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She nods.
“Kick my foot if you want the napkin.” I’ll need to create a diversion.
She nods again. But she’s not whacking my shin. For Jane, it’s a last resort. I lower my hand from her mouth. Quickly, she swallows down the organ with a swig of wine and then picks up the last heart.
I draw attention off her and ask Beckett, “How do you like your new bodyguard?”
“O’Malley?” Beckett shrugs, eyes dropping. “He’s fine.” He sucks on his cigarette.
I would’ve never assigned him to Beckett’s detail. It has nothing to do with his skills as a bodyguard. We all know O’Malley thinks Donnelly is white trash, and this transfer is just another slap to SFO.
My fault.
I massage my strained deltoid.
Charlie is watching me.
I nod to him. Confused about whether he hates me or likes me—two extremes. That’s what I feel from Charlie, and it’s strange terrain.
He just smiles, then looks to Beckett. His twin brother passes the burning cigarette to Charlie. He takes a drag and blows smoke to the side before handing it back.
Jane gulps more wine. “Done!” She pounds the bottle on the table while her brothers applaud. My lip lifts and a bright smile overtakes her features. “We make a good team, don’t we?”
“Hell yeah.” I eye her pink lips.
Flush sneaks up her neck, and she almost touches her skirt, forgetting her hands are bloodied. I catch her wrist.
Her breastbone caves. “Oh.”
My cock almost hardens. Fuck.
“That’s all for tonight,” Charlie tells us and tosses Jane more napkins. He stands up, cane in hand.
I let go of her wrist, and she wipes at her fingers. Beckett gathers the spread cards into a single stack. “You should take the cards, Charlie.”
“No, you keep them.” Charlie slowly sinks back down and places his cane on the table.
The air strains.
Beckett makes a confused face. “Besides Jane, you’re the only other Cobalt going on the trip. I can’t make her and Thatcher play the game if I’m in New York.”
Charlie glances to Jane, and she gives him a tense nod. I understand the clandestine exchange.
I’m in on this plan that we’ve all been constructing. So are Banks, Maximoff, and Farrow. I didn’t think it’d be implemented tonight, but I’m prepared for the fallout.
Shit is about to get tense.
Beckett doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s going to Scotland.
10
JANE COBALT
“You’re taking a week off ballet and coming on the trip,” I tell Beckett, my rabbit-filled stomach in a blender and my pulse racing at a million miles per hour. Yet, I can’t let up on him.
I won’t.
Charlie has an arm across the back of the booth behind Beckett, and Thatcher angles more towards me. My wingman.
My right-hand.
My partner in crime.
My protector.
My boyfriend.
It feels terribly good to have him next to me, especially in case this all backfires.
Beckett tilts his head, his befuddled expression cinching his brows. “I can’t just take off an entire week. You know that, right?”
The booth is quiet. Really, the entire sports bar is deathly still and silent—no one from the bar makes a peep. Even the ones who don’t truly know what this is about seem to imprison oxygen.
Dry Merlot and pungent meat sours my mouth. “You took off months for the FanCon tour,” I remind him.
Beckett sets down the lion-decaled cards, straightening them into an even stack again. “I was between major productions at the time. I can’t miss a performance now.” He dances six nights a week in Cinderella, and his days are crammed with six-hour rehearsals and hour-long morning classes.
I know very well how hard he works.
How much he’s sacrificed for ballet. It makes this next part that much more painful.
“You can stay here and dance, but if you continue to use, then Charlie, Moffy, and I will force you on this trip.”
Beckett freezes cold. Fury lances his yellow-green eyes. I’ve seen his calm exterior rupture and explode quite a few times in my life, but mostly it’s only ever been to protect Charlie.
“Use what?” Eliot asks, breathing hard. “Beckett?”
Tom gapes. “Dude.” New York hedonism, they’re all surrounded by the lifestyle of debauchery, riches, and fame.
Ben stares haunted at the table.
I glance backward at the bar, and Sulli mouths to me, what the fuck? Beckett is her best friend. None of them knew.
Not until now.
Beckett lets out a blistering breath. “Thanks, sis.” He glares at Thatcher. “Fuck your brother—”
“He didn’t do anything,” Thatcher snaps.
“I know Banks saw me do a key bump, and I know he told you. Half of Omega already found out.” Beckett pins his glare back on me. “I use so I can dance through minor pain. That’s it.”
“A key bump in an alley helps you dance?” I combat.
“It was before rehearsal.” He snuffs out his cigarette on the ashtray.
I lean toward him. “You’ll hurt yourself more if you dance with injuries.”
He throws up a hand. “You think I’m the only one who does? Everyone pushes their bodies to extremes. I’d love to just pop Adderall like half the company, but I can’t!”
My face twists. “Why can’t you? Not that you should do that either,” I add quickly.
Beckett shifts backwards, then forwards. He turns to Charlie. “I’m not doing this here.”
“Yes you are.”
“Charlie,” he pleads. “Let me go.”
Charlie can’t look at his twin. He eyes me, in need of an assist.
I come in. “Beckett—”
“Adderall terrorizes my OCD! Okay?” Beckett rubs his palms together, then clutches his thighs. “Cocaine doesn’t.”
“You don’t have to use,” I say gently. “You have a choice.”
Sudden quiet slices the bar into a billion little pieces.
Beckett shakes his head, and then he tells me, “That’s easy for you to say.”
I bristle, hurt gripping my insides. “What does that mean?”
He’s blunt and honest, and I don’t expect Beckett to hold back—but he does this time. He just keeps shaking his head.
I’m not an idiot.
I clutch the table and careen forward to be closer to him. “You think I have no room to talk because I’ve never strived for anything like you? Because I have no talents and no ambition like you?”
His reddened eyes lift to mine. “I give everything to ballet. My time, my body, my life. What have you ever given to something you’ve loved?”
“I’ve given all of myself to my family,” I retort, tears burning my eyes. I’m the older sister. I carry the torch that lights the way, and if I drop it, no one behind me can see. “And I don’t care if you can’t see that—but there is a reason you never told your best friend you use.” I turn in my chair.
Sulli is already approaching the booth. Disappointment all over her face. “What the fuck, Beckett. How long?”
He looks pained. “It’s not a big deal—”
“You’re using drugs!” Her eyes bug. “We said we’d never take the easy out and use performance enhancers!”
“Ballet is different than swimming.”
“Fuck that,” Sulli cringes. “Jane is right. You didn’t tell me because I’m the one person who chose a sport over a childhood and I’m the one person who can tell you fuck your excuses.”
Beckett shoots to his feet. “What about you? The second you retire from swimming you’re all of a sudden drinking alcohol and passing out—at least I’m not pointlessly destroying my body.”
I wince.
“Cold, brother,” Eliot says sadly.
Sulli grits her teeth. “Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you,
” Beckett snaps.
We did not plan for a friendship to blow to smithereens tonight. I spring to my feet. Thatcher stands, and Maximoff is already at Sulli’s side, ushering her backwards while I talk to Beckett and repeat the same ultimatum.
Beckett holds out his hands like he’s at gunpoint. “If I leave, the company will replace me in Cinderella with Leo. He’s already being called the blond version of me.” Leo Valavanis is the same age, same height, same build, and same costume measurements as Beckett, and he’s also another male principal dancer. Unfortunately, their rivalry in the company has created good buzz for the ballet.
“You can stay in Cinderella,” I remind him. “Just stop using.”
Beckett massages his palm. “And if I don’t? You can’t force me on a plane.”
I quirk my brow. “I’m your big sister. I can do anything.”
He takes a few tense breaths, still on his feet.
Charlie rises, leaning his weight on a cane. “What have you learned, children?” This is a classic Cobalt word game.
