Chapter 28
EVELINA
“I swear, that woman embraces sadism more and more every day,” Milena groans, slumping against the lockers.
Naomi giggles. “She’s not—okay, yeah, she might be getting worse.”
All of us are beyond dead after a grueling rehearsal at the Mercury Theater, home of the Zakharova Ballet. And the "sadist" Milena is referring to is Madame Kuzmina, our artistic director.
I resist the urge to say that, yes, I agree that Kuzmina is a sadist, and I would know because I’ve been regularly getting the shit screwed out of me by one.
Today is supposedly a day off. But Kuzmina called a few of us in for a “special rehearsal” which devolved into her barking directions at us, on repeat, until we were all ready to collapse.
Lyra shakes her head as she peels off her sweaty dance gear and grabs a towel. “Have we considered that this might be a cry for help?”
Milena arches a brow “Pardon me?”
Lyra grins as she turns and starts to walk toward the showers. “Maybe she just needs to get laid,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Wait, do we know which team she's on?” Naomi asks as she turns on the nozzle next to Lyra.
“Straight,” Brooklyn pipes up as she finishes her own shower. “That's from Kir.”
Brooklyn’s much older boyfriend is Kir Nikolayev, head of the Nikolayev Bratva and the owner of not only the Zakharova Ballet itself but also the Mercury Theater that houses it.
He also has a totally platonic history with Magda Kuzmina.
But he’s extremely coy about it, and Brooklyn swears even she’s never gotten the full story.
“He, umm, confirm anything else?” Naomi asks hopefully.
“Nope, and believe me, I’ve tried,” Brooklyn sighs.
Milena grins as she turns her water off and wraps a towel around herself. “How hard?”
“Hard,” Brooklyn giggles.
I’m the last one to finish showering, because I’m also the last one to get into the showers. Today, like every day at the theater for the last few weeks, I’ve been trying to avoid letting people see me naked.
It’s not out of modesty. Even previous, innocent Evie didn’t have a problem changing in front of people. I mean, I’ve been dancing my entire life.
No, the current issue isn’t my body. It’s what Vaughn’s done to it.
Bluntly, I don’t want to have to explain to my friends why I’ve got vicious hand-and-thumb-shaped bruises all over me.
So, for the last few weeks, I’ve been conveniently on my phone while the rest of them get undressed, then get out of my ballet gear while they’re busy showering, wrap a towel around the evidence, and slip into the furthest stall once the rest of them are done and getting dressed again.
I realize it's not a long-term solution. But for now, it’s the best I’ve got.
I’ve still got a towel wrapped around me when the door to the woman’s dressing room bangs open so hard it almost rips off the hinges and Val comes storming in looking furious.
“Dude,” Brooklyn frowns. “What are you doing—”
“Everyone out,” he hisses lethally, his eyes piercing right into me. I pale as the room goes silent.
Milena glances around and clears her throat. “Uh, Val—”
“Everyone get the fuck out!” he roars.
Brooklyn’s brow furrows as she walks over to Val.
“Hey, buddy,” she says softly. “What's up? You’re freaking everyone out.”
His throat works. “I need to talk to her…” He points at me. “Alone. Now.”
Brooklyn glances at me. I nod. “Go ahead, guys. Yeah, Val and I need to talk.” I smile weakly. “A surprise for Roman,” I lie.
“Is the surprise Val turning into a fucking psychopath?” Milena mutters darkly.
Val draws in a breath. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I’m…I’ve got a lot going on up here.” He taps his head. “Brother shit.”
Milena snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, speaking of psychopaths.” She glances at me. “You want me to wait outside for you?”
I shake my head. “No, it's okay. Catch you guys later.”
The rest of them leave. Val glares at me in the silence.
“Val—”
“What the fuck, Evie!” he blurts. “VAUGHN?! Are you fucking high?!”
Crap.
“He told you?” I croak.
Val sneers. “Nope. But you just proved her right.”
My brow furrows. “Proved who right?”
“Sabine.”
I exhale. “Val—”
“Jesus, Evie,” he groans, shoving his tattooed fingers through his hair.
“First of all, I was going to tell you—” I begin.
“Bullshit.”
“Eventually,” I mumble. Then I frown. “And Sabine just told you to screw with me. She hates me.”
“She doesn’t love me, either,” Val growls. He exhales heavily as he looks at me. “But forget Sabine. Eves, are you kidding me? You’re fucking my brother?!”
“Hey, you’re screwing my brother!!” I hurl back.
“So this is, what, payback?”
“No!” I spit.
“Then why the fuck are you with him!” he hisses.
“Because I like him!!”
Whoa.
Too late to put that little dollop back in the toothpaste tube.
Val scoffs. “Not a chance. No one likes Vaughn.”
“He’s got those friends…?” I offer.
“No one who isn’t equally unhinged, I mean,” Val mutters.
I snort. “Sabine seems to like him,” I say venomously.
“Yeah,” Val snaps. “Because she’s just as fucking nuts as Vaughn and his band of lunatics!” He groans, shoving his fingers through his hair as he paces in a circle. “Fuck, Evie! You seriously lost your virginity to my brother?!”
I bite my lip, looking down as I pick my cuticles. “Does… Does Roman know?”
Val is quiet. When I look up, he’s still glaring at me.
“No,” he growls. “Not yet.”
I blink. “Is that a threat?”
“I’m not going to lie to your brother, Evie,” he frowns. “I can’t.”
“Val, please,” I beg. “I just… I want to tell him on my own terms.”
He exhales. “I understand. But if he asks before you're ready…” He looks at me ruefully. “I love you, Evie.” He shrugs wryly. “But I love Roman more.”
“Yeah, no…” I nod. “I get it.”
Val groans. “Okay, how about this: if he asks, I’m not going to lie. But, I won’t proactively tell him.” He levels a look at me. “You need to talk to him, though. I’m serious.”
“Thank you,” I exhale. “And I really will talk to him.”
Val nods and then looks away, raking his fingers through his shaggy hair again before he turns back to me. “Be careful, Eves,” he says quietly. “You don’t know what Vaughn’s capable of.”
“I—”
“No. Whatever you think you know, believe me, it’s not even half,” he says, his voice edged.
“Trust me on that, okay? I love my brother…” His throat bobs.
“But he’s fucking dangerous, and whatever is broken inside him is not anything you, or I, or anyone else should even think about trying to fix. You get what I’m saying?”
I nod. Then my brow furrows. “Hey, Val?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we…I mean… Are you and I okay?”
He sighs. “Yeaaaah, I guess.” He lifts his eyes to me, smirking. “I mean, I did fuck your brother first.”
I spot the black SUV waiting by the curb when I exit the alley behind the Mercury Theater with Val. But I wait until we've hugged goodbye and he's jogged off before I turn to it.
Vaughn opens the back door and steps out, impeccably dressed in a dark suit that fits him perfectly.
“Hi,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat as I smile. “Are you my ride?”
“Indeed,” he murmurs. “Your bags are packed and in the trunk, and I've got your passport.”
My brow furrows. “My passport? I thought you said this morning we were going to a ball.”
Vaughn slides his hand over my hip and pulls me close.
“Oh, we are,” he murmurs, looking deep into my eyes. “But the ball is in Paris.”