare of anger and hurt I saw in Neil’s face made me cringe inside. What had I turned into?

It was late morning before we had Neil’s Harley and my Ducatti strapped down in the back of the hired van, and slid the missile in between them. I didn’t miss the disgusted looks Neil gave the thing. He’d tied his hair back in a bandana while we worked, and between that and his biker clothes he looked like someone the cops would pull over on the flimsiest excuse—indeed, that happened on a weekly basis and Neil took great pleasure in flashing his MIT ID card along with his license. He’d be a doctor of science pretty soon, and he chose to hang around with criminals and dress like an outlaw. He needed to grow up.

I started the engine, and then just sat there, my fingers tracing the steering wheel.

What if Neil wasn’t the one who needed to grow up?

I was doing what I was supposed to do. It was what being an adult was all about: making the difficult choice instead of the easy one. Sacrificing what you wanted and doing what you needed.

Except….

What if this was the easy choice? I’d thought I was being brave, continuing on this path. But the thing that really scared me was changing course. If I stopped making weapons, I had literally no idea what the hell to do tomorrow, let alone the rest of my life. Even worse, I’d be admitting to myself that the last four years had been a mistake—that I’d been on the wrong path all along. What if Natasha was right, and there were better ways of remembering my folks? What if the really brave thing was to have the guts to let go of my past and make a fresh start…with someone I wanted to be with?

What if being an adult really came down to making my own decisions, instead of letting someone make them for me?

It was like a dam bursting open inside me, a tiny hole ripped wider and wider by the pressure. As the wall fell, I finally felt the certainty I’d been missing, the knowledge that this was right. And with it came a flipside, a sickening realization that everything I’d been doing since my parent’s death had been wrong.

I had to fix everything. Fortunately, solving problems is what I do.

I turned to Neil. “Call Big Earl.”

“Big-Earl-who-you-don’t-approve-of, Big Earl?

“We need his help.”

Neil looked over his shoulder at the missile. “We aren’t going to Virginia?” he asked hopefully.

“We’re not going to Virginia.”

“Where are we going?”

“Fenbrook.”

Chapter Thirty Eight

Natasha

Clarissa somehow cajoled me into the shower and then into some fresh clothes. She hugged and empathized and occasionally wished horrible deaths on Darrell, as if this was just your typical break up, but we both knew it wasn’t. I could see the worry in her eyes, and she could see I wasn’t just upset. I was broken, maybe in a way that could never be fixed.

We’d already missed one class and were late for the second, drawing glares from Miss Kay as we crept in. I tried to fill my mind with dance, but it didn’t work. I felt raw and torn, the part of my heart that belonged to Darrell viciously ripped away. I kept missing steps. I couldn’t even balance, my muscles weak and my joints stiff. Miss Kay took about three seconds to notice.

“Man trouble?” she asked, in a voice low enough that only I could hear it.

“What?”

“Someone’s messing with your brain, honey, and you might want to tell them to quit. ‘Cause the way you’re moving, right now? I ain’t seen that since you were a first day freshman.”

I took a deep breath, thinking of the cigarette case. I hadn’t had time to duck into the restroom before the class started. I didn’t even know if cutting would still work for me—it hadn’t that morning. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better tomorrow. I just need a little time.”

“What you need is to get your shit together. You split with someone?” I looked up, aghast, but she could see the truth in my eyes. “Yeah, I figured.” Her expression softened minutely. “I’m sorry, Natasha.” She patted me just once on the shoulder, the closest thing to affection she’d ever shown me, and walked off to correct someone’s fouetté.

I was barely holding it together. When you meet someone—when you meet the someone—you see yourself in a whole new light. I’d liked myself, when I’d been with him. I’d felt normal. Now I was back to being me, and it’s difficult to describe just how awful the return was. Before, at least I hadn’t fully realized what I’d been missing. I wished I’d never met him.

….

No. That wasn’t true. Our relationship had broken me, but the happiness we’d had together, the way he’d made me feel…that had been worth it, a thousand times over. Maybe this was my punishment—one last glimpse of the life I could have had, if I’d done things differently six years ago, and then it was ripped away to ensure that I’d never again do anything as selfish as try to love someone.

I could barely concentrate as I moved to the center to try a combination Miss Kay was drilling us on. I went through the motions, but my body felt as if it was made of wax. I powered upward in a grand jeté, floated for a second—

There was a crash as the doors opened and for a second, I thought I’d completely lost it and was reliving the audition. He was standing in the doorway, panting as if he’d just run up the stairs.

I landed, staggering a little, my mouth hanging open. Miss Kay was already turning to the door.

“You’d better not be a boyfriend,” she told Darrell as she stalked toward him. Then she glanced over her shoulder and saw my expression. “Oh, Lord.” She glared at Darrell. “Now you’re really in trouble.”

“I need to speak to her,” Darrell told her. He looked over at me, and his eyes weren’t clouded anymore. They were as bright and clear as I’d ever seen them.

He took a step towards me and suddenly Miss Kay’s right leg was straight out in front of her, the tip of her shoe prodding him in the waist. The room went utterly silent. Both her legs were like iron, with not a hint of a wobble. “Whoah, whoah, whoah, whoah!” she told him. “You’re already in my bad books, but if you go disruptin’ my class, you and me are gonna have a conversation.”

I started forward, but Clarissa’s arm came up in front of me. She shot a questioning look at me and I hesitated. After the way he’d hurt me, did I really want to open myself up again?

I looked into those gorgeous blue eyes. Yes. Yes, I did, because what was the alternative? Close myself down for the rest of my life? I’d had my glimpse of a better life, a better me, and if there was even a slim possibility that could still be real, I had to be brave enough to reach for it.

I came up behind Miss Kay. Her foot was still prodding Darrell’s stomach, and she gave every sign of being able to keep it there for a week if need be. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was me. “Is this man the reason your pas de chat looks like a pas de herd-of-goddamn-buffalo?”

I took a deep breath. “Yes ma’am.”

She stared at him. “Cute.”

I didn’t know who was blushing more, Darrell or me.

Miss Kay finally lowered her leg. “Two minutes,” she told us, and walked off, clapping her hands for a break. The rest of the class began to chatter behind me, but they kept their voices low. They wanted to hear.

I pushed Darrell out into the hallway. He looked at me, panicked by the time limit. I just nodded, trying to stop my lower lip from trembling. We had to do this here, now.

He closed his eyes for a second, getting it straight in his head. Then those clear blue eyes pinned me and he spread his hands wide. “I’m sorry. When you told me about what happened to you, I was caught up in my past. All I could think about was us splitting up, and how it was all my fault.” His fingers gently stroked my cheek, and I caught my breath. “I was a selfish bastard. I should have made sure that even if we split up, I still told you….” He swallowed and I held my breath. “Natasha, it was not your fault. It was a horrible, horrible accident and it changed you forever but you don’t need to carry this guilt around with you anymore. You were a kid and you made a mistake but their deaths were not your fault.”