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Chapter Thirty Six
Blair
The guys leave early the next day. Cyrus looks really serious for once, almost concerned. I feel sorry for whoever he’s going for. Luckily, I’m not one of those girls who feels the need to be with them all the time, so after waving them off, I head upstairs to get ready for work. When I get back into my room, I spot a drawing on my pillow and can’t help but smile, wondering what Asher has left me now.
I pick up the paper delicately, ready to place it in the box next to my bed with the others he has given me, but when I see the strong black ink lines, I freeze. Staring back at me isn’t my own face, or even someone we know—or he knows, I should say.
No, it’s Lucas.
Throwing the paper down like it burned me, I stumble away with my hand over my mouth. I try to breathe, to rationalise it. I don’t know how he got a photo of him to work on, but he captured Lucas’s likeness perfectly, right down to his crooked smile, simmering eyes, and wild hair. Maybe he thought he was being nice? That seeing him again would help me? But it doesn’t, all it does is bring back memories. They crowd my head, screaming for attention. I can almost taste my sweat dripping down my lip and feel the dried blood flecks covering my arms and face as I scream for help.
I can smell the hay, the shit, the decay…
Fuck.
“Red, blue, green,” I chant over and over.
It doesn’t work. I can still feel the blood dripping through my fingers as I cradle his lifeless, cooling body, begging for someone to save us—but I know they don’t. I’m alone, and he’s dead. They all are. Because of me.
Because of him.
Spinning, I spot the drawing again, and I can’t stop myself from ripping up the harsh lines. Asher drew him so angrily, why? That’s not his normal style. But as I shred it, my eyes wet with tears, I can’t seem to care. I finally calm down when it’s in tiny pieces, but it’s still not enough, the memories are still there, so I rush to get ready, to run away from the drawing and the memories it stirred—to run to work and try to forget in the music.
When I get there, I keep my head ducked, only nodding at the other dancers, including Lexi and Allegra who watch me worriedly, but before they can corner me, I move to the stage. When the music starts, I step onto the glossy stage and finally relax. Finally let go. With each twist, turn, and show move, my shoulders loosen as I let go. No past, no present, no future.
Only the sound of the thrumming beat.
One dance turns into the next. Lexi sings, but her eyes return to me continually as if she knows something is wrong. There’s a promise in her eyes that she will find out later. She’s a nice girl, and I really like her, but she’s too innocent for my life. She would look at me differently. Allegra might not. I sense the same pain in her heart that I harbour in mine, but Lexi? She’s just too damn sweet to mark her with my trauma.
I turn away, dancing around her as her sultry voice ensnares the crowd. I know the feeling. The first time I heard her, I could have sworn she wove a magical spell around me.
She’s just that good.
After her song, I duck back through to the dressing room, grabbing some shoes before heading to the bar to escape her and Allegra’s impending unstoppable questions. I don’t normally, but I grab a shot and toss it back, ignoring the music and the patrons around me.
“You are quite the dancer,” comes a low chuckle from next to me.
“Thanks.” I nod without looking, gesturing for another. The bartender gives me a narrow-eyed look but refills it, and I throw it back before turning my shot glass over to let him know I’m done. I’m turning to return to work when a hand lands on my arm.
“I mean it, very talented.”
I’m just about to hand this insistent asshole his ass when his next words stop me.
“I can see why Crew is so obsessed with you.”
“What did you say?” I snap, yanking my arm away and finally meeting his eyes. His brown hair is tied at the nape of his neck, which is covered in tattoos. He has a cross under his right squinty eye and a lip ring. He’s tall, probably the same height as Bray but skinnier, and he’s wearing an oil-stained white t-shirt and some sagging jeans tucked into scuffed black boots. I see more tattoos under his shirt, and I know instantly he’s bad news—not to mention the three men standing silently behind him. One of them is very tall but slouching with his hands in his pockets, and I can see the gun tucked under the waistband of his leather jacket. His face is squat and empty. The one next to him is skinnier and watching me with uncontrolled lust, and his eyes dart everywhere at once. The other just gives me the creeps as he stares into my soul.
“I said I see why they all have their dicks hard for the new dancer chick, why it’s making them stupid. Can’t say I blame them.” His voice drags my attention back to the talker just in time to see his tongue run over his teeth. “Gotta say, I might have to try you before we ruin you.”
“What do you want?” I demand, not willing to play games. How dare they come to my place of work? And Crew? Who are these assholes? Clearly not friends, which means enemies. I can imagine they would make some, since they aren’t exactly the friendly drug dealing types.
“Your boyfriends.” He laughs. “But you’ll do to send a message.” He reaches for me again, and I twist my hand, smacking his away with a glare.
“Touch me one more time and I’ll kill you myself,” I snap, making them all laugh as they circle me. I see Allegra watching me, but I shake my head, letting her know I’m okay.
“Oh, Darling, I’d like to see you try,” he taunts.
I don’t know if it’s the use of the guys’ nickname for me or what, but I lose it.
