“Stop it. You’ll give me a big head,” I joke, secretly pleased at her glowing praise.
“Nah. You’re not the type.” She pulls me to a halt a few feet away from our parent’s car. “I want you to know how good you are, Kotabear. Like seriously talented. And I want you to promise that you’ll never give up your dream. That you’ll always dance.”
“That’s easy,” I say. “Because I’m not ever planning to stop dancing.”
I drop to my knees, ripped apart by the memory. Grief is funny like that. How it can sneak up on you and waylay you all over again when you’re least expecting it.
God, how I wish Layla was here right now. Tears slowly roll down my face, and I give in to them. If Layla were here she’d know how to handle Dad and how best to support Mom, removing the burden of responsibility from me. She always instinctively knew what do to, and she just naturally took charge.
I was happy to let her lead, to handle all the difficult stuff, while I floated through life as if I hadn’t a care in the world.
I look up at the dark sky through blurry eyes. “Why did you have to leave?” My silent tears transform to audible sobs. “I miss you so much.” I rub a hand across my aching chest, rocking back and forth on the ground, my knees grazing debris on the dirty roof. A heavy weight presses down on my chest, and any relief I felt tonight has disintegrated, along with my resolve.
I don’t know if I have strength to face what I need to tomorrow.
If I can step up and do what I need to do for my mother.
Clutching my arms around myself, I shed more tears. Crying for the loss of my sister, the devastation tearing my family apart, and the abandonment of my dreams.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ShawnLevi
I punch in his number with shaky hands, wishing I could’ve taken some liquid courage first. Tonight is the closest I’ve come to breaking my sobriety, and it took every ounce of willpower to avoid reaching for a bottle. I’m not sure if Matt will even accept my call, but I’ve got to at least try.
“Hello.”
Bile floods my mouth as my ex-buddy answers the call. His voice is deeper than I remember, but it’s still familiar. “Hey, Matt. It’s Shawn.”
Deafening silence filters through the connection.
“What the fuck do you want?” he hisses after a bit.
“To talk. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
He snorts. “You expect me to believe that? You cut me out of your life, out of the life we made together, ignore me for five years straight, and then you just call out of the blue to talk for no reason?” He huffs. “What kind of idiot do you take me for?”
Nausea churns in my gut. “I’m sorry, dude. More than you could ever realize.”
“Save your fucking apologies, Shawn. You’re too Goddamned late.”
“If I could go back, I’d do everything different.”
He snorts again. “Like what? Screw us over even more?”
“I would fight for you and Nick. I’d tell the label to go fuck themselves. That we come as a package.”
“What a pity you don’t have a time machine.” He sneers, bitterness creeping into his tone. “Even with all your riches, there are some things money can’t buy. Like forgiveness.”
“If I could make it up to you, I would.”
“What is this really about, Shawn? What do you want? Because I know you’re not calling out of the goodness of your heart.”
“Are you happy, man? I heard you’re with Abigail, and I hope she makes you happy.”
He barks out an incredulous laugh. “This is about my woman? News flash, buddy. She can’t stand you either. And she’s told me everything about the life you lead now. Almost makes me glad I got out of that scene. You’re a pathetic asshole, Shawn, and the music you’re making is crap. I’m glad I’m no longer associated with you, and if this is some pitiful attempt to mend bridges so you can feel better about stabbing your two best buds in the back, you won’t get absolution from me. I used to love you like a brother, but you’re dead to me now. You died the minute you sold your soul to the devil.” He pauses for a quick breath. “Don’t contact me again. And stay the hell away from Abby.”
The flat dial tone confirms he hung up. Dropping my cell on the couch, I get up, scrunching fistfuls of my hair as I pace my living room. “Fuckkkkkkkk!!” Frustration and rage boil my blood, and I pummel my fist into the wall, hitting it over and over until my knuckles bleed and there’s a fist-sized hole in the plasterwork.
My cell vibrates, but I ignore it, resting my forehead against the wall as Matt’s hurtful words penetrate deep. Everything he said was true, and I can’t fault him for his anger. I deserve it. I was a shitty friend, and he deserved better. Both he and Nick did. The cell pings again, and Devin’s name flashes on the screen. I snatch it up. “What?” I bellow, taking my frustration out on him.
“Are you okay?”
“What the fuck do you think?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Told you it was a bad fucking idea.” I start pacing again. “I need a fucking drink so bad!”
“Call your sponsor.”
“No.”
“Do you want me to come over? Or send my guy in to you?”
“No! I don’t need a fucking babysitter! I need to drink myself into oblivion so I can’t think about this shit anymore.”
I need my Mom. And I don’t care if that makes me sound like a pussy.
“I get it. I totally do,” Devin says. “I’ve been teetotal since I was eighteen, and most days I still crave alcohol, especially at times of stress. Been on the brink of going there more times than I can count, but I always manage to resist, and you can too. Believe in yourself. Believe you’re strong enough.”
“It’s easier for you. You have a lot to lose if you fall off the wagon. I’ve already lost everyone and everything that matters to me.”
“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it. The first few years I was sober were hell on earth for me. I’d lost everyone and everything that mattered to me too, but I never gave up fighting. Never stopped hoping that I’d get my life back the way I wanted it, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to achieve that constantly drunk or high.” His lecture dies out, and silence engulfs us. “Take some advice from someone who’s been in your shoes. Quit feeling sorry for yourself and actively do something to take back control of your life.”
“What the hell do you think I’m doing in fucking Iowa!!” I roar. “This is me trying to take back control.”
“Well, remember that the next time you feel like caving. Remember your goals and never stop fighting for them.”
My anger ebbs a little. It’s not him I’m mad at—it’s all me.
“It definitely sounds like Matt’s harboring a grudge,” Devin supplies, switching the subject. “I’m going to send a couple of men to shadow him for a while, and we’ll investigate further.”
“Fine. Do what you need to.” I don’t wait for him to respond. I just hang up. Heading to the bathroom, I rub ointment on my grazed knuckles while I attempt to calm the hell down.
Man, I want to be mad at Devin for forcing me to call Matt, but I can’t take my frustration out on him. Not even with the fact I still need to call Nick, and I’m probably in for more of the same. I was supposed to call them both tonight, but I’m putting the second call off until I’ve calmed down. I’m too scared if I call him and it goes the same way as Matt that I’ll cave to my craving and drown my sorrows at the bottom of a bottle.
Instead, I take my guitar out and play some of my earlier stuff—songs that were a little immature, a little unpolished, but more real than my latest releases. Strumming the strings, I belt out the words, pouring my heart and soul into the lyrics, trying to remember a time when I still had hope, when I still felt like the world was my oyster and I still had my two best buddies b
y my side.
Now that I’ve had time to reflect on it, everything turned to shit the minute they were gone. They were more than my best buds, my brothers. They were my connection to real life. To my sanity. Without them as my anchor, I quickly floundered.
I move to the window seat at midnight, like I still continue to do, even though my beautiful midnight dancer hasn’t shown up in a week.
Dakota must really hate my guts now.
Even though it’s what I wanted, what I knew would happen when I deliberately gave her the cold shoulder, it’s killing me inside. Staying away from her is like denying my body the oxygen it needs to survive, but I had to do it. I had to let her believe I’m a lying, selfish prick who says one thing and does another.
Dakota accepted it so quickly it hurts.
But there’s no point crying about it after the fact.
I know I did the right thing by pushing her away because my heart is already invested, and if I didn’t put a stop to it, I would’ve taken it all the way. I wish I could go there with her. I want to peel back her layers and discover all her hidden pieces, but I won’t place her in harm’s way.
Until my stalker is captured, bringing anyone new into my life is risky, especially a girl with the power to unravel me.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it or that it’s any easier to stomach knowing I’ve done a selfless thing.
I still crave her as much as I crave a high. Probably more. Which is all kinds of sick and twisted.
A flash of light across the way has me pressing my nose to the glass. A shiver dances up my spine as I spot Dakota warming up. A thrill washes over me at the sight of her, making a mockery of my inner musings. This girl is under my skin so deep I wonder if I can ever get her out.
I’m mesmerized anew as she starts moving, hooked on the way her body sways to the music. I wish I was back down there so I could watch her up close and personal. So I could soak up the energy and comfort her closeness brings.
I start playing my new song, and more words surge to the forefront of my mind.
Dancing through the starry night sky
Like an angel without wings
Your pain speaks to mine, and I need this connection
To feel something I’ve never believed in
But I’m no good for you
Afraid I’ll take you down with me
When all I want is to build you back up
To see the light shine in your blue eyes once again
I’m so caught up in the creative process that I don’t notice the exact moment she falls apart. When I glance over at the roof, my breath falters in my chest at the sight of Dakota on her knees, rocking back and forth. I run to my bedroom and retrieve a set of binoculars. I don’t make a habit of using these, as that’s taking stalkerish tendencies to a whole, new worrying level, but I need to see her face, to know if she’s okay.
She’s not.
She’s sobbing her heart out, and it guts me.
I can’t stand by while she’s wracked in pain.
Despite what I’ve promised myself, I know I have to go to her. I can’t bear to leave her dealing with this alone. She’ll probably tell me to go fuck myself, but I can deal once I know she’s not there alone.
I fly out of the apartment and across the road, my bodyguard trailing silently behind me. Entering the abandoned building, I take the steps two at a time. Her tortured cries tickle my eardrums before I’ve even emerged on the roof. I walk in front of the lamp, so I don’t startle her, sinking to my knees in front of her. “Dakota.” I’m expecting her to fling obscenities at me, but instead she flings herself into my arms.
Not that I’m in any way complaining.
I hold her while she cries, smoothing my hand up and down her back, running my fingers through her silky hair.
“I can’t do this,” she whimpers after a while. “I can’t do this and still know how to breathe.” I don’t question or interrupt her in any way, content to let her purge whatever she needs to purge. “Why did she have to die?” she whispers, fresh tears spilling out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. “Why did she have to leave me?” She looks directly into my eyes, and I wish I had the answers she seeks. “I miss her so much, and I can’t stand this pain anymore. I don’t know how to go it alone.”
I brush damp strands of hair off her face. “You’re not alone. You have friends. And you … you have me.”
Fuck it.
I can’t continue to lie to myself and her.
To deny how much I want and need her in my life.
She circles her arms tighter around me, burying her face in my neck. She shivers in the cool night air, and I hold her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “My apartment is only across the road. Let me take you there until you’re ready to go back to your dorm. It’s quiet and private, and you can take as much time as you need.”
I’m expecting her to shoot me down, but, once again, she takes me by surprise, clinging to me tighter, and she whispers in my ear. “Okay.”
I stand up, gently placing her on the ground while I gather up her stuff. Keeping her tucked under my arm, I steer her out of the building, and we make our way to my penthouse with my arm wrapped around her shoulder the entire time.
She wanders through the main living space, holding her arms around herself as she inspects my place.
“Can I get you anything to eat or drink?” I ask.
She spins to face me, and, at the sight of her sad, tearstained eyes, I want to rush to her side and sweep her into my arms, but I manage to restrain myself.
“Some water would be good,” she murmurs, her voice hoarse from all the crying.
I grab two bottles of water and a bag of chips from the cupboard. I don’t have much in the way of food, preferring to eat on campus or grab takeout on my way home. Setting the drinks and chips down on the coffee table, I walk to her side and tentatively take her hand, gently pulling her to the couch. A shiver rolls through her, and I grab a blanket from the other couch, offering it to her.
She wraps it around her slim shoulders, and I try not to ogle her formfitting yoga pants and top. “Thank you,” she whispers, taking small sips of her water.
I twist around on the couch so I’m facing her, kicking off my sneakers and pulling my feet up under me. She follows my guide, and we stare shyly at one another, neither of us knowing what to say.
I want to help her, but I’m not sure how. I decide to test the waters. Clearing my throat, I take her empty hand, pleased when she curls her tiny fingers through mine. “I don’t want to pry or upset you, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. If you want to talk about it, then I’m all ears. Sometimes, talking helps.”
“I …” She trails off and looks away.
I put my bottle of water down and gently cup her face. “I also owe you an apology.” She peers into my eyes, and I see so much trust there, waiting for an opportunity to be earned. “I was ignoring you on purpose because I thought it was for the best. I’ve tried to stay away, because I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t stay away anymore. I want to be here for you. As a friend or something more, that’s up to you to decide. But I want you to know I’m sorry for pushing you away, for making you think you didn’t matter, and I’m done with that now.” I bring her hand to my mouth and press a kiss on her soft skin. “I’m here for you. In whatever way you need me.”
She gulps, and tears pool in her eyes as she scoots forward, reaching out to run her fingers through my hair. Her touch feels so unbelievably good, and I have to smother a groan and hide the growing semi in my jeans.
“I need to tell someone. To tell you. Before I explode,” she softly admits.
“You can tell me anything, and I promise it’ll stay between us.” I caress her cheek.
She gulps again, but a glimmer of resolve flashes in her glassy eyes. “A littl
e over a year ago, my sister was murdered, and everything has turned to crap since then.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dakota
“Shit, I’m so sorry, Dakota. I can’t even begin to imagine how awful that is.” Levi’s expression and his tone are nothing but sincere.
“We were completely different, in almost every conceivable way,” I start explaining, “but we were so close. Always had been. Layla was only fifteen months older than me, and she was my best friend, my staunchest supporter. She always told me to follow my heart, to never give up on my dreams.” I sniff, smiling as I remember all of my sister’s amazing qualities.
“If I hadn’t known her as well as I did, I might’ve thought she chose the path she did to spare me, but it wasn’t like that. Layla knew her own mind and followed her own destiny. It just so happened that she was the responsible one, where I rebelled. That she wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps and take the helm of his company, while I dreamed of dancing on the world stage. She was practical where I was impulsive. She was self-controlled where I had very little.”
He smiles at me.
“What?” My brow puckers.
“You say you’re rebellious, impulsive, and lacking in self-control like those are turnoffs.”
I shake my head, smiling in return. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was always confident in who I was, just that it was the opposite spectrum to Layla. She was the good girl to my bad girl. If anything was going to happen to one of us, it should’ve been me! I was the one who regularly threw caution to the wind while she was so careful, and still he found her.” My voice tapers off, and I shiver all over.
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