Page 126 of Barinov

“A scene?” I ask, my grin growing wider.

“Don’t know how y’all deal with him. I’ve about cold clocked that fucker twice now,” he says, slapping my leg. “Get up.”

I shake my head and push to my feet. The sling tugs at my shoulder as I stand. I grunt, rolling it once hoping that’ll magically fix it. This stupid thing feels like a neon sign that says little bitch. I adjust it as I sit back down.

Then adjust it again.

I hate it.

The bass kicks in through the speakers and the arena lights dim.

“Alright, Wexley,” Knox’s voice rolls over the gym. “Tonight’s halftime show is going to be a little bit different.”

He moves some dials and a burgundy hue fills the gym.

“We dedicate tonight to the girl at the center of all of this. The one we’re missing. The one fighting her way back.”

Knox glances over at me and Cade, a faint smile forming at his lips. “But tonight’s not just for Bella,” he says, clearing his throat. “Tonight’s also for the family she created. For those fighting like hell to bring her back to us.”

Cade reaches over and slides his fingers into mine.

The first notes of “Fighter” by Christina Aguilera cracks through the speakers. The girls stand still for one breath in their flared, black glittering pants. Burgundy rhinestones on black crop tops spelling LEGACY.

They break into beautiful moves that are controlled, lethal, and sinfully sexy in a way that only Javi’s dramatic ass can seem to choreograph. When the first chorus hits, the Legacy girls grab the hems of their tops and rip. Fabric tears away in perfect sync, revealing cherry red tops with BLACKWOOD in bold, black rhinestones plastered across their chests.

“Oh my God,” Cade whispers.

Ellie and Haley step forward and rip theirs off too. But instead of Blackwood, Ellie’s says WHITMORE.

And Haley… hers says BARINOV.

My hand tightens in Cade’s as my eyes begin to sting.

Briggs elbows me. “Thought you’d get a kick out of that.”

I don’t answer, because I fucking can’t. Because for the first time since Bella got ripped away from us, I don’t feel like smashing something. I don’t feel like breaking someone. I feel hope. It’s small, fragile, and stupid as hell.

But it’s there.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I let go of Cade’s hand long enough to pull it out, laughing when I see the name.

RICO: Am I seeing this right? Is the rough and tough Lex Barinov tearing up over one of my little designs?

I glance up. Rico is standing by the DJ booth in black tailored trousers and a silk burgundy button-down half undone at the collar, gold chain catching in the light. He smirks at me like he planned this emotional ambush on purpose.

ME: Don’t get hard over it.

RICO: I knew you needed the kick in the ass to get you back on your feet. It’s what she would have wanted.

ME: Thank you. I mean it.

He bows dramatically.

The girls finish their number and start to scatter when Knox’s voice cuts back in, hype-mode fully activated.

“Ellie, don’t you dare move, sweetheart.”

She freezes mid-step.