The Bad Boy's Dance

by Vera Calloway

  “What about you?”

  Startled, I turned to find Asher studying me intently. “What do you mean?”

  “What’s your story? Knut almost had a coronary when she found out you were some dancing star or something. What changed that?”

  A boy, one night, and a court room.

  I bit my lip. “I’d rather not discuss it, if you don’t mind.”

  Asher was silent for a few minutes, and I wondered if maybe he was angry that I was being hypocritical by demanding information from him, but refusing to reveal it myself.

  “Huh,” he said. My eyes flashed to his. “I can practically see you shutting down.”

  It was impossible to look away from the cobalt spheres trapping me in their gaze. My heart rate picked up, and my breaths came in puffs.

  A loud techno beat snapped me from my trance. Fumbling to reach my phone, I pressed it to my ear quickly. “Hello?” I said, coughing to return circulation to my veins.

  “Why do you sound like you’ve been running?”

  Dana’s familiar voice helped alleviate the dreamlike state this hidden piece of heaven had me in. Freaking gorgeous lake and cute ducks.

  And the boy beside me, enhancing its loveliness.

  “Maybe you’ve been running so it sounds like I have?”

  She groaned. “Ivy, I am so not in the mood for your circular arguments today. We’re home, and I already called your folks to let them know. They took Spencer and Paul out for dinner, and they say that the nanny watching Jodi will leave once you get home.”

  Jodi was a heavy sleeper, so I wasn’t too worried I’d have to deal with an irate toddler. “Thanks, Dana. I owe you one.”

  “Well, I’m gonna cash it in when I force you to spill what the heck happened last night with that hunk of tall, dark, and handsome.”

  What was with her? One minute she’s pro-Asher, the next she was a Nazi to Asher’s Jew.

  “Right. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Ciao!”

  Asher raised a brow at me.

  Coughing, I smiled sheepishly. “Are you willing to complete your Good Samaritan deeds and drop me off? I have no ride.”

  A devilish smirk appeared, and I frowned at him. “Don’t even say it.”

  “I’m always available for a ride.”

  “And he says it,” I sighed, standing.

  He followed suit, and we made our way to his car. Night had completely fallen, and I reminded Asher to switch on his headlights.

  He snickered. “I’m not as scatter-brained as you, Miss Safety Hazard.”

  “Oh flick off,” I snapped.

  He laughed heartily, and the sound had my lips curving up involuntarily. “Silver-tongued lass, aren’t you?”

  “Did you just seriously call me a lass.”

  “It appears that I did indeed.”

  “Sugar-britches, it’s not nice to call people ‘lasses’.”

  “What is it with you and these God-awful nicknames?” he groaned.

  “Did you prefer poopsie-bear?”

  We bickered the entire way to my house. The porch light was on, and the nanny, Mrs. Whitfield, rushed outside the minute she heard the car pull in. She stuck her head in through the window hurriedly. “Jodi’s asleep, and I locked the doors and windows. Good night, Ivy!”

  She booked it to her car and drove off.

  “How many siblings do you have?” Asher queried as we climbed from the car.

  “Three. Two older brothers, and a baby sister,” I replied distractedly.

  Asher noticed what I had, and he stiffened besides me. “Do you guys have an alarm system?” he murmured quietly.

  “Yes, but it only activates on the inside,” I whispered fearfully.

  The porch light cast a shadow of a person against the side of the house, a shadow that was slowly moving towards us.

  Asher kneeled slowly, his hand creeping towards his calf, where he’d strapped his gun. Even though I knew the reason he walked around armed, it didn’t make it any less unnerving.

  “Ivy?” a familiar voice called out, and a figure materialized in the full glow of the light. My hand flew to Asher’s shoulder, stopping his movements.

  It couldn’t be. What was he doing here? I hadn’t seen him since he’d testified in court that day.

  “Devin?” I gasped.

  My ex-boyfriend’s best friend.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Revelations

  My ex-boyfriend's best friend was standing outside my front door, hands stuffed in his pockets and gaze directed at the ground. Asher's expression was stony, but I could detect the underlying current of curiosity and suspicion.

  "Hey, Ivy," Devin's lip curled into a half-smile.

  Devin and I had never been close. He wasn't bad, he just hadn't seemed important compared to what had been happening at the time. He'd testified for me in court, testified against his very best friend. After the sentencing, we'd gone our separate ways. He returned to college while I attempted to piece back any semblance of a normal life.

  "What are you doing here?" I breathed.

  He cleared his throat, his eyes flashing to Asher for a minute. "I need to talk to you about something. It's important."

  The "in private" add-on was implied. I started towards him when I felt Asher's hand wind around my elbow tightly.

  "I'm not leaving."

  "Asher," I sighed, tugging my elbow from his grasp. He let me. "This is private, okay?"

  He stared back at me, unwavering. Sometimes, like now, it hit me anew how comfortable I'd become with a person who, quite frankly, terrified the majority of the population. Asher Grayson was not somebody who took no for an answer, or else he wouldn't be where he was today.

  "You owe me, angel," he murmured. "You wouldn't want to be in debt to me."

  That-ugh! My irritation, which had been dormant for awhile, flared brightly.

  " Is this guy bothering you, Ivy?" Devin interjected, stepping forward.

  Asher sent him a look that was downright terrifying.

  " No, it's okay. He's...a friend. You can say what you need to say in front of him," I gave up. "Let's head inside. It's cold."

  Unlocking the door, I flicked on lights as I walked, illuminating the house. Devin and Asher settled in the living room, as far away as possible. "I'm going to go check on Jodi," I informed them, already climbing the stairs. "I'm not cleaning any blood off the floor."

  Jodi's nursery was my favorite room in the entire house. It was painted a dreamy lavender color, and silver stars were tacked on the walls. It oozed childish innocence and joviality.

  Peeking into the crib, I felt a tenseness in my shoulders relax at the welcome sight of the familiar head of blond curls. Jodi snuffled, curling into a tighter ball around her Minnie Mouse, pink lips puckering.

  Planting a breezy kiss on her forehead, I returned downstairs with heavy feet. What could Devin possibly have to tell me? Everything that needed to be said and done between us had concluded a year and a half ago. There was only one thing important enough that would send him in search of me, and I desperately prayed that my fears were unfounded.

  Devin and Asher were glaring at each other, and I noticed that Asher's hand was resting near his calf. Did he always sit this way, with a hand ready to aim a gun, all the time? Seating myself on the couch, across from Devin, I inhaled deeply. A ball of dread and trepidation curled into the pit of my stomach. I had my back to Asher, and he relocated to the armchair so he could keep a better eye on me and Devin.

  "What's wrong, Devin?" I skipped the pleasantries. Neither of us wanted to go through painful how-do-you-do's when it was obvious it was useless.

  He kneaded his forehead and licked his lips. He met my eyes, and it was impossible to miss the sadness and worry in them.

  "He's out, Ivy. They let him out."

  My world, which up until that point had somehow righted itself, was flipped over again. The corner of my vision darkened, and my lungs constricted
. I couldn't breathe. I bent over in the chair, arms wrapping protectively around my chest.

  Distantly, I heard my name being called frantically, but I couldn't respond.

  No no no! This can't be happening! Oh God, please no. Not again. It's supposed to be over.

  My fear and despair morphed into rage, and I stood, startling Asher, who'd been hovering over me. At this point, I barely registered his presence.

  "How can he be out, Devin? How? He got three years, and it's been one!" I shrieked.

  Devin was standing now too, his hands outstretched, placating. Part of me felt guilty that he was the one who had to unload this on me and bear the consequences, but I didn't care.

  "They deemed him mentally fit, Ivy! Somehow, he managed to convince them that he didn't belong there. Good behavior, I don't know! He didn't get a prison sentence, remember? His asshole parents hired a lawyer that convinced the judge and jury that he was unstable." Devin was pacing, his hands rubbing together rapidly.

  "So he convinced them he wasn't crazy? After everything he did?" I was besides myself, and tears threatened to spill over.

  Devin quit his movements and let his hands hang at his sides. "I'm so sorry, Ivy," he whispered.

  The pity and sorrow in his eyes i undid me. My knees gave out, and a pair of strong arms encircled me, holding me upright. I buried my face in Asher's chest as I was wracked by sob after sob.

  "I think you should go," Asher spoke to Devin. "She can't handle anything else tonight."

  There were a few minutes of silence, and then the sound of the front door clicking to a close.

  Somehow, I ended up on the couch, curled into a ball on Asher's lap, my hands clutching his shirt as my tears soaked into his jacket. He smoothed my hair rhythmically, murmuring quietly in my ear, but I couldn't decipher what he was saying.

  When I quieted, I noted my situation. My forehead and hands were pressed into a strong, muscular chest, and I was on Asher' lap. Instead of feeling mortified, or embarrassed, I merely flicked my gaze up to him emotionlessly and said, "Sorry about your shirt. I'll get you a new one."

  Scooting off his lap, I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to disappear into myself.

  Asher made a noise that sounded close to a growl. "I don't give a damn about the shirt, Ivy! Are you okay?"

  "Did you get what you wanted Asher? Are we even now?" my voice was dead, no inflection.

  Don't take it out on him. He doesn't deserve it.

  But I couldn't help it. The words just kept coming. It was like I wanted to hurt him. Make him feel as much pain as much as I was feeling. "You can run off and tell your friends that their theories are right. I am crazy. Or am I? Who knows?"

  The familiar tangle of confusion in my head and the aching emptiness in my chest hovered, just beneath the surface. The claw of self-loathing, of hatred, of bitterness. Everything I thought I'd left behind.

  Asher grabbed my hands, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Stop it. Whatever you're doing, whatever you're telling yourself-cut it out. None of it is true."

  "How would you know?" I whispered. "I don't know."

  "Because I know you," his reply came instantly. "Don't let anyone do this to you, angel."

  When I didn't reply, he looked away, his cobalt eyes swimming with guilt. "I'm so sorry. I should never have forced my being here on you."

  Asher barely ever apologized. And ironically, every time he had, it was because he'd triggered something in me that had built up to this massive meltdown.

  How do I say that his being here is the only thing keeping me sane?

  An overwhelming urge to tell him everything had me opening my mouth and shutting it repeatedly. I didn't want him to think differently of me, to be horrified once he knew. It would change things between us. It would let my past contaminate one of the few untainted aspects of my life.

  But I had to at least tell him the basics. I'd learned a long time ago that hiding information could harm you in the long run.

  Even kill you.

  With that in mind, I waited until Asher met my gaze before I took a few shallow breaths and spoke quietly, fighting to keep my voice from shaking.

  "His name was Jared."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Confessions and Glazed Donuts

  As I prepared to divulge some of my past to Asher, I suddenly wished I’d eaten more. This rollercoaster of a weekend deserved at least a Pop Tart.

  “Ivy?” Asher roused me from my thoughts. I couldn’t look at him. What would he think after I told him? Would he change his mind about me? It was a good thing then, I suppose, that his opinion of me was already so low.

  What I knew I wouldn’t tell him was what happened that night. The night everything flew to hell. My parents had sent me to every time of therapist and psychiatrist in the book; they couldn’t get the details out of me. And I intended to keep it that way.

  Lifting my head to meet his vivid cobalt eyes, I took a deep breath.

  “His name is Jared Kale. We met when I was a sophomore at Darwin. He was a senior, captain of the football team, popular. He was like the perfect catch,” I fought to keep the bitterness from leaking into my voice, but I doubt it worked. Unable to stand the tension, I looked down at my hands, away from the man sitting next to me.

  “Jared asked me out halfway through my sophomore year. I was ecstatic. The popular, athletic senior asking the invisible sophomore out? Of course I said yes. We started dating, and after a month, he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

  I swallowed, banishing the memories. It would be useless if I couldn’t talk clinically, detached from the emotion.

  “Our relationship became more and more serious, and I started noticing little things about him. He was always unhappy when I wanted to hang out with my friends. He would always scare away any other guy who tried to speak to me.

  “He graduated, and bought his own apartment, and we started spending time there, barely ever going out like normal couples. We were co-dependant. I stopped seeing my friends, spending time with my family. Jared became my life. The only person he ever allowed near me on his side was Devin, and that was because they were practically brothers.”

  And yet he testified against him, because being brothers doesn’t mean one of you can’t be a horrific, grotesque example of a human being.

  Asher was silent. I was afraid to peek at him, see how he was absorbing all of this. Clearing my throat, I continued. “My parents hated him. I pretty much lived with him, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was morphing into a completely different person. I was changing. It only got worse the first time he hit me, though.”

  A sharp inhalation of air accompanied my confession. I plowed on. “It became a pattern. He’d throw me against a wall, break a vase over my head, punch me- I think he also dragged me across his living room by my hair once because I wanted to go see my parents and he thought I was going to meet a guy. After he did whatever he did, he’d apologize. He’d beg me not to leave him, sob that I was his only reason for being.”

  “Why did you stay with him?” Asher spoke for the first time, his voice carefully neutral. I resented his ability to sound calm when he wanted to. It was a quality I seriously lacked.

  I curled into an even tighter ball. “Because it wasn’t all bad times. We’d given each other everything, and…he needed me. I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I was aware what type of relationship I was in. And at first, before he muddled my mind, I intended to leave him.

  “The next day, I found him sprawled on the kitchen floor surrounded by empty bottles of pills. He’d tried to kill himself,” I laughed quietly. “The paramedics said he hadn’t taken a lethal dose, but it was close. So I stayed. And after a while, I forgot that this wasn’t the norm. I forgot that it could be different. I forgot myself to him. I thought everyone had to cover their bruises before school. I thought everyone was used to keeping a bag of ice handy. I thought everyone got called a slut, a useless waste of air, fat, dumb, you take a pick. �
�

  Here, I had to be careful. I couldn’t let slip what really happened that night. “One day, I woke up in the hospital. The doctors had searched my body and found signs of abuse. Bruises, you know, and I think I had a fractured wrist. My parents and brothers were hysterical, and the police arrested Jared. I tried to deny it, but by then it was too late. My parents could do the math. We were taken to court, and Jared’s parents bought him the best lawyers money could buy. They didn’t do it for Jared, they did it so their precious reputation wouldn’t be ruined. Although Devin testified for me, telling them about the time he’d walked in on Jared burning me with a hot poker and his interactions with Jared, his lawyers managed to plead insanity and send Jared to a cushy psychiatric center.”

  Silence ensued. I knew Asher had picked up on my omission of exactly what had landed me in the hospital, but he didn’t comment.

  “Want a Pop Tart?” I suggested, forcing some cheerfulness into my tone. “Because I want one.”

  Climbing off the couch, I walked into kitchen and extracted a few Pop Tarts. The silence was getting to be too much. As much as Asher and I fought, it had never felt this tense with us. I was getting worried. Why didn’t he say anything?

  I didn’t realize until I turned around and almost rammed into him that he’d followed me into the kitchen. “Pop tart?” I offered again.

  He snatched the plate from my hands and set it on the counter. “Is this how you deal with something painful? You ignore it?”

  I frowned in contemplation, then shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  He retreated a few steps and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s cowardly.”

  And just like that, I was ticked. Generally, I was a very mellow person, but Asher had the unique ability to incense me like no one else. “What do you expect me to do? Embrace it? I’ve had plenty of time to deal with it. I’m perfectly fine.”

  He studied me as I stomped to the plate of Pop Tarts and stuffed one in my mouth.