His Ballerina
Page 6
He’s quiet for a minute, stroking my hair while he’s thinking. When he’s like this, I feel as if I can tell him anything and he’d understand. “It’s been really hard. You’re the first person who’s ever heard me say those words. I barely finished school—not because I didn’t like it or wasn’t any good at it. But I was in and out of so many schools, it was tough to keep up. I’ve never admitted that to anybody, either.”
“Then, I’m honored.” He’s not smiling when he takes my chin and tilts my face toward his. “Seriously. I’m honored that you trust me with that.”
I do trust him. As hard as it is to believe. I trust that I can tell him things. I trust he won’t hurt me. That doesn’t mean I’m totally off my guard, but I’m finding it easier to open up. To relax against him when I know, I can trust his hand won’t turn to a fist, that the arm around me won’t squeeze too hard.
“What about ballet? You seem to love that.”
“I do.” I feel myself warming up, smiling without even meaning to. All I have to do is think about dancing, and that’s how I respond. “It’s what I love more than anything else. I think I would die if I ever had to stop dancing.”
“I’ve never had anything in my life that meant half as much to me as ballet means to you. When I watched you and saw your smile? The way you glow? It took my breath away. I was even a little jealous, I guess.”
“Yeah? Of me?” It’s laughable, but he’s not laughing when he strokes my cheek with the back of his hand.
“Yeah. Of you.” He grins. “I don’t admit that to just anybody. Feeling jealousy. I’ve been above that all my life. I guess there’s something about you that makes me want to open up.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” He kisses my forehead, and that’s nice. I close my eyes and inhale the scent of him. The soap he used in the shower, the touch of sweat after what we just did together. It’s a nice combination—something I could get used to.
“Hell, is that the time?” Archer slides out from under me and sits up, running both hands through his hair and scowling at the clock on the nightstand. “I have an errand to run; I’d better get moving.”
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere, you’ll come with me.” He smirks over his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I would never take you anywhere there’s danger. Believe that.”
I believe he means it. I just don’t know if the people he associates with feel the same way. I guess I’ll find out soon enough since I know better than to disagree. He’d probably throw me over his shoulder and march out of the apartment.
Hmm. I don’t completely hate the thought of that. What does that say about me?
There’s no time to think about it when I’m busy getting dressed in the clothes I was wearing when I got to Archer’s. The look on his face tells me what he thinks about my jeans and blouse. “It’s either this or your sweats,” I remind him with a grin.
“Good point.” He looks me up and down as we leave the apartment. “Though you’ll need some new clothes. No offense, but there’s more to life than Goodwill.”
“None taken.” Though seriously, does he think I enjoyed having to shop there? I wasn’t being cute or thrifting because it’s trendy. I was surviving.
When we pull up in front of a club, I’m glad I went with the jeans, though nothing I own is exactly right for a night out. “What are we doing here?”
“Business.” He waves away a valet who approaches as he’s helping me out of the car. “I won’t be here long. Don’t touch it.” Archer then drapes his leather jacket over my shoulders before escorting me into the club through a pair of tinted glass doors. He ignores the pair of bouncers standing near the entrance, walking fast enough that I have to trot to keep up with him.
I don’t like this place. It hasn’t opened for business yet—either that or it’s not very popular—and the bartenders eyeball us the entire way across the empty dance floor. Music is still playing, a bass-heavy song turned up loud enough to make my ears hurt.
Archer leads me all the way to the far wall, where a door sits. It blends in so well I would never notice it if there wasn’t a tall, thick-necked man standing on either side with their hands clasped in front of them.
The way they look me up and down isn’t sexual. More like they’re sizing me up. Wondering who I am. Maybe they think I’m a threat? That would be funny, like a bear being afraid of a mouse.
“I’m here to talk to Bruno. Or Deke, if Bruno’s not around.” Archer spits the words at them. Defiant, angry. “Don’t bother telling me they’re too busy, either. The place isn’t even open yet.”
So Bruno and Deke are the owners? I wish he would’ve given me the rundown before we got here. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so totally lost.
One of the two men jerks his chin at Archer. “Who should I say is calling?”
Archer smirks. “Don’t waste my time. Just tell them I’m here to see them.” Meanwhile, I can feel the bartenders staring holes into the back of my head. There are a few girls in tight, barely-there clothes wandering around in the periphery of my vision, too. Waitresses? Whoever they are, they’re laughing at me.
If there’s one thing I got used to over the years, walking around in a school full of strangers and wearing clothes that never quite fit right, it’s being laughed at.
Suddenly, the door flies open, and a man who makes the two thugs in front of us look like they’re pre-pubescent fills the doorway. “What do you want, Archer?”
“Deke.” The disgust practically drips from Archer’s voice. “You know I don’t love coming down here and looking at you. But one of my boys has gone missing the past day or two, and I wondered if you’d know anything about that.”
Deke shakes his bald head slowly, his eyes narrowing into slits. “Nope. No idea.”
“You mean you haven’t heard anything at all? Trent, his name is. You haven’t seen him?”
“And why would I know anybody from your crew? Why would I see them?” When he folds his arms, I’m sure the seams on his sleeves are going to pop from the strain. He must work out full-time.
“I don’t know. I heard some things.”
Deke’s eyes drift away from Archer and land on me, and oh, boy, I sure wish they wouldn’t. “I heard some things, too.” His smile is the scariest thing about him.
Archer’s arm tightens around my waist, and I find myself leaning against him. Cuddling up to him. No way would he let this overdeveloped meat bag put his hands on me. I’ve seen what he can do, and I know he’s capable of spending an entire day following me around to make sure nobody goes near me. He wouldn’t let this Deke person leave the building alive.
“Let’s not get off-track. I heard you and my boy Trent were getting friendly there for a while. You were seen together a few times—not only Trent, either. A few others from our crew. If you’re that desperate for friends, you should work on your personality. And you should find your friends elsewhere. Got me?”
“Maybe if I had the first idea what you’re talking about.” Deke nods his head to somebody behind us. “Now get outta here before we open for business. Wouldn’t want anybody calling the health department after seeing roaches running around here.”
Archer looks over his shoulder. I can see the man standing behind us out of the corner of my eye. Something tells me he’s not here to welcome us.
“Remember what I said.” Archer’s holding onto me almost as tight as I’m holding onto him as we back away. “Elsewhere. Or I might start having to trail my guys when they’re out on the street, just to be sure you’re not whispering in their ears.”
“Yeah. Do that and see how far it gets you and your family.” Deke glances my way one more time with a nasty little smirk before slamming the door shut. I can’t wait to be out of here.
And I don’t have to wait too long, either. We cross the dance floor again and head out to the sidewalk, and his SUV is waiting where we left it. “I didn’t touch it,” the valet makes sure to say before Archer helps me in
side.
I can breathe now. We’re alone, and Archer will keep me safe. I know that. I feel it in my bones.
Once we’re on our way, he takes my hand and raises it to his lips. “I’m sorry I had to take you there. We’ll go home now.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” He kisses my hand again. “I’ll always do everything I can to keep you away from this part of my life. You don’t belong there. You’re too good for it. But sometimes, it’ll be safer to take you with me than to leave you unprotected elsewhere. Know what I mean?”
I don’t. Not exactly. All I know is he means it, and that’s enough for me.
10
Archer
What did I do to deserve this? To wake up with this incredible woman in my arms?
Is this how normal men feel? Men who live out in that other world. I always figured this sort of thing was beyond me. For men better than me. Men who don’t kill as part of the family business.
Turns out even dark souls like mine can sometimes stumble across heaven.
That’s what this is. Having her next to me, wrapped in my embrace, her hair spilling over my chest like a gold curtain. How is her skin so soft? It doesn’t even feel real.
She wiggles a little when I run a hand down her back, snuggling closer with a soft groan. “That’s nice.”
“You’re nice. I could touch you forever.”
“I wouldn’t fight you.” She raises her head, propping her chin up on the forearm, resting on my chest. Her eyes are shining, her hair mussed thanks to the hours we spent exploring each other last night. It’ll be a miracle if she can walk without wincing today.
The moment doesn’t last long, and she frowns. “It’s a shame that’s not how real-life works.”
“Isn’t it?” When she starts to raise herself up like she’s getting out of bed, the arm I’ve wrapped around her waist holds her still. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To work. Real-life doesn’t wait, Archer.”
“What’s this real-life you keep talking about? Isn’t this real? Right here, right now?”
“But I have to go.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll lose my job if I don’t.” She blows out an exasperated sigh. “Look, it’s been great—better than great—but I can’t be here all the time. I have to leave eventually.”
“Why?”
“Why do you keep asking why? I’ll lose my job. I know it’s not much, but I need it. Those tips are—”
“Those tips are not even a fraction of what I can do for you. What do I have to say to make you understand? You don’t need to ever go back to that diner. Or the grocery store, or the gym, or that awful apartment.”
Her forehead creases when she frowns. “What if you change your mind? You barely know me. What if you decide you don’t want me anymore? Where would that leave me? On the street, without a job and not a penny to my name.”
“I would never do that to you, and I know I won’t change my mind.”
“You mean it?”
“Remember what I told you. I don’t say things I don’t mean, baby. I’m taking care of you from now on.”
“I want to believe you. I want to trust everything you say, and part of me does, but there is this little voice in the back of my mind saying that this can’t be real, that I need to get up and go to work or I won’t eat next week.” Her voice breaks at the end like she is overtaken by her own emotions.
“I know I’m asking you to put a lot of trust in me, but I promise I will not disappoint you. I will care for you, I will make sure you have everything you need, and I will never, ever get tired of you.”
She chews her lip. “It feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“Please.” I roll my eyes before getting out of bed. “I’m the one setting the terms here, baby. All you have to do is enjoy everything you’ve missed out on. Including a decent wardrobe.”
“You really do hate my clothes, don’t you?”
I throw her a smile before ducking into my closet. “Hate’s a strong word. But it fits. Get dressed so we can go buy you some new clothes.”
“What?” Her question echoes off the walls, the ceiling. I don’t bother answering since we’re doing nothing but talking in circles. She’ll understand once we reach the mall.
Only she still doesn’t. Her arm is wrapped around mine as we walk in, her eyes wide as we pass one store after another. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“It is. Where do you want to go first? There’s a lingerie store.” I move my eyebrows up and down, which makes her giggle. “That’s a must-visit. There’s the department store at one end. The boutique coming up here. Two shoe stores.” I point to them. “And I guess maybe you might like girly things. Makeup and stuff like that. Whatever you want.”
“Archer. How can you afford this?” She stands in front of me, still holding my arm, her eyes wide and full of doubt—mixed with something else. Something I haven’t seen in those blue depths until now.
Hope.
“You let me worry about that—and I’m not worried,” I add when she flinches. The girl has been poor her entire life. It’ll take time for her to get used to this. “Decide where you want to go first, and we’re there.”
She bites her lip. “Could we… go to the shoe store first? My sneakers are falling apart.”
I noticed. “Next stop, the shoe store.”
It takes a while for her to loosen up, but I expected that. Once I convince her that yes, she deserves more than a single pair of shoes and no, she shouldn’t worry about the price tag, she starts enjoying herself a little. Pumps, flats, boots. Whenever something catches her eye, I encourage her to try it on. Before long, there’s a stack of boxes waiting to be rung up.
We’re only getting started, of course. After two hours, she’s tried on more jeans, dresses, skirts, and sweaters than she’s probably ever tried on in her life. The chairs set up in front of the dressing rooms are heaped with things she likes, things she looks fantastic in. With a body like hers, she can wear anything.
I can already imagine what she’ll do when I tell her she can have a brand-new pair of ballet shoes, too, but I’ll save that for last, like the cherry on top.
Her cheeks are flushed with excitement when she steps out of the dressing room wearing a fitted black dress that looks like it was made just for her. It hugs her hips, her ass, and her tits look good enough to eat as they peek out over the neckline. I don’t know if I want to tear it off her and fuck her until she begs me to stop or stand in front of her so none of the random guys passing the store see her.
She’s mine, only for me.
“You like it?” Her sparkling eyes tell me how excited she is. It must be like a dream come true for her—the sight of her being so happy thrills me.
It’s a drug. I want more. I’ll never stop wanting more of her happiness.
“I love it.” Leaning in, I brush my mouth against her ear. “I’d love it even more on my bedroom floor.” I take her hand and place it against the cock, straining to burst out of my jeans.
“Archer!” But her eyes never stop sparkling—if anything, they’re shining more than ever. I had a feeling the angel wouldn’t be so angelic given the right inspiration, didn’t I?
It takes a few hours more, but by the time we’re finished, both of us are carrying at least four bags apiece. Madison has a new leather satchel over one shoulder, too, and that’s full of what looks like half the makeup store’s stock: skincare, masks, makeup, girly stuff like that.
“This is just the start, baby. You’d better get used to living like this.”
She only snickers. “Every day can’t be like this.”
“Why not?” We stop short of the doors, and I turn to her. “You’re staying with me now. Forever. Why wouldn’t I treat you like a queen every day?”
“You can’t mean that.” Her voice is soft, like she’s talking to somebody she wants to let down easily. Or s
omebody in the grip of a delusion.
“I do.” I take a step closer to her, inhaling her scent, memorizing every line of her precious face. “I’m not letting you go. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
She will. I’ll make sure she does if it takes every day of the rest of my life. Making her as happy as she’s been today is my life’s purpose, plain and simple. Nobody has ever deserved it more.
11
Madison
If it wasn’t for the weight of the heavy bags in my hands and over my shoulder, I’d swear today has been a dream. The best dream. The sort of dream a girl has when she’s lying in bed at night, alone in a cold, bare room. Or when she’s on her way from one back-breaking job to another.
A shopping spree. Everything I could ever want, everything I could ever need. Even things I don’t technically need but the girl at the makeup store talked me into.
Granted, she didn’t have to try too hard.
“You happy?” Archer grins as he raises the back of the SUV to load the bags behind the seats.
“What do you think?” I’ve never been happier than I am right now. He’s making my dreams come true, one after another. I’m almost afraid to believe I don’t have to go to the diner anymore, that I don’t have to clean the gym bathrooms and stock countless shelves with boxes and cans. I don’t have to force a smile when a customer gets handsy or asks too many personal questions.
No more exhaustion. No more scrambling around, trying to make ends meet, skipping meals because I can’t afford to eat.
“I have to admit something.” I wait until he lowers the door, locking my treasures inside. “This is all happening so fast, so it’s not easy to get used to it all at once. It has nothing to do with not believing you. It’s just that…”
He steps closer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes smolder when they meet mine, staring deep. “It’s just that you’ve spent so long telling yourself you can’t have even the basics that this is a lot to absorb at once.”