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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years ago

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Nightshade

Chapter 12 | Chapter 14

Chapter 13: Pas de Deux

TW: I know nothing about dancing, this chapter is flashback heavy, so there are lots of painful and kind of intense memories, panic attacks, depictions of violence, references to past drug use, mentions of abuse and neglect, Lena's mom sucks, Olive's the worst, Simone's just as bad as always, some classic hurt & comfort vibes, loving siblings, the emotions in this chapter are intense, and another slight cliffie to send y'all to the grave! Y'all know the drill. I edited this quick, so there might be some mistakes!

“One two three, one two three, one two three.” I mouthed the words with her as I meticulously molded my body into the correct positions with the rest of the group. My mother's stick slapped hard against my wrist. “Keep your hands soft, Lena.”

Soft hands, I repeated to myself, blinking through the sting of pain and softening my upper body. Be like a leaf in a gentle breeze, soft, light, and graceful. The boy next to me snorted back, laughter catching my glare. He was my age, maybe a year or two older, with curly blonde hair and bright amber-brown eyes that sparkled in the light reflecting in the mirrors. He was handsome, but his smile truly drew me in. Wide and unhidden as he chuckled again, meeting my harsh glare with soft eyes. “Tes cheveux ressemblent à du feu.”

“What?” I asked, still struggling with my French.

“Your hair,” he pointed at the bright red locks. “It looks like fire.”

Self-consciously I smoothed my hands over my head, pulling the loose strands away from my face. “I guess.”

The boy smiled. “I like it.”

I laughed nervously at his comment, not used to anyone complimenting me on my hair or, well, anything. “Thanks.”

He held his hand out. “I am François.”

I took it reluctantly. “I’m Lena.”

“Leeennnaaa,” he dragged out with a brilliant smile. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

My face burned as I turned away from him with a fraction of a smile. “I’d say I’m pretty average looking.”

François made a noise as he scooted closer to me. “Nonsense! Do you know how many people I’ve met that are average looking? Hundreds. You are not average in any sense, I would guess.”

Mother's stick slapped down onto his shoulder, but to my surprise, he merely exhaled a sharp breath and smiled wider. “Apologies, Mistress Glover.”

She gave me a stern look, her lips thinning into that familiar disappointed line. “Practice makes perfect. Tell me, how do you two intend to be perfect if you waste your time on idle chatting?”

“Perfection can be achieved in many ways," François replied. “It’s all a matter of what task you’re trying to perfect.”

“From now on, that task will be the routine. Am I clear?”

“Cristal, Maîtresse Gantier.” When she moved on, raising her stick to strike another student, François chuckled, nudging me with his shoulder. “She is a bit of a tight ass, no?”

I couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled out of my throat. “My mother is a woman of a singular focus.”

“Ta mère?” He sighed. “I apologize for my crudeness, Mademoiselle Glover. I did not realize the shrew - Mistress was your mother.”

“It’s Harrow. Lena Harrow. I have my father's last name.” I smiled at him. “And it’s alright. The… shrew can be rather intense.”

He laughed, warm and bright and full of life. The sound sent a wave of something odd through me… it made me feel happy just hearing it. “Will you dance with me, oiseau de feu?”

“Oiseau de feu?” I repeated with furrowed brows, looking over at the half-finished poster. L'Oiseau de feu. “Like the show?”

“Oui, I assume you are playing the Firebird?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“This is good! For I am the mighty Prince Ivan!” François spun away, stopping to offer me his hand. “Now, dance with me mon précieux oiseau de feu!”

I wanted to dance for the first time since my mother began teaching me ballet. Taking his hand and letting him spin me into the intricate movements I’d been practicing night and day for months felt fun. Being part of the show no longer felt like a crushing weight on my back but rather a chance to dance with François, the boy that thought I was beautiful just as I was, even with the bumps and scrapes and bruises and blinding red hair. For the first time in my life, I felt seen and appreciated. For the first time, I cherished the nickname he’d given me and wanted to hear him call me it again. His Precious Firebird.

My body hummed with a lingering feeling of peace and a minor stiffness in my neck that slowly eased me into waking. When my heavy lids opened to the unfamiliar room, my heart stopped. Blinking slowly, I instantly took note of the hotel furniture and the impersonal paintings on the walls, and pure terror filled my gut. No. I let out a choked breath trying to move… to find a way out of here, but a weight settled across my waist and stopped me. My hand slid down, feeling across the back of the hand that had settled beneath my breasts. Soft skin, unmarred by the scar, I knew the man I feared had.

In the distance, I heard the soft voices of Quinn and Ari as they walked down the hall together, and the previous night came flooding back to me with a deep breath of relief filling my lungs. I was safe. My palm flattened against the back of his hand. Jake. Tears stung my eyes, and my lips quivered as I relaxed into the stiff mattress, too soft pillows and against Jake’s chest. His body was curled around mine, the arm tightly keeping me against him as he snored softly.

As soon as I settled, he began to stir, making soft noises of sleep, burying his head in my hair, and rubbing his nose against my ear. The erratic and near-painful pounding of my heart in my chest slowed. I drifted back to sleep, surrounded by his cologne and smoke. Safe.

I had no idea how long I slept, nor did I particularly care as I slowly woke to Jake's thumb smoothing along my skin as his hand flattened against my chest. Surprisingly he didn't utilize the position of his hand beneath my shirt to touch my boobs. Instead, his hand stayed firmly in place, gently rubbing my skin as he breathed deeply, face still buried in my hair. I smiled, remembering his confession about the way I smelled. "At this point, I should just buy you the perfume I use."

His chuckle shook the bed as he moved his lips to my ear. "It wouldn't smell nearly as good as you do."

"That's creepy," I teased. "You gonna cook me up and eat me?"

"I'm a shit cook," he replied. "I'll have Scott do it."

"Scott would tell you to fuck off."

Jake laughed, nodding his heart slightly. "Probably."

I stretched, pushing back into him slightly and cherishing the low groan that rumbled from his chest as my ass ground back into his morning wood. “Fuck.”

Smirking at him over my shoulder, I bit back a chuckle. “Sorry.”

“Yeah right,” he breathed out, pulling his hand from beneath my shirt and moving to allow me to roll onto my back. “You just like riling me up.”

“In my defense, you are really easy to get riled up,” I answered. “Which is ironic considering how you claim to be so good at this kind of thing.”

Jake tilted his head and raised a brow. “Was last night not enough of a demonstration for you?”

“It was… informative.”

“Informative?” He scoffed. “I think the word you’re thinking of is mindblowing.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think that’d be overselling it a bit.”

The blue in his eyes was darker than usual as he moved to hover over me. "Do you want some more attention, princess?"

"Depends. What kind of attention will I get this time?"

Jake was quick to offer up both a physical and verbal reply. His thumb brushed over my nipple, gently working the small bud until it was perked between his fingers. "I had quite the dream last night. My head, between your thighs, edging you until you were shaking… Begging for me to fuck you."

I tried to hide how his words affected me, but between his deep, sensual voice and his fingers rolling and pulling at my nipple, it was impossible to hold in the sharp gasp of blissful anticipation. "That doesn't sound like something I'd do."

He chuckled, face dipping lower until his lips caressed mine. "I enjoy a good challenge."

"Wakey, wakey!" Sasha's voice was louder than the door's slam hitting the wall. Jake and I stirred quickly, grumbling and glaring at him as he skipped into the room and hopped onto the bed. He pulled at the covers, trying to peek beneath them. "I see you are both still dressed!"

"Sasha fuck off!" Jake growled, grabbing a pillow from his side of the bed and hitting the Russian with it.

He giggled, sliding off the bed to kneel next to me. "Oohh, so grumpy! Sorry, dear Jakey, you had your chance to get your little cock wet last month. Now I need to keep you two celibate until after Halloween!"

“Why the sudden change of heart?” I asked.

“Because I don’t want those smug little cunts to win a cent.” Sasah grinned ear to ear. “You understand, don’t you, Tiger?”

Shoving his face away from me, I sat up next to Jake, who glared at the Russian lying on the floor. "Think I'm with grumpy on this one."

"Very well," Sasha humphed. "Strip yourselves and attack each other. I will watch!" Jake rolled his eyes and stood, picking the Russian up and ushering him toward the door. Sasha giggled in delight, eyes staring at Jake's crotch. "Oh, she did get you excited!"

The door slammed in Sasha's face, and Jake sighed, seeing one up and out of bed. I smiled, toying with the chain around his neck. "I think we'll have to explore your wet dream later. Raincheck?"

"I'll hold you to it."

"Aww, are you feeling riled up, pretty boy?" I taunted.

He grinned, pulling me in close, grinding himself against my hip. "Keep the jokes coming, princess. I'll remember each one when I'm edging you."

"I enjoy a challenge."

After showering, I bribed Prue into sneaking me a turtleneck from Quinn's stash of clothes to hide the area of discolored hickeys that covered my neck and chest. I knew it would still be obvious to everyone, but I decided to try to preserve some sense of privacy as I joined the others downstairs. Ari grinned wide. "I know what that outfit means. Let me see!"

I smacked her hands away, effectively twisting out of Quinn's reach. "You two are obsessed!"

When Jake finally finished showering and joined us, clothed in his usual t-shirt, jeans, and leather jacket, the group practically jumped on top of him. “Morning, Jakey!”

“Morning,” he grumbled.

“I see some claw marks,” Ari purred, wiggling her eyebrows at Jake. “Did you two finally light a fire with all that sexual tension?”

Sasha threw his arm around Jake’s shoulder with a smug smile. “No, they did not! I made sure of it!”

Ari shook her head. “You can’t seriously think you’ll be able to stop these two from doing it all the way til Halloween.”

“I can, and I will!” He insisted. “Laws of attraction.”

She rolled her eyes, groaning as she returned to Quinn's side. “Not this shit again.”

“Did you sleep okay, Lena?” Prue asked from where she and Will sat, curled into each other on the couch.

I blushed a bit and shrugged, both signing and saying, “I had some trouble at first, but yeah… I slept pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Jake asked with a smirk. “By the way, you were… snoring I’d say it was more than just pretty good.”

“It could have been better.” I shrugged.

Quinn sipped her coffee and sighed. “We’re not stupid. We know you two are talking about whatever sexual favors you exchanged last night.”

Before I could offer up any argument, all our phones buzzed. Will sighed. “That can’t be good.”

Change of plans this morning. Meet outside the restaurant, and dress for a field trip. - Howard.

“Another field trip?” Ari whined.

I glanced at everyone’s slightly sullen faces. “What’s going on?”

Jake shook his head, taking a quick bite of a small muffin. “Howard’s gone off the rails again.”

“Well, let's go see what he has in store this time,” Scott groaned.

Heather made a face and shook her head. “God, I hope it’s not a pig again.”

I squinted at Jake as we followed the group to the elevator. Ari and Will hung back to give their partners goodbye kisses. “You guys went on a field trip to see a pig?”

“It was more to watch a pig bleed out,” he explained. “Definitely one of Howard's more fucked up changes.”

“Holy shit. Glad I wasn’t there for that.”

Ari laughed. “Well, the one upside to that morning was getting to hear Will’s gag scream.”

Will shook her hands off him. “I told you I was probably allergic to the hay or something.”

“Yeah, okay,” Heather replied.

Sasha shook his head. “I am still upset Howard chose the one morning I wasn’t going to be there to traumatize everyone.”

"You still gotta have fun after running around with the feet." Will noted.

"God you guys are disgusting," Scott complained.

22West was blocked from view by a large bus when we arrived. Howard and the others stood on the sidewalk, speaking quietly among themselves. Simone smiled, waving Jake to her side to quietly speak with him. Howard greeted everyone with a smile. "Good morning, Changelings."

"Morning Howard," we replied.

"Today is a special day. A very moving and beautiful new show is opening to the public. Tonight we'll be having many dining with us that are well-versed in this field, and so the owner and I agree that a trip to the ballet is in everyone's best interest."

Our eyes locked, and the pitiful look lingering on his face told me that my fear was rightly placed. My breath caught in my throat, bringing an aching burn to my chest as I looked away. The noise surrounding me blurred together as I boarded the bus, sitting in the very back and staring out the window. From a few rows up, sitting beside Simone, Jake turned and looked back at me a few times. The concern in his eyes only made me feel more anxious about this field trip, and the constant talking from our coworkers didn’t help.

They'd all been horrified at the sight of a pig being led to slaughter; little did they know they were doing it again. The only difference was I was the pig, and whatever my mother had in store was the blade she'd intended to bleed me dry with. I knew the road to the theatre by heart. Every bump and every stop. When the large courtyard came into view with the majestic fountain covering up the words hanging over the door of the boxy building with large windows.

Everyone else was eager to get off the crowded bus, leaving me to slowly make my way to the front, where Howard waited for me. He offered up his hand, a friendly gesture meant to be an olive branch between us, but I walked past him, not even entertaining the thought of forgiveness. Jake stayed close to Simone but seemed to walk slowly as if wanting to wait for me to get off the bus before he committed to following everyone else inside.

The soft echoes of classical music swept through the lobby as the staff greeted us sweetly. The memories of this place… the faint voice that scolded over the music… it all brought me to a halt. I would have turned and run if it weren’t for Howard's hand on my back, silently urging me to keep moving forward. Anger crawled up my spine as I shoved away from his touch. Fucking coward. Striding forward with my head high, I followed the group as the staff ushered them through the doors and into the darkened theatre.

A host of dancers occupied the stage, dressed in simple practice tights as they leaped and spun through mothers quick movements. “One, two, three. One, two, three,” Her voice sent a cold chill straight into my veins as we filed loosely into the seats and watched the remainder of their routine. Once the dancers relaxed, lightly stretching out their stiff limbs, mother clapped. “Perfection! Absolute perfection, my little dancers! Tonight is going to be a glorious opening, all thanks to you.”

“Ms. Glover,” a smaller, familiar voice called to her from the crowd. Olive stood next to the stage, looking up at my mother with a smile. “The 22West party has arrived.”

“Thank you, Olivia.” My hands tingled as reality settled into my brain. All this time… Olive had never been just another hire. I turned and looked at Howard, who now refused to meet my gaze. All this time, she’d been working for my mother. What was her goal? To sabotage me and force me to come crawling back to her?

“Of course, Ms. Glover,” she replied, eyes meeting mine for a moment, flashing with envy and deep-rooted anger that stretched far beyond some half-assed mission to keep tabs on me.

My mother looked the same, her long half-curled blonde hair neatly pulled back into an elegant ponytail with her red stained lips curved into a smile I now knew was fake. “Lena,” she purred. “It is so good to see you, little one.”

From my seat, I continued to glare. “What do you want?”

“So forward,” she laughed. “As always.”

“We can do the back and forth if you really want to,” I offered coldly. “But something tells me you have no interest in looking bad in front of all these people.”

She shook her head and spread her arms wide. “Welcome to our humble theatre. My sister, your boss, has told me so much about all of you. As has my assistant, whom you’ve met. Olivia, please introduce yourself properly.”

The girl turned and smiled at everyone, no longer the meek little thing she’d been posing as. “Hello. So sorry for the deception, but my employer was worried if she reached out to her… daughter… directly, things would get unnecessarily complicated.” I bit my lip to keep in the loud scoff as she set her hand against her chest, eyes locking on Jake. “I’m Oliva, and it’s been an honor to work beside all of you.”

“This is creep city,” Sasha whispered somewhere in the crowd.

“Simone,” mother said softly as she smiled down into the crowd. “It is so lovely to finally have a face to imagine after all these months of speaking. I’m glad you could make it.”

The blonde-haired woman cleared her throat and chuckled, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder as he looked at her with confused eyes. At least that meant he had no idea that this was going to happen. “It is an honor to finally meet you, Jen.”

Refocusing on me, mother tilted her head to the side. “I’m not a monster, Lena. Despite what you’ve chosen to believe.”

“What. Do. You. Want.” I ground out.

“My dancers have been working so hard to perfect this piece. I fear the Pas de Deux is falling a bit short.” Gesturing to the side where Olive now held a small set of practice clothes, she continued, “I was hoping you would be able to show them how it’s done.”

"I'm the last person you want on that stage, and we both know it," I replied, glaring at her.

Mother scoffed. "Nonsense! Out of everyone in this room, you, little one, are the only one capable of showing these children how it's done." Her smile was just as cold as I'd remembered it. "After all, you excelled at the dance for two. Though, I suppose, that very well could have been your partner's talent."

My hands curled into the arms of my seat at the low and effective blow. "Or maybe it was the relentless beatings encouraging me to remember the steps."

"Come, Lena. Dance."

I could see the finality of it in her eyes as she stared me down. She wasn’t going to let this go, and knowing her, she was prepared to drag this out… to keep everyone here until I complied with her command. With one deep breath out through my nose, I stood, walked to Olive’s side and grabbed the clothes out of her hands, and headed to the bathroom to change into one of the spare practice tights and pre-distressed shoes.

The stage was silent when I returned, save the gossiping whispers of my coworkers, who were now cast in darkness as the stage lights blinded me. I stood in front of my mother and shrugged. “What piece?”

“One you are more than familiar with.” I knew then and there exactly what her hope was. Pain. “Demetri,” she called the tall boy forward. “You’ll be dancing with her. Focus on the feel of the dance, not just the steps but the emotion behind the piece.”

The soft tune of Swan Lake’s “Love Duet” filled the theatre, and I felt my heart stop beating for a moment. Her cruelty knew no bounds as I carefully placed myself in the correct position and played along with her game. Demetri’s hand took mine, and a cold wave of remorse and a deep feeling of betrayal filled my lungs as he pulled me up into the dance for two François and I never got to have. We moved well together, my body remembering every step and every formation of its own accord despite not having practiced for almost two months. The sting of pain that settled in my toes was worse than it would have been if I’d kept practicing, but right now, I didn’t care.

Demetri dipped me back, carefully contorting my spine. The lights made me feel dizzy as they swirled in my vision, and as I was pulled back up, I was suddenly thirteen again. And the stranger that had dipped me wasn't a stranger anymore, but rather the wild fourteen-year-old boy whose smile filled my world with sunlight. He grinned at me, pulling me in close with a wink. "Don't worry, Précieuse. I won't let you mess up."

I breathed a sigh of relief, melting into his arms and letting him guide me through the steps. "François."

He smiled wider. "Hold onto me, my firebird, and feel the dance!"

“I’m a swan now,” I corrected him.

“A flaming swan,” he chuckled. “What imagery!”

The light curls on his head bounced as he twisted and twirled, lifting me high into the air and never faltering. His sunlight was the only thing that seemed to break through the storm clouds that were my mother and her stick. François was good, far better than I deserved, yet he chose me to dance with every day, even after our roles were gone. A weight lifted off my shoulders as we moved together in our new Pas de Deux.

We danced through the entire routine before the face in front of mine shifted back. A stranger stared back at me. Brown hair and face void of all laughter and smiling. Not, François. Tears filled my eyes as the two of us turned and bowed to the now-clapping crowd. I could feel my hands shaking, could feel the heavy breaths I drew inward, but I had no way of stopping it. All I could focus on was not letting the tears in my eyes fall.

Mother didn’t clap as she dismissed Demetri with a wave. “That was sloppy.” There it is. “You were far too stiff, and your limbs to flimsy.”

“Well, sadly, we don’t have access to a boat,” I told her. “So you’ll have to think of some other way to punish me for my laziness.”

Shaking her head, she sighed. “I am so disappointed. All the work we did, all the years we spent perfecting you… wasted.”

Grinding my teeth together, I shrugged, trying to remain unphased by her words. “This is the life I’ve chosen for myself.”

“Life?” She hissed in French. “These tattoos and the lowly position in that damn restaurant is hardly a life.” Taking a step forward, she brushed my hair away from my neck, examining the hickeys Jake had left there only an hour or so ago with a tight look. “All these years later, and you still insist on parading yourself around this city like some common whore. What would Anthony think?”

“He can choke on his opinions,” I sneered back.

The slap was something I saw coming, but judging by the sharp gasps that filled the darkened crowd, my coworkers hadn’t. “Don’t you dare insult him! That man offered you everything, and you threw it all away. Because of what? Some small bruises here and there?”

I straightened up, blinking away the tears. “We both know you’ll have to hit me a lot harder than that.”

“Such a child,” she whispered. “What would your father think if he could see you now?”

“He’d tell me to spit in your face and tell you to go to hell.” I breathed out a ragged breath. “And then he’d take me home, and we’d celebrate finally being rid of you.”

“Are you rid of me, little one?” She purred in French. “Or have you simply not realized how deeply you still need me?”

“I don’t regret leaving,” I told her firmly. “I never will.”

“We will see.”

Turning quickly, I started to head back toward the bathroom when the loud thumping of a cane striking the floor stopped me, and a head of curly blonde hair emerged from behind the curtains. François… He looked so different, older but no less handsome. His eyes watched me, sorrow and pain and everything left unspoken between us raging within them. The memory of that night hummed between us, a painful and powerful force that made me wish I’d never come here again.

Tony’s hand tightened painfully around mine, crushing my palms against the gun's metal. He kept his aim steady even as my hands shook uncontrollably. “Please don’t do this…” I sobbed, staring at François’ bleeding and swollen face as Tony’s men dragged him to his feet. “I’ll do anything! Please, Tony, just let him go!”

“It’s too late for all that, baby girl. Now it’s time to face the consequences of your actions.”

François groaned, “Bâtard.”

I could feel Tony’s smile against my ear. “Pull the trigger, Lena.”

Dread filled my gut with the strong urge to vomit. “N… No… I…”

Tony’s fingers forced mine over the trigger, slowly increasing the weight behind them and pushing my smaller, weaker fingers down on the trigger. “Pull. The. Trigger.”

“Please,” I begged him, tears nearly blinding me. “Please… I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Tony, I won’t do it again. I promise just-”

“PULL THE TRIGGER!”

I couldn’t fight him as he forced his finger down the rest of the way, and the trigger pulled back. The gunshot was louder than I thought it’d be, but the kick of the gun made me scream. I focused on the scarlet liquid covering the pavement as the two men holding François up let him fall. As the pained wails followed, his body hit the ground with a sickening sound. The blood poured from his knee, rushing through his fingers like rivers as he turned onto his back.

All I could do was stand there, in Tony’s too-tight grip, as François… my friend… the boy I thought the world of, cried out in pain. “This is what happens when you refuse my kindness, Lena. All of this… is your doing.”

He let go of me, letting me rush forward to kneel beside the wounded boy. “François!”

“My leg…” he cried out. “My… my leg…”

I pressed my hands to his knee, choking back sobs as his pained wails echoed around us. I tried to comfort him… tried to tell him everything would be alright, but I knew it was a lie. Finally, Tony clicked his tongue and kicked my leg. "Get up."

My heart hammered in my chest as my eyes clouded over with fat, blurry tears. "I… I…" I’m sorry. I wanted to offer up to console him. I love you. I wanted to admit out loud, at least once, before he…

"Don't leave me," he begged through his cries. "Do not leave me here, Précieuse."

With a scoff, Tony’s hand twisted in my hair. "I said get up!" The too-familiar sting of him pulling me by my roots exploded across my scalp as he tore me from the boy lying in his own blood. I cried out as he threw me against the red and white sports car parked at the mouth of the alley. My head cracked against the cold metal, vision swimming as I looked back.

"Précieuse…" He gasped, turned, and reached out toward me. "Lena, please!"

Tony shoved me into the passenger seat and quickly pulled out of the alleyway onto the busy road. The city lights bled together, distorted in the falling drops of rain. I looked down at my hands covered in blood - the blood of the boy I had grown to love and that I thought could somehow love me in return - and breathed out a sharp sob. "Shut up," Tony growled, throwing me a silk handkerchief. "Clean yourself up, and don't you dare puke in my car."

"Are… Are you going to kill him?" I stuttered, shakily following his command.

He laughed, a sound that brought a cold chill down my spine. "There are worse things than dying, baby girl. You'd best remember that the next time you wanna get friendly with idiot boys." His hand settled onto my thigh, squeezing so hard it hurt. "You belong to me, and it’d be in your best interest not to forget that again. We’re going home.”

Home. I thought of my father and brothers… Ozzy, Quinn, and even Dom. I want to go home, I admitted, as more tears streamed down my cheeks. But I couldn’t, and now that I was here… now that Tony had me, I knew deep in my gut that I wouldn’t see home or those I loved again.

My eyes fixed on the leg that I’d not seen since I visited him in the hospital after, and then I looked at the cane he held in a tight grip. “There are worse things than dying.” I bowed my head, offering him the only thing he’d ever asked of me as I shakily walked past him and out the door. Once I’d slid into the bathroom, the tears I’d held back began to fall. I settled against the wall, slowly dropping myself to the floor when the door opened.

Ari slid through the door, spotting me on the floor with furrowed brows and an understanding look. Without a word, she joined me, curling an arm around my side and pulling me into her embrace. “Let it all out, tiger.”

I sobbed into her shoulder, unleashing all the pain that the morning had unearthed from inside me. She and I weren’t the closest friends, but at that moment, I was thankful it had been her to find me. Ari understood what it felt like to have a parent like my mother, or at least she understood enough. As we sat beside one another until my tears stopped flowing, Ari ran her fingers through my hair and gently reassured me that I wasn’t alone.

“Thanks,” I whispered to her as we pulled apart, and I fixed myself in the mirror.

She set her chin on my shoulder and smiled sadly. “Fuck your mom.” With a quick kiss on my cheek, she turned to leave. “I’ll wait for you outside. We can sit together on the bus.”

True to her word Ari waited. She walked back to the bus with me, holding my hand as we slid through the tight aisle and sat near the back. Simone had taken the front seat, alone and looking stoic. Jake sat a row behind us with Heather, but his eyes were glued to me the whole ride back, and remained that way in the locker room while everyone quietly changed for the night of service ahead of us.

He waited until we were alone to turn, closing his locker as he did, and say, “I didn’t know Simone had been talking to your mom.”

“I know,” I assured him.

“Are you…” he stopped himself, likely realizing how asking me if I was okay was a stupid question. “What can I do?”

I closed my locker and turned to him. “You don’t have to do anything, Jake.”

“I want to help,” he admitted.

“You are helping. Just by being here… asking me this, you’re helping.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

I wrapped my arms around him, giving him a quick hug. “I know, but it is. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, princess.”

The night was shockingly calm as service came and went without a hitch. Before I knew it, I was gathering my things and telling Jake I’d meet him down by the bar. It was then when I was alone, that Howard cleared his throat and entered the locker room. “Lena…”

“Don’t.” I turned and glared at him. “I don’t want some half-assed apology, Howard. Especially not from you.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Lena.”

“Yes, you did. You could have said no.” I shook my head and scoffed. “Going to observe a ballet rehearsal has nothing to do with fine dining or our guests. You knew this was a fucking ploy to get me in the same room as her, and you did it anyway!” Moving to stand closer to him, I clenched my jaw. “You’re a weak, spineless, sniveling excuse for a man… a fucking coward.”

Each step I took down the stairs was filled with a cool-tempered need to run, to get as far from this city as I possibly could. I turned to the alley door, ignoring the familiar shouts of my name as Jake followed close behind me. Go, my body hummed. Run.

“Lena!” Jake called out, rushing to catch up to me and block me from leaving the alley.

"Get out of my way Jake."

"Just slow down for one minute," he breathed out, taking hold of my shoulders. "Fuck the cape. Remember?"

"Jake..." A weak noise tore through my throat. “I…”

His hands framed my face gently. "Hey, hey, look at me." I followed his quiet plea and looked into his eyes... Eyes so blue I thought for a moment I would drown in them. "Don't run. Stay." He pressed his forehead against mine. "Stay with me."

"And do what?" I cried. "Force you to sit in this pity party with me?"

"Come with me," he urged, taking my hand and carefully pulling me along. "Come on, princess, just indulge me."

We walked hand in hand a few blocks up to an old movie theatre, where Jake smiled down at my confused face and led me inside. “We’re going to a movie?”

He nodded. “You too good for the movies?”

“No, but I thought you’d find them childish.”

“It’s a good way to distract yourself,” he replied. “I used to go to the movies a lot when Simone lived in France.”

“She lived in France?” I asked. “Funny, I guess I just can’t imagine her outside of the restaurant.”

Jake shrugged. “She was miserable there, though she won’t admit it. It was a hard time for me… I needed to distract myself a lot.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, tonight is about distracting you. So, pick a movie.”

Staring at the posters advertising the movies they had, I hummed. “You pick.”

He grinned. “You sure? I don’t know if you’ll like what I choose.”

“I’m sure,” I insisted. “Surprise me, grump.”

“Okay, just remember you asked for it.”

The urgent desire to flee had simmered into a passing thought now as I watched Jake pay for the tickets and snacks. If Quinn saw us, she’d say this was a date. Which it wasn’t. This was two friends watching a movie. Jake nodded me toward the hallway leading back into the showing rooms and carefully took hold of my hand once we entered the darkened theatre. He led us all the way up the stairs to the very back of the room, moving through the aisle to get the perfect middle seats before he plopped down and got comfortable.

It was relatively empty, with one a few people scattered about the theatre watching the ads on the screen. “What did you choose?” I asked, leaning in close so he’d hear me.

“The Entrance. It’s some kind of demon horror film.”

“Oh,” I made a face which in turn made Jake chuckle.

“Told you.”

I rolled my eyes at him, settling back in my seat. “I’m fine with horror.”

He nodded. “Uh-huh, well, my hands always here if you need something to hold onto, princess.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

The film wasn’t anything too horrible, but I found myself leaning into Jake’s side, bringing my knees up to my chest with his leather jacket draped over me to give myself a discrete way to hide if I needed to. Jake knew, of course, but said nothing as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder when things got too intense. It was only when we were nearing the end of the film that I realized his plan had worked. The urge to run off to some nowhere town was gone, replaced by an anxious feeling that came with watching horror films and a warmth that came with Jake holding me.

I turned my head and looked up at him, admiring the way he watched the movie with a look of wonder. He noticed me staring and turned his head, lips quirking up into a smile. “What?”

“Thank you,” I whispered back. “For coming after me.”

“What else would I have done? We pinky swore.”

I shoved him with a hand to the chest. “I’m serious. I… I would have gone back if you hadn’t of thought of this. So, thanks.”

Jake held my hand to his chest and smiled. “You're welcome.”

The movie played as we stared at one another, overexaggerated screams and demonic noises filling the theatre, and yet all I could see was him as he leaned forward and dipped his head down to capture my lips. His jacket slid off my legs as I turned my body toward him, pushing back against him. It had felt like ages since we’d kissed when I knew it was only a few days prior. But god, his lips were far more addictive than any drug I’d had. They moved against mine, desperate and wanting, demanding me to meet his quick pace, and I did.

Jake’s hand slid up my arm and buried it in my hair while the other grabbed my thigh, pulling it into his lap. I groaned quietly, opening my mouth to his eager tongue. Both of us seemed content to ignore the end of the movie as we made out in the back row like two teenagers. It wasn’t until the lights turned on that we found it in ourselves to separate.

“You’ve never seen Ghostbusters?” I shrieked on the walk home.

“I haven’t,” he repeated. “Is that weird?”

“YES!” I laughed. “It’s a classic!”

Our shoulders brushed as we walked through the crowded sidewalks until my apartment came into view ahead of us. “You gonna invite me to stay the night?”

I looked up at him. “What makes you think I was gonna do that?”

"You kissed me back."

"So?" I offered him a half-nervous smirk. "I'm still not going to sleep with you."

Jake rolled his eyes. "No?"

"Nope."

"Why not?" He asked with a quirked brow. "We've done pretty much everything else."

I looked back out at the bright city lights ahead of us, the chilled breeze stinging my face. Before I could even think, I answered him, "Because the second I do all this ends. No more tag. No more sarcastic quips. No more walks home. No more Jake." The silence that followed felt like a punch to the gut, a feeling that spurred me into talking more. I bumped into him lightly. "Believe it or not, I like you. I don't wanna lose this."

Jake didn't reply for a while, and honestly, I didn't expect him to.. "So what you're saying is you like me too much to fuck me?"

I laughed, "I guess."

He bumped me back and quietly admitted, "I like you too." When I looked up at him, he smiled, tight and nervous. "I like you too much to fuck this up."

"So don't," I advised as we reached my apartment, where Ryker stood by the steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jake nodded to the biker, quickly noticing the others that stood across the street. “I’m guessing this guard detail is because of the rock?”

Scratching the back of my head, I nodded. “Yeah, Dom’s kind of overprotective.”

“Or he just knows how dangerous a freak with a rock can be.”

“Hey,” I touched his face softly. “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

He answered with a tight smile. “I’d hope so with six bikers on your block.”

My legs carried me up the stairs, waving to Ryker. “Hey, Ry.”

“Hey, Lee,” he replied.

I turned and smiled at Jake. “Goodnight, Jerky Jake.”

He shook his head, feigning annoyance. "Night, Lana.”

The next day was hell. The restaurant was flooded with guests who seemed to be in the worst mood. Everyone was scrambling, everyone but Simone and Olive. The two worked in perfect harmony, outshining everyone in the front room and gaining the guest's favor. It was infuriating. Each time I ran ice back to the bar or grabbed someone a bottle of wine, I saw their smug smiles and overly polite, fake tones. All this time, they’d been working together to try and get me so fed up I’d quit, and honestly, now that I knew, it felt so obvious.

How did I miss that? I asked myself. I used to be so observant when it came to threats like this. Jake smiled at me from behind the bar, and the answer to my unasked question had been clear. I’d been distracted. So much so that I missed the deception right in front of me. Still, I gave the night everything I had, running ice to the bar and cooking beside Scott, and washing dishes with Santos. No matter how much I did, I couldn’t shake the way Simone and Olive’s smug faces made me feel.

After shift drinks came like an answered prayer as I sat down beside Sasha and smiled at Jake. “What did you make me tonight?”

Sliding the glass of amber liquid to me, he smirked. “Just a simple Manhattan tonight.”

“With a cherry,” I said, plucking the small fruit out of my drink. “How thoughtful.”

Olive slid into the seat to my right, leaning over the bar to touch Jake's arm. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Jake gave me a quick look before he moved to gather the things he needed. “Something you needed, Olive?”

“I just wanted to sit with you.” She hummed. “It feels different than I thought it would.”

“I didn’t know sitting with someone was supposed to make you feel things.”

Olive examined her nails and shrugged. “I mean, you’re kind of a legend. Your mother raves about how talented you are.”

I took a long drink. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“She also talks at length about your laziness and poor attitude.”

“That sounds right.”

Olive’s face turned sour. “She loves you so much.”

“She’s not capable of loving anyone but herself,” I told her coldly.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Olive sneered. “You constantly insult your mother with this… sad excuse of a life. You tarnish the name of a man that gave you everything. It’s like you don’t understand how fucking lucky you are!”

My jaw clenched as the fire in my lungs grew uncontainable. I turned my head with a humorless laugh, ignoring Isaac’s desperate attempts to get my attention from across the bar. “Lucky? Is that what you think I am?”

Olive didn’t back down, something I might’ve respected if she’d not touched every last nerve. “I know that’s what you are.”

“Luck didn’t teach me to play the piano. I spent hours playing keys until my fingers bled. Luck didn’t magically make me memorize her dance moves. I stayed up for four days straight practicing until I had to peel off my fucking toenails.” I stood, towering over her, anger and pain, and everything I’d shoved so deep down inside me came pouring to the surface. “Luck didn’t keep me from drowning in the damn ocean. I did. And luck sure as fucking hell didn’t drag me half a block through the goddamn snow while I was bleeding out! I DID!” Everyone around us was perfectly still and silent. It felt like time had frozen for a split second, but I knew it didn’t. “You want her to love you? You want to be me so bad? Then why don’t you find a piano to play or wear a pair of those shoes you look at every day and dance? You want my life? Fucking take it!”

Her wide eyes watched me, shocked and slightly scared, but deep in them, a satisfied fascination gleamed. I shook my head and turned away from her, walking past the long line of staring faces until I practically threw myself out the back alley door. My heart beat wildly in my ears, filling me with the severe shortness of breath that made everything too much. I had to go. I had to get the hell out of here. The cold air bit my skin. The only relief from the burning that had consumed me.

I wanted not to feel this anymore. I wanted to feel nothing at all. With shaking hands, I pulled my phone out and quickly dialed the number I knew by heart. “Hey, it’s me. I need you.”

Jake had followed Lena after she stormed off. He’d called her name, but she didn’t hear him… or just chose not to respond. Fuck! He cursed himself. The group gossiped among themselves about the outburst of their beloved Tiger, but none of them knew what the fuck they were really talking about. His eyes were glued to Olive’s ugly dyed head where she sat next to Simone, whose lack of surprise at Olive’s true identity made his stomach churn. There were several moments where he had to bite his tongue when one of their friends said some hair-brained theory about Lena. He wouldn’t tell them anything, no matter how wild their theories got. He wasn’t going to betray her trust like that. Especially not while she was dealing with all this.

Olive departed without another word to anyone save the confident wink she sent his way. When Simone rose from her seat and quietly made her way to the locker room and for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself from following after her. “How did you know her mom?”

She turned and looked back at him, the expression on her face slightly exasperated but soft. “Jennifer Glover reached out to me a few months ago. She was worried about her daughter and asked me to keep an eye on her.”

“So you and Olive set this whole thing up?”

“Jake,” Simone cooed. “I was just trying to help. She’s been… stressed lately, and I thought-”

“You thought the woman that abused and neglected her would make that better somehow?”

Simone’s face hardened for a moment as she took in the new information. “I didn’t know about that. I swear. I thought you, of all people, would understand my intentions. There’s something about a mother's comfort that seems to solve a lot of problems. I thought it would apply here.”

Jake breathed out his anger and shook his head. “I do understand… I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Worried,” she finished for him. “You care for her.”

“Simone-”

Holding up her hand, she shook her head with a smile, pressing it to his chest. “You don’t need to explain it to me, Jake. I know you. And if she’s… important to you, then I’ll do my best to get along with her.”

Relief filled Jake’s chest as he leaned into her touch. “Thank you.”

“Try not to worry too much about her,” she advised. “Lena is a very independent girl. I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

Jake should have found comfort in her words, but he didn’t, couldn’t, not when he knew what Lena was feeling. Simone and the others left, and after Jake helped Nicky close things down, he set out for the one place he knew Lena would go to if she was still in the city. The others were already at Ozzy’s when he arrived, dancing and drinking and doing the things they always did. But, to his relief, Lena stood next to a table of her friends and family, wearing a crop top and short skirt with glitter in her hair.

He approached with an audible sigh of relief as she turned and smiled widely at him. “Jake!”

Lena stumbled toward him, a wave of alcohol sweeping over him and burning his nose as she pulled herself into his arms and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss. He could taste the rum on her tongue, mingling with several shots of fireball. When she pulled away and sagged against him, he shook his head. “Are you wasted right now?”

“No!” She snorted, nearly tipping them both over as her body swayed. Her eyes caught Sasha in the crowd, and just as suddenly as she’d come, she was gone.

Jake sat in the booth beside Quinn, who tipped her cup to him. “Welcome to babysitting duty!”

“How much has she had to drink?”

“Ask asshat,” Peter grumbled, looking at Patrick.

Patrick rolled his eyes and took a drink of his beer. “She calls I get her drunk. That’s the deal. It keeps her from relapsing, so I don’t see the big issue.”

Peter shook his head and pointed to the dance floor, where Lena moved with the crowd. “She’s not gonna let us take her home tonight. You know how she gets when she drinks this much.”

“I know,” Patrick nodded to Jake. “But now that he’s here, I doubt it’ll be an issue.”

Quinn laughed. “I mean, dick is one of drunk Lena’s main motivators. And since it’s attached to her dear sweet Jakey, it should be foolproof.”

“See,” Patrick replied, grinning at his brother. “Nothin' to worry about.”

Peter sighed. “Quinn, bathroom.”

“On it!” The stripper jumped on top of the table, hopping clean over him to rush to Lena’s side and drag her toward the bathrooms with Prue joining in to help.

Jake watched them for a minute before turning to the two brothers. “So I’m some kind of distraction?”

Peter leaned forward. “Our sister has very strict moods when it comes to this level of drinking.”

“The first, as you probably coulda guessed, is she gets real touchy.” Patrick winked at him.

“Then she gets overly honest. And from there she’s a ball of energy looking for a fight.”

“Or a fuck.”

Jake nodded, eyes narrowing. “So, I’m supposed to what?”

Peter regarded Jake with a look, one similar to the one he’d given him months ago with the threat. “You convince her to go home. Nothing else.”

“And what if she presses for more than a quick drop off?”

“Watch a movie with her, play a board game, I don’t care just be respectful.”

The warning, though one he knew was Peter’s way of showing love for his sister, stung. Patrick nudged the bald man. “Oi, Jake ain’t some criminal. He’ll take care of her.”

Quinn and Prue led Lena back to their table, letting her flop down beside Jake before shooing the boys to make room. The redhead looked up at him with a weak smile. “I threw up.”

He chuckled and brushed her hair out of her face. “I bet. Maybe we should take it easy for a minute.”

“That sounds boring.”

“Boring can be fun sometimes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Ozzy walked to their table with a kind nod and a plate of drinks. “Good ta see ya Jake. Was wonderin when you’d find your way here after this one showed up.”

“Yeah, she’s quick.”

Ozzy set a small shot glass down in front of her. “Oooh, what’s this one?”

“Water,” he replied.

“Eww,” Lena whined.

Giving her a stern but loving look, Ozzy pointed. “Drink it, or I’ll have one of the idiot's spoon feed it to you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him but lifted the glass of water to her lips and downed the liquid quickly. “Happy?”

The older man ruffled her hair with his large hand. “Yes, I am, you stubborn girl.”

As the night dragged on Jake saw what the others had meant about Lena’s drunken moods. She touched him every chance she got, leaning on him, hugging him, kissing him. Jake did his best to keep her from doing something she’d likely regret, but as he’d been warned she was difficult to reason with. When the brutal honesty started coming into play the others quickly vacated the area, not wanting to be given unsolicited advice on their deepest and most troubling issues. Luckly for him she seemed more focused on laying across his lap than she was unearthing all his issues.

The biker leader walked through the door and Lena jumped from the booth, tackling him in a big hug. “DOM!”

Jake noted that the only times he’d seen the cold drug dealer smile was with Lena and conflicted feelings rose in his chest. Dom walked her back to the booth and sat down next to her, feeling her forehead and checking her eyes. “Just drinks tonight?”

“Yep.” She over pronounced the P with a giggle. “I really wanted to call you though. You’re more fun.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I’ve got shit to do tonight.”

Lena pouted. “Awwww you’re not gonna babysit me?”

“Maybe I’ll drop by later and check up on ya.” Dom offered.

“That’s good enough I guess.”

Dom met Jake’s eyes over the table. “You in charge of her tonight?”

He shrugged, looking around to Prue and Will dancing and Quinn and Ari at the bar. “Looks like it.”

He nodded. “Get her home safe, tough guy.”

After another hour dancing with her, Jake finally managed to coax Lean out the door and toward her house. They greeted the bikers, whose numbers had seemingly grown, bringing a tense feeling to his gut. Once Lena opened her door she was on him. Soft hands caressing his cheeks and pulling his hair while her addictive mouth kissed and nipped at his lips and neck. Jake felt lightheaded as he chased her lips, wanting nothing more than to keep kissing her, but knowing that he couldn’t.

She was surprisingly strong as she manuvered them toward her bedroom door, pulling him from his own selfish desires and back into the moment. Holding her shoulders and pushing her away slightly he huffed. “Wait.”

“What?” She whined, trying to pull him closer. “Don’t you want to?’

Yes. Jake ground his teeth together. “No, not like this.”

Everything shifted as her lower lip wobbled. "Am I horrible?" She asked him, tears shining in her eyes. "Why does no one want me?"

Her words… The hoarse, near-sobbing sound of her voice felt like a slap to the face. There was no way she actually thought he or anyone didn't want her. She was everything… Perfect in ways he couldn't even explain. But her face said it all. Lena looked exactly how she had when he pulled her out of the water that night in The Cape. She looked like a lost and scared girl, searching for the love and acceptance of a mother capable of neither. At that moment, he saw every ounce of pain and insecurity she'd carried with her just as real as her scars.

He carefully took her face in his hands and sighed. "That's not why…" God damn it. Jake pressed his body into hers, chasing the now fleeting feeling of her warmth. "I do want you, Lena. God, I want you." His thumbs wiped away the tears that slid down her cheeks. "I want you sober. I want you to remember everything we say and do… and I want you not to regret any of it after."

She grabbed at his clothes, eyes filled with that brave or stupid drunken gleam of truth. "I've never wanted anyone the way I want you." Her hands were so soft and warm against his skin as she molded herself into him, pressing her lips to his. "I wouldn't regret you, Jake… I couldn't."

He wanted to give in to her. Wanted to finally know what being with her without their stupid rules, barriers, and games would be like. But above all that desire, Jake couldn't shake the familiar feeling of nausea that settled in his gut. At that moment, he felt like he had all those nights with Simone. He felt like a tool there only to alleviate her hurt… He felt like she was using him.

Jake's grip on her tightened slightly as he gently put some space between them. "It doesn't feel right. I don't… I don't want you to use me to distract yourself."

She seemed to sober up in an instant, pulling herself away from him. Jake prepared for the angry shouts and the hideous words to fly at him. His whole body tensed in preparation, only to be met with her tender voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to feel…" Lena shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jake. I shouldn't have put my shitty issues on you. That wasn't fair of me."

"You're not mad?" He asked, now on the verge of tears of his own.

"No," she breathed, retaking a step toward him. "I'm not mad at you. I would never be mad at you for this." His heart pounded in his ears, the nervousness and nausea fading slowly. Then, sensing the shift, Lena stepped closer again. "Can I… Can I hug you?"

Jake said nothing, silently reaching out and wrapping his arms around her. At that moment, her hands settling against his back felt better than anything he'd ever felt during some one-night stand. She'd once told him sex wasn't everything… That intimacy and closeness could come from simple things. He hadn't believed her then, but now… Now he understood what she meant. With his face buried into her hair, he whispered, "Thank you."

After a minute or longer, she pulled back, wordlessly wiping the tears that had slipped through his burning eyes. "You can go home if you want to. I'll be alright on my own. Or, you can stay for a bit. Whatever you want."

"We could watch that movie you were telling me about," he offered, slightly unsure.

"I still can't believe you've never seen Ghostbusters." Lena smiled at him, and he knew this was real. She really didn't mind him refusing her advances. She didn't hold it against him. "I'm gonna go change if you want to start it. Should just be on the shelf."

"Okay," was all he could say as he dumbly watched her walk away, closing the bedroom door behind her.

It felt weird. The way the air had instantly lifted once he'd told her how he felt. Simone would have found a way to convince him. She would have suggested some wine or changed in front of him, knowing his resolve would falter seeing her. Simone would have been angry for weeks after. She would have called him a child. He shook his head, moving to put the movie in and settle on her couch next to the tiger stuffed animal he won for her. For once, it didn’t matter to him what Simone would have done. Now, all he focused on was what Lena did.

She joined him on the couch, reaching over to grab the stuffed tiger and cuddle into him as the movie started. “I like this movie much better than the one you picked.”

Jake watched her more than he did the screen. “I do too.”

Once she’d drifted to sleep on his lap, Jake picked her up and carried her to her room. She sleepily snuggled the tiger under the covers and looked up at him, lifted her head to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Goodnight, Jake.”

His whole face tingled. “Goodnight, Lena.”

The hangover I had the next morning was brutal, but it beat waking up in some stinking drug den so I didn’t complain. Prue and Quinn gave me the quick rundown of the night after my memory started to blur. “Did Jake take me home?”

“Yeah, he was so sweet.”

“Why?”

I remembered him in my apartment, our kissing and the way my body had burned for him, but above all that I remembered the way he’d stopped things before they got out of hand and the vunerable moments that followed. “No reason.”

The Ring was empty when I got there, but the sound of chains rattling drew me to the small practice ring, where Peter tiredly swung at the bag in the corner until he stumbled and had to lower himself to the mat. I greeted the small hairless cat before moving to join him. “You’re getting stronger.”

“Slowly.”

Taking hold of his hand I smiled. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, big brother.”

He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. “I know.”

“Did you see her?” I asked him with a sad look.

“No.” Peter sighed. “She showed up and hung around for an hour, but I didn’t… I don’t have anything left to say to her.”

I squeezed his hand tighter. "Probably for the best. I know what she does to you."

Peter turned his head, looking down at me from where he lay. "How are you holding up?"

"Poorly," I answered honestly. "I don't think I've ever wanted to get high more than I do right now."

"No one would think less of you if you did." My brother's face was filled with understanding.

"I would."

He nodded, bumping his forehead to mine. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

Clenching my jaw, I sighed. "Will you come to work with me? I don't know if she'll show up, but… I…"

"I get it." Carefully he sat up. "Let me go get dressed into something nicer."

"For the love of god, don't put that suit back on!"

True to his word Peter came down in a nice blazer and simple dress pants, both of which thankfully fit him. He happily joined me through my shift, chatting with Nicky and Jake at the bar while I ran food to the dining room. Our mom didn’t show and by the time ten oclock came around we both knew she wasn’t going to. But, just when I’d begun to relax… to let my guard down the stiff sound of a cane dragging along the floor caught my attention.

“Bonjour, Précieuse.” He sounded so different from how I’d remembered. Older… sad.

I turned, abandoning the kitchen doors I’d been standing in front of to look at him. He looked the same as he had when I saw him at the theatre, but tonight was different… Heavier. “François… I didn’t… I…”

His lips thinned into a tight line. “Oui, I know you were not expecting to see me again. However, I could not help myself.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I wish to speak with you.”

Convincing Tony to let me visit François in the hospital had been surprisngly easy, something that had put me on edge, but I’d assumed that after last night… after he got what he wanted he’d calmed down. With a modest bouquet of lilies and lavender I approached his door, quietly knocking before I entered. “François?”

The golden haired boy weakly turned his head to look at me, eyes red and puffy. “What are you doing here?”

I walked toward him, moving slower, stiff and sore, my body still recovering from last night. I sat in the empty seat beside him with a wince, carefully adjusting until the pain was mostly bearable. “I wanted to check in… make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay?” He spat. “Look at me… Why would I be okay?”

“I-”

“You left me there.” His eyes filled with tears as he grabbed the flowers from my hand and threw them across the room. I flinched. “YOU LEFT ME THERE!”

Tears filled my eyes as I shook, holding onto my arms tightly. “I didn’t have a choice…”

François shook his head and whined. “The doctors say the damage done to my knee is severe. They say I will never dance again.”

“I’m…” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, François. I… What can I do?”

“Leave.”

“What?” Hurt filled my lungs as I looked at him, the boy who once held nothing but joy and life and love in his eyes. Now those eyes were filled with pain and hatred.

“Leave. And do not come back.”

“François,” I whispered. “Please… I…”

He turned his head away from me, crying softly. “I do not want to see you ever again Lena Glover.”

I didn’t remember standing, or getting on the elevator with Tony’s men, but as we rode down everything became clear. There are worse things than dying.

Jake wiped the bar down slowly, his eyes fixed on the red hair that glowed beneath the dining room lights for a long minute before they shifted to the face of the man across from her. He looked sad, Jake noted. He looked like a pain deeper than eyes could see haunted his every waking moment, a feeling Jake knew too well. He’d noticed how hesitant Lena had been agreeing to sit down with him, and now he was determined to make sure she felt safe.

“Relax,” Peter told him from where he still sat at the bar. “François is one of the good ones.”

Shaking his head he moved his rag slightly. “She didn’t seem too excited to see him.”

Peter nodded, looking down at the water in his glass. “There’s a lot of pain there. A lot that’s been left unsaid for too long.”

“Who is he?”

“A dancer,” Peter replied. “She always spoke of him fondly so I assume they had somewhat of a blooming romance.”

“What happened between them?”

The brothers face furrowed. “That’s not my story to share. Just… let her have this, Jake. She deserves the closure.” He stood, putting his blazer back on. “Tell her I went home and to call if she needs me.”

Jake turned his eyes back to their table, watching closely for any sign of distress. “I will.”

“You look good,” I told him, stiffly sitting in the chair across from him.

“As do you,” he replied.

The awkward silence was killing me slowly. “Why did you come here?”

François sighed. “I’ve wanted to see you for a long time, but I never had the courage to… not after…”

I cast my eyes downward. “I understand.”

“No,” he whispered. “You do not. I never should have blamed you for what happened.”

“It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” he insisted. “The man behind the gun is the one to blame for what happened, Lena. I was… I was angry. In one night my life had changed so drastically. I thought without dancing… that I was nothing.” He sighed. “And I took that fear out on you.”

You deserved it. “I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“As am I.” He smiled. “Will you… dance with me?”

“What?”

He gestured to the empty space of the dining room. “I cannot move the way I once did, but I would like to have one last dance with you.”

“I would… Like that.” I stood, helping him from his seat and holding him closely as we swayed gently from one side to the other. It was hardly dancing, but with his knee it was the best either of us could do.

His shining eyes bore down into mine, filled with regret and a still shimmgering ember of fondness. François tucked my hair behind my ear. “I forgot how magnificent you were.”

Shaking my head I disagreed. “I’m average.”

“You have never been average Lena, not for one moment.” François held my face with one hand, stroking my cheek as tears began to build in my eyes. “I think… if things had been different you would have been the love of my life.”

“You would have been mine too,” I admitted softly. “You were the only one that ever… You were too good for me.”

He chuckled. “Impossible, Précieuse.”

I chuckled, resting my head against his chest. “I missed that laugh.”

“As I missed yours.”

We danced until his knee couldn’t handle the strain any longer, left standing in each others arms… both not wanting to say goodbye but both knowing we had to. “I hope you find a new purpose, François. One that brings you the joy ballet did.”

“I hope this for you as well. Now, one last kiss before we part ways?”

All I could do was nod and let him pull me into him. His warm lips pressed gently to mine, a simple and modest kiss shared between a thirteen year old girl and the fourteen year old boy she’d fallen for. It was the perfect farewell. “Goodbye, Prince Ivan.”

He smiled, tears building in his eyes as he stroked my cheek. “Au revoir, mon précieux oiseau de feu.”

I locked the front door behind him, relieved knowing that everyone else had already gone home and that no one would see me like this. Slowly making my way to the stairs, intending to get my things and go home I found myself heaving instead. I collapsed onto the steps, holding my hand over my mouth in some miserable attempt to keep in the sobs bursting from my throat. My hands trembled as I tried to find something to ground myself… to escape this cold and mournful feeling. Then, someone cleared their throat at the top of the stairs, startling me.

Jake leaned against the railing, holding a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. I quickly wiped my eyes and stood up. “Sorry. I… I thought everyone went home.”

“I figured you could use a smoke,” he said softly.

With a wobbling voice, I answered, “That… sounds nice.”

He descended the stairs and sat down, waiting for me to join him on the step before he lit the cigarette and took a few puffs of the smoke before offering it to me. With slightly shaking hands, I took it, enjoying the slight burn that filled my lungs. "So it's for him, the tattoo?" Jake asked, sounding slightly on edge.

“No… Not entirely…” I sighed. "It's more of a reminder," I told him, trying to focus on anything but the pain that simmered beneath my skin.

"A reminder of what?"

"That there are worse things than dying."

Jake watched me for a moment before he took the cigarette back. “So you two were like a couple or what?”

What could I say that would tell him of the beauty and horrors of my summer romance with François? What words would be enough to capture the way it felt to be truly loved by someone only to have it all torn away? I shrugged. “He was my first love. Or at least, I like to see it that way.” I smiled, the rush of fond memories filling me with a moment of happiness. “We were dance partners back when I was still with my mom. I was thirteen, and he was fifteen. It… It wasn’t much of a relationship. I mean, we only really had one summer with each other before…” I swallowed a hard lump as that happiness was replaced with blood and screaming. "Don't leave me.”

“He doesn’t really seem like your type,” Jake noted, the steady timber of his voice gently coaxing me out of the pained memories. “No offense.”

“None taken,” I told him with a sigh. “He was beautiful, funny and fearless and… everything I wanted to be. But, François… He was the first person that thought I was more than some porcelain doll. He was the first person that actually saw me.”

I could see his head tilt to the side from the corner of my eye. “Sounds like a decent guy.”

I nodded. “He was. François was just good and so charming and… It always reminded me of Peter. That way, he just beautifully moved through the world like it was all so amazing.”

A beat passed of us exchanging the cigarette before Jake finally asked, “What happened? Between you and him.”

“I fucked it up. Like always.” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I shook my head, scoffing. “It was so stupid… thinking I could ever have something like that. Something good." I forced myself to breathe as the words just flowed. “It was all my fault. He… He lost everything he loved, all that goodness and that fearlessness, because of me.”

“That’s not true,” Jake said. “I don’t know him… or what happened… but I know you, Lena. Whatever it was, it wasn’t your fault.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head, wiping my tears away with the back of my sleeve and trying to reign in the pain. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” He gently lifted my face, turning it to meet his calm blue eyes. “What you feel matters.” With a shuddering breath, I fell into his arms, clutching onto him for dear life as he held me. “It’s okay.”

I sobbed into his skin, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping me from drowning… like by some miracle, this proximity to him would keep all the horrible dark things lurking around the corner from me. My mother wasn’t going to let this one visit be the last. Olive was on a warpath to prove I was the ungrateful child she believed me to be… to take everything I’d worked for. Tony was… My hands curled in Jake’s shirt, trying not to think about what Tony would do to him if… when he finally came out of the shadows for me.

My voice was little more than a pathetic whimper of his name. “Jake…”

“I’ve got you,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “I’ve got you, Lena.”

Leave. I wanted to say… wanted to warn him. You’re selfish for keeping him here. For putting him in danger because of some childish fantasy that he could ever want you. I closed my eyes tighter, the voice in my head a mix of my own and Tony’s. “Jake…” I pushed myself away from his chest and looked into his eyes. Leave me. He watched me, gently brushing the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs as he held my face in his hands. “I…” Tell. Him. To. Go. “I’m scared…”

His eyes were unbearably soft as he nodded, jaw clenching for a second before he said, “Of what?"

Of falling back into my old habits. Of disappointing everyone I love. Of losing you. Of what is worse than dying. There were so many words I could have said, but all I could do was shrug and shake. "It just feels like something bad is going to happen, and I…" I won't survive it if he hurts you… "I can't do it again."

"Nothing bad’s gonna happen." He shook his head and sadly smiled at me. "Not while I’m here. Not while I’ve got you.”

“Jake-”

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

Breathing out a shaking breath, I let his warmth comfort me as I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

Jake’s smile eased the pain, but the way he pulled me back into him, holding me like I was important, made everything start to fade away. “Come here, princess.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as his hands rubbed soothingly down my arms. “For everything.”

“What are friends for?” He replied with a chuckle.

Friends. For the first time since I’d met him… since our flirtatious relationship had shifted to something casually sexual with lingering kisses and blowjobs and fingering the word didn’t feel like enough. It felt like a lie, one I’d been able to cling to before, but now there was a word, a feeling that sparked in my chest like a freshly lit ember. A feeling I’d have to ignore, but I knew some way, somehow, it wasn’t going to go away.

Howard walked home in the dark, alone. Simone had stopped asking him to join her after Tess had tried to leverage herself into a higher position by sleeping with him. An indulgence he both regretted and did not. So, in the chilled autumn air, he walked alone with his thoughts, which, as of late, had been plagued with a pebble lodged in his shoe for too long. The one with dark hair and an attitude that made him want to scream.

Jake had always been a problem. The way he interacted with guests was childish and sloppy; one wrong word spoken was always enough to set him off into some tantrum. He’d wanted to be done with him years ago, but Simone - the thorned rose that, while brutal and a pain to deal with, brought something to the restaurant he knew he needed - had insisted. The two were a package deal, she’d said. Never one without the other. Yet, to him, it seemed they were further away from each other than they’d ever been. The young man's focus had shifted to a place Howard had been worried about since Lena Harrow walked into his office all those months ago.

Their attraction to one another was expected. The bartender was handsome and young, charismatic when he wanted to be. But what he thought would be a quick fling or nothing at all had been dragged out in some painful dance. He worried for the lively and spirited girl he’d watched blossom despite the weight placed on her delicate shoulders.

Lena was beautiful, talented, and held so much spirit. She reminded Howard of his late wife when she was younger. The two shared many traits, but… if Howard were truly honest with himself, the roles were reversed. It was his wife that reminded him of Lena. It was one of the reasons he’d married her. He loved her with all he had, but those urges… the undeniable attraction he’d harbored for the would-be Glover as she worked tirelessly by her aunt's side had always been there.

A red and white car parked outside his house made him pause, and a wave of unease made his gut tighten as he cautiously approached his front door, only to find it ajar. Howard breathed in and entered, unwilling to be bullied from his own home. “Hello?”

“Howard.” The sound of liquor swishing in one of his crystal glasses echoed as expensive cigar smoke stung his nose. “I let myself in. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He walked forward, ignoring the larger men in the room with them. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Anthony?”

“You remember a favor I once did for you?” The young, well-dressed man asked with a sparkling grin that never reached his dead eyes. “Well, it’s time to pay up.”

The sounds from his TV made Howard’s gut drop. Shame and guilt and something darker warring within him. “What do you want?”

Anthony laughed, deranged and dangerous. “Come now, Howard. Let’s not pretend you don’t already know.”

“I can’t…”

He held up a single finger. “Don’t. Don’t say another fucking word.”

“Anthony…”

“Debts must be paid. You can either pay it in action or in flesh.” The men standing in the room closed in, towering over the simple manager with… questionable morals. The TV grew louder, and Howard’s heart hammered in his chest as Tony rose from his couch and walked toward him with a blade gleaming in the light. “Which will it be, Howard?"

"I-"

"Action or flesh?"

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