Jordan Reclaimed

by Scarlett Cole

  “You’re my everything, Aleksandra,” he said, beginning to slide in and out of her again. “Everything I didn’t know I wanted or needed. Everything I didn’t think I could have.”

  Her orgasm exploded from deep inside, dragged out as Jordan continued to pound into her. His body tensed. “I . . . love you . . . too,” he whispered as he came deep inside her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Jordan sat in the taxi, one arm around Lexi’s shoulder as she dozed against him, one hand fiddling with the square pendant of the necklace she had given him the previous morning for Valentine’s Day. It was a black square with a thunder bolt on it.

  As she’d given it to him, she’d fiddled with the necklace she always wore with a lightning bolt on the end. Thunder and lightning always go together. And you told me that you are the dark to my light. You can hear thunder but you can see lightning, as people hear your music but see me dance.

  He’d hugged the shit out of her, and perhaps fucked her. Twice. Once to say thank you for the gift, the other to apologize for not getting her one. She’d chastised him, told him the whole trip was one giant Valentine’s gift. He couldn’t believe that in all the chaos of packing up at her father’s she’d remembered his gift, but he intended to make it up to her one way or another.

  At her request, he’d steered clear of conversations about her father and the practicalities that were going to follow once they were back, but as the roofline of his home came into view, he knew they were going have to deal with some hard realities.

  It was four in the afternoon when they pulled into the driveway. He hadn’t been ready to leave their tropical hideaway, but Lexi needed to return to rehearsals the following day and they needed to sort out her belongings.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said, shaking her gently. There was more color in her face, but her cheekbones looked even more angular than usual, and her eyes were marred by dark circles. She hadn’t eaten much while they were away, even though he’d tried his best to tempt her daily with delicious tropical fruits. One evening he’d taken her to a place where they served the freshest lobster, but she’d only picked slowly at her food. The stress and shock had obviously affected her, but now that they were home, he was determined to get her back to perfect health.

  “Mmm,” she said, stretching. “I was dreaming I was back by the infinity pool drinking champagne.”

  “You want more champagne, I’ll get you some,” he said, tugging on her ponytail playfully. He paid the driver and slid out of the car while the driver got the suitcases out of the trunk. As Jordan helped Lexi out of the car, she lost her balance, wavering a little before finding her feet again.

  “Must be jetlag or something.” She laughed it off, but the nagging voice that had encouraged him to watch what Lexi had eaten over the last couple of days returned. She’d barely eaten anything since their early breakfast. And even then, she’d stuck to egg whites and spinach when she could have had anything she wanted.

  When they walked into the house, everyone was in the family room—and by everyone, he really did mean every single person who was important to him. He caught Dred’s attention first. “You do know you don’t live here anymore?” he said, crouching down to pick up Petal, who squealed as soon as she saw him. “Hey, baby girl,” he said, kissing her cheek over and over until she giggled. “Did you miss me?”

  “Funny,” Dred said, standing up to slap him on the back. “Hey, Lexi,” he said, kissing her cheek.

  Ellen and Maisey sat on the sofa next to each other. “Lennon invited us all over for dinner,” Maisey said.

  Jordan looked toward the kitchen, where Lennon was stirring something in a large pan. Ninety percent of the time, the guy was an ass, but every now and then he’d pull shit like this. Lennon shrugged when their eyes met.

  “I’m Maisey, and you must be Lexi. I’m thrilled to meet you, sweetheart.” Maisey stood to hug her, and it squeezed Jordan’s heart, which already felt fuller than he could possibly imagine. Just like that, two of the most important women in his life met and, for once, the earth felt stable beneath him.

  “You too,” Lexi said. “Jordan’s told me a lot about you and the impact you had on his life, so it’s wonderful to finally meet you in person.”

  Ellen was next in line to offer Lexi a similar greeting. While she was waiting, she squeezed Jordan’s cheek, like she used to do when he was a child, before giving him a little pat.

  “Oh, you give me so much hope, Jordan,” she said. Jordan rolled his eyes at her for effect, but deep inside, he understood what Ellen meant.

  Petal, who was now eager to walk, fought to be put down, so Jordan lowered her to the ground, where she clung to his legs and toddled around and around him, holding herself up by tugging on his jeans. Good thing he’d put a belt on.

  “How was Jamaica?” Nikan asked as he walked in from the kitchen where he’d been helping Lennon.

  “Wonderful,” Lexi said. “I don’t think I’ve ever stayed anywhere quite so beautiful.”

  “Hey, can I borrow Lexi for a moment?” Pixie said, taking Lexi by the hand. “Girl talk and all that.”

  He watched them walk through the wide archway to the game room on the other side of the hall where he could see them, but not hear their conversation. Pixie reached for Lexi’s hands.

  “She wants to talk to her about dealing with the abuse,” Dred said, slinging an arm around Jordan’s shoulder. “She regrets not doing something about her own sooner. We’re having a really hard time convincing anyone to add the historical abuse she suffered as a kid at her stepdad’s hands to his charges. Even our lawyer says it will just muddy the waters of the attempted-kidnapping trial. But she lived through it, you know. And has a heart bigger than this house.”

  Jordan saw Lexi wipe her eyes as Pixie pulled her into a hug.

  “I don’t know how you persuaded her to marry you,” he said, trying to steer a way out of the emotional wreck he was fast becoming.

  “Me either,” Dred answered. “I intend to do it as quickly as possible, though, before she changes her mind.”

  “Lucky fucker,” Jordan said, watching as Pixie pulled out her phone, probably taking down Lexi’s number.

  “Yeah, well, we pulled the goalie,” Dred said, picking Petal up. “Her idea to ditch the condoms, although as soon as she said it, I was all over that shit.” Dred grinned. “This one”—he kissed his little girl and smoothed the wisps of hair that brushed her forehead—“has given Pix ideas about a big family of our own.”

  He turned to Dred, could feel the happiness flowing from his brother.

  “It’s amazing how things change so quickly, isn’t it?” Jordan looked at Lexi. He’d only known her for nearly two months, but for a moment he imagined what she’d look like pregnant. She’d look glorious, he knew, with a cute little bowling-ball tummy, the life they’d created together tucked inside it. He’d sing to it every night. They’d move out, get their own place with more rooms.

  Get their own place. It was the first time he’d considered living away from the guys without it hurting.

  And for the first time ever he considered what his life might be like with his own kids in it. Kids running up the porch calling out his name. Little League. Teaching them to ice-skate. Christmas mornings. Birthdays. Fuck. A real life.

  But depression, to the best of his knowledge, was part hereditary, and there’d been no father figures in his life to help him along or teach him how to be a parent. Babysitting Petal every now and then was completely different from having kids of his own. He tried to squeeze the idea back into the box of things he never thought about, but it fought him the same way Petal did when she didn’t want to put tights on.

  “Dinner!” Lennon called, placing a large pot on the counter. “Chili, rice, garlic bread, salad. Take your plate and your pick.”

  Everyone made their way to the counter, helping themselves to the food Lennon had made. Jordan watched Lexi fill her plate with mostly salad, a sad little pile of ri
ce, and no chili or garlic bread.

  Maisey came up behind him, but he stepped to one side to allow her to step in front of him. Manners and all that.

  “Is she okay?” Maisey asked quietly.

  “I don’t think she is, but I hope she will be.” Jordan took a large spoonful of rice. “She isn’t eating, Maisey. I thought it was stress, but what if it’s something more?” It was the first time he’d allowed himself to voice his fear, and his stomach tightened.

  “Then you’ll seek help and sort it out together. All you can do is be observant and patient.”

  “I think this thing with her dad broke her a little,” he said, adding chili and garlic bread to the bowl on his plate.

  Maisey poured dressing on her salad. “As Hemingway once said, ‘The world breaks everyone, and afterward many are strong at the broken places.’”

  Jordan grabbed a fork and a napkin. “So it’s as simple as that? It’s time for me to become strong?”

  Maisey put her plate down, reached up to Jordan’s face, and held it. “Oh, Jordan, don’t you see? You’ve always been the strongest one.”

  * * *

  There were few ballets that Lexi disliked dancing, but Orpheus was one of them. Which was ironic, because Violette Verdy dancing Eurydice, the role she was rehearsing, in Balanchine’s 1960s version, was one of her most favorite performances to watch. Ever.

  But it was more depressing to her than dancing Romeo and Juliet because as Eurydice she had to die twice. Once running from Aristaeus, and the other after Orpheus fails to keep his promise to Hades by turning around to look at her on the steps out of the underworld. Her earlier rehearsal with François, who was dancing Aristaeus, had gone well, and she knew it was because they had danced with each other recently in The Nutcracker. Rehearsal with Vladimir on the other hand, who was playing Orpheus, was awful.

  “Okay, I want more fluidity in the arms as you go up, Lexi; and Vladimir, perhaps hold the hips a little higher to help keep her straight in the air. On my count. Piano, please,” the ballet master said.

  Lexi prepared herself, executing the steps with an exacting precision until they got to the lift. With a low plié, she leapt into the air, but again Vladimir mistimed it. Lexi threw out her arms in the hope of catching hold of something or someone. Vladimir grabbed her around her waist in an attempt to break her fall, but they ended up on the floor without any pretense of grace. Lexi moved her hand to her head and rubbed the small bump she’d gotten.

  “Lexi, I’m sorry,” Vladimir said, jumping to his feet. He offered her his hand.

  “No, I think that was my fault.”

  “We have to work on this, Aleksandra. You’re right, there was something about your elevation that didn’t quite work. Try to leave the plié just a fraction sooner,” the ballet master said.

  Freaking elevation, again. Goddammit, she hated it when her father was right. Even with the weight she’d lost, her current weight was still causing problems for her partner. Thinking about him hurt. Not just physically, where the scabs from the cane were pulling underneath her dark dance clothes, but emotionally, in the dark recess of her heart. She’d try to convince herself not to think about him, but she couldn’t help it. The doctor was supposed to have come earlier in the week to see him, and she hadn’t even called the office to learn what had happened.

  They practiced over and over and over, barely stopping even for a moment until time was up. During her lunch, she stopped by the canteen to grab some food. Just an apple would suffice. Jordan had made her breakfast that morning, a large omelet with veggies and a huge pile of toast. She’d sat down and started to eat it, trying hard not to think about the fact that he’d used the full egg, not just the whites, and butter. He’d shoved toast in front of her too, which had smelled delicious. Her mouth had begun to water, and her resolve wavered so much so that she’d pretended she’d messed up her schedule and told Jordan she’d just received a calendar reminder. In a blur of activity, she’d jumped to her feet, kissed him on the cheek, and run from the house to catch the bus.

  Lexi ate her apple on the way to physio and stopped by the doorway of Prima, the largest of the dance studios, where Vladimir was beginning rehearsal with Li Yan for a performance that was taking place at Lincoln Center in the summer. Their lifts were way more complex than hers were, yet Vladimir didn’t seem to miss a beat.

  She jogged up the steps to physio just as Peter was walking down the hall.

  “Hey, Lexi. Ready to get started?” he asked, holding the door open for her.

  “Yes sir,” she said.

  “Okay, hop on up,” Peter said, tipping his chin in the direction of one of the treatment beds.

  Thirty minutes later, Lexi felt like a new woman. The stiffness in her ankle and the tightness in her calf were gone. She stood and moved her leg around. “That’s so much better. Thanks, Pete,” she said as she pulled up her warm-ups.

  “Can I walk out with you, Lex?” Peter asked.

  “Sure,” she said, leading the way. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve worked here twenty years,” he said in the hallway. His brow furrowed. “So, I’m not going to beat around the bush. You’re smarter than this, Lex.”

  Lexi’s stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?” she asked carefully.

  “Don’t make me spell it out,” he whispered, granting her that little bit of privacy. “I have my hands on your body on a weekly basis. You don’t think I see it when things are changing? When they are perhaps changing too much? Too fast? It’s not just fat, which you didn’t really have to spare. It’s muscle mass, too. You’re messing with your metabolism, and you know it.”

  “Pete, I just needed to—”

  “No. No excuses. What you need is to go back to what you were doing. It’s a slippery slope, Lexi, and I really don’t want to witness you slide down it.”

  Lexi slumped back against the wall. Of course he would see it. She could see it, so it made sense that everyone else could, but it was still her only option. “I’m not getting elevation,” she said, dejected by the admission.

  “And you thought what? Get a little lighter and it might happen?”

  The way he said it made it sound like the most ridiculous idea on Earth, that she was an idiot to even try it. “It’s fine, Pete. I just need to lose a little more. I’m going to stop when I—”

  “No. You are going to stop now,” Pete said, looking down the hallway as a door opened but nobody stepped out. He lowered his voice again. “Right now. And if you can’t stop on your own, you find someone who can help you stop.”

  “I have to get through Orpheus. My rehearsals with Vlad are just awful. And I just saw him lift Li Yan without difficulty.” It was so easy for Pete to stand there and judge her. He didn’t have to deal with the looks Vlad gave her, or the disappointment in the ballet master’s eyes. Or the way her father critiqued her thighs and compared them to every known successful ballerina.

  Pete stood up straight. “Two things. Speak to one of the ballet masters. Ask them for help. As for Vlad, well, I’m breaking every rule here, but he has a problem with his back that I suspect is way worse than he’s letting on. I don’t think this is even about you. Li Yan is about five inches shorter than you, and has a completely different frame.”

  Lexi ran her hands over her forehead and down her face.

  “Go home. Eat or get help. I’m giving you a week to figure it out, Lex. Then I’m going to involve the company.”

  “Fine, I’ll eat,” she conceded, just to get away from him. It wasn’t a problem. She could stop whenever she needed to. Plus, she was well over halfway to hitting her fifteen-pound goal. Perhaps if she just spent a little more time in the sauna and added some more evening cardio, she could get to her goal weight, then focus on staying there. She made a mental note to stay clear of physio until she achieved it. Then Pete wouldn’t be able to assess her.

  She hurried through the rest of rehearsal. It was full cast as they readied for Sleeping B
eauty. It was her favorite part of rehearsals, when all the moving pieces,—the solos, the pas de deux, and the corps—came together. It was hectic and sometimes a little frantic, but today she couldn’t stay focused because of what Peter had said. She really didn’t want to have to deal with the ballet over perceived problems when she was just trying to lose a little weight to improve her silhouette.

  A little voice reminded her that she’d originally done it to improve her lift, but she could now see multiple benefits.

  After rehearsal, she met Jordan at her home. They were to meet with Julia, the real estate agent, but she knew her father would make a scene so she wanted to get there first to avoid any embarrassing repeats of the previous week. Elliott’s car was parked in the driveway, and he and Jordan were sitting on the porch chairs. Every part of her was tense at the idea of Jordan fighting with her father, so she was pleased to have Elliott along for moral support.

  “Dad, are you home?” she shouted, opening the door.

  “Aleksandra,” her father said brusquely as she walked into the living room. “Ha. I knew you would be back.”

  Jordan and Elliott stepped to either side of her, flanking her. “Dad,” she said, grateful none of them could see the way her legs shook. “A realtor named Julia will be here soon to go through the house and help us figure out a plan to sell it.”

  Alexei stood quickly, eying the men suspiciously. “You were serious?”

  “Of course I was serious,” she said, her voice wavering. “Dad, you beat me with a cane. It doesn’t get more serious than that.”

  Her father shook his head and whistled through his teeth. “You are soft. I lived through much more severe punishment in—”

  “Russia. I know,” she said sadly. A small piece of her, she realized, had hoped that he’d seen the error of his ways. That caning her would have caused some huge introspection that would have led to at least an apology. “But we aren’t in Russia now. And I can’t forgive you for what you did.”