Page 26 of Dance Practice, Marooned: Part 2

“When we turned eighteen, we wanted somethin’ different for ourselves. So we started fighting. We were good at it. I had the determination to win, but he had the crazy for it. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but that fucker wouldn’t stay down. He would get knocked down, over and over again, and he would get back up. He was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. A wild streak that was unbeatable.”

Oh my.

“We did good, started gettin’ noticed. Eventually, we ended up opening our own underground ring. That grew and we became big names. Hired other fighters, made money and things were finally looking up.”

I know there is a huge ‘until’ coming.

“Until he got hooked on drugs. Started small, just somethin’ to give him energy, to enhance his skills, but then it got worse. Slowly, he spiralled. He got tangled up in some bad shit. Bad fuckin’ shit. Bad people. You name it. I kept bailin’ him out, and fightin’ to try and keep the money coming in. Then, one night, he was fightin’ another guy, young, maybe twenty, and he hit him so fuckin’ hard...”

His voice trails off.

I put the brush down, clenching my fists because I want to reach for him, but I won’t.

This is his moment.

“He killed him. Don’t get me wrong, underground clubs, death happens. Hell, some of them fight to the death. It’s illegal and it’s dangerous. That wasn’t our club, though. That wasn’t the kind of fighting I was workin’ for, sacrificin’ myself for. Turns out, kid wasn’t meant to be there. Turns out, kid was from a wealthy fucking family. They came in hard, and they didn’t back down. Cops, investigators, you name it. It fucked everything we had worked for. Everything I had put my entire life into, was gone. My brother ran, just fuckin’ bailed. Not only did he have a family wanting him locked up, but a bad fuckin’ drug runner wantin’ blood.”

This feels like something from a book or movie, like it couldn’t possibly be real. Like surely real life isn’t this crazy, right?

“Things just fuckin’ went so bad. We went from havin’ money to absolutely fuckin’ nothing and we had cops breathin’ down our throats. They wanted us locked away, had for a long time, and they wanted that club closed down. One night, was sittin’ at the bar, seriously considerin’ just disappearin’ myself, wonderin’ where Cash was. This businessman sat beside me, he told me he knew who I was, and he had somethin’ he wanted me to do. If I did it, he would make all the problems in my club disappear. Then, he told me somethin’ else... he knew where Cash was.”

I close my eyes, inhaling through my nose and holding it for a second before exhaling. “It was my father, wasn’t it?”

He nods.

“Showed me proof. He had a video of Cash, taken a few days before. Fighting. Wouldn’t tell me where, but it was him. He looked fucked up. But it was him. He told me he had an in with the cops, he could get it all to disappear if I helped him out.”

My heart feels like it is twisting out of my chest. My stomach drops and a horrible pain washes through me. A mix of betrayal, hurt, anger and just sorrow. Sorrow that my father did this. That fact is one that might never sink in how it should. Will it hurt for the rest of my life? Probably. Because he is my father, and regardless of anything, he was meant to be the one person in this world who protected me.

“I can stop,” Ace says, his eyes focused on my expression, his own so intense that it makes my heart skip a beat.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No, I want to hear it. I want to know why, Ace. Not just why you did it, but why he did it. Do you...”

“Know why he wanted to sell you?”

I nod, my eyes burning.

“It wasn’t personal,” he starts, then his jaw tightens and he shakes his head. “Actually, you know what, fuck that. I’m not going to say a single nice thing about that fucker. It was personal, because you’re his fuckin’ daughter and he absolutely could have found another way.”

A tear breaks free, but I do nothing to stop it. Ace notices it, but I shake my head. I don’t want his comfort, I just want to know everything. All of it. He nods and continues.

“Your father was workin’ with some big, dangerous people. Good for me, because he had a way of getting me out of the shit I was in, and bringing my brother home, but for you... it was the raw end of the deal. He got himself into some trouble with someone far bigger than he is. I don’t know much, but I do know that he was laundering money for a big criminal organisation through his business. The stupid mother fucker started stealin’ from them. Clever, if he hadn’t gotten caught, but he did. And they wanted payment, or his fuckin’ life.”

“And we both know his life is worth more to him than anything else,” I whisper.

Ace nods, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “He got given a choice. Get the money back or die. But they didn’t just want payment, they wanted a payment of their choosing. They had a buyer, who wanted dancers. A particular kind.”

I close my eyes, more tears fall. “Elite dancers,” I say, my head dropped. “The best of the best.”

I lift my head and his eyes lock on mine for a long, long moment. “You five were the best. He knew it. They knew it. He owns your studio, and a heap of others. Everything he is, is tied up in those studios, in all the businesses he runs. So, he agreed. His daughter and four other elite dancers, for a clean break. They would get their money, and he would walk free.”

“But that pathetic, useless waste of space wasn’t willing to look me in the fucking eye and deliver me himself. So, he got you to do it.”

Ace jerks his chin. “He knew the best way to make it look like an accident or a disappearance was to say he was sending you all on a vacation.”

“What was his plan? To say our boat got fucking overtaken by pirates? Like, come on.”

Ace grunts. “He never told me what his plan was. Just told me where to deliver, and not to ask questions. My guess is that’s why no one has come looking. Safer for him to say the yacht went down and everyone died, than to admit to the world why it wasn’t where it was supposed to be, or better yet, to the people wantin’ their money, why you weren’t delivered.”