Chapter 17
LEX
Ashmoor Hall - Wexley University
Listening to another Coach Javi meltdown.
“No! No! No!” Javi’s screeches blare through the hallway of Ashmoor, completely drowning out the Latin beats pumping through Knox’s speakers.
“Fuck.” I wince as we move closer to the door. “You still want to go in there?”
“It’ll be fine,” Cade says, but even his face looks scared as shit.
We throw open the door to the studio to find Javi perched on a folding chair, waving his infamous clipboard of doom. The guy’s barking orders left and right in Spanish at the very frightened, very exhausted, Legacy freshmen.
The wall-to-wall mirrors catch his reflection, making the room look like one of those kaleidoscopes Babushka Tatiana used to give Rez and I for our birthdays. Only this time, instead of rainbow glitter and golden stars, it’s full of panicked dancers and one very dramatic Barcelonan.
“?Madre mía! Fix your turns!” Javi yells. “Every dancer on this team has learned this routine and if you four can’t figure this out, I swear on my abuela’s grave, I’ll lose my mind.”
“Goddamn,” I whisper. “I thought Rico was bad.”
Cade nods as the doors click shut behind us.
Knox kills the music with a smooth flick of a button.
“Ah!” Ellie squeals as she jogs over to us, her skin glittering under the studio light.
“You guys came!” Haley adds before they both wrap us up in a quick and sweaty group hug.
“Lex? Cade?” Javi beams, his arms fluttering.
The poor bastard almost topples off the chair.
“Take five girls. Actually no,” he snaps, dismissively flicking his wrist at the freshmen.
“Go into the corner and suffer with your technique. Work on those turns! I’ll be damned to the lowest circle of hell if my dancers cannot figure out simple shines!
This is salsa ladies, not a stumble. Go! ”
The girls scatter off in a flash of burgundy and black.
Javi turns to us. “Any updates?”
I shake my head. “Still waiting on the next round of his game.”
Javi sets his clipboard down, muttering something vicious in Spanish. “If I ever get my hands on that man.”
“Same,” I add.
Javi softens, just a touch. “I’m glad you two are here. It’s good to see your faces.” He nudges me with his elbow. “Rico will be furious when he finds out he missed you.”
I force a quick nod.
“Miss Whitmore,” Javi barks suddenly, snapping his fingers toward Ellie who’s still wrapped around Cade. “You’re up mija. Let’s show these boys how you’re going to win us Wexley’s first World Championship.”
Ellie saunters out barefoot to the center of the dance floor as Knox cues up her set.
“How’s your face?” Briggs asks Cade.
“Better than my spine,” Cade answers, sitting down next to him.
I take the empty seat on the other side of Briggs. “You two are talking?” I ask, raising a brow at the both of them.
Cade nods. “Yeah Caleb came down to The Pit and helped me with my form.”
The lights dim to a soft pale-pink as the first notes of Lindsey Stirling’s “Shatter Me” fill the space.
“Wait,” I say, leaning over and glancing across Briggs to see Cade. “I thought Khoza was—”
“Hush,” Briggs whispers. “I love this one.”
He pulls out his phone to video, his golden-brown eyes never leaving Ellie as she moves with an elegant grace.
“I bet I’ve seen this dance so many times in our livin’ room but damn,” he says as we watch her go into this long, reaching gazelle-jump move.
She lands in a tight spin that makes even my muscle-bound ass lean back in appreciation.
“Each time I see it, it still takes my breath away,” he whispers.
I fucking get it. It’s the same way I feel every time I watch Bella do one of these soft and sweet fairy dances.
“Wait,” I say, my brain finally registering his words. “Did you just say our living room?”
“Yep,” Briggs answers. “Rented an apartment a while ago. I was about to shoot myself in the foot if I had to spend one more night at Rosethorne with all those screamin’ Legacy gals running around all hours of the night.”
I laugh, but before I can speak a flicker of pale-blond movement catches my attention.
Rez’s feet are burning a line into the floor along the back wall.
His arms are folded, one hand firmly planted on his chin.
He’s got his gaze locked and loaded on Ellie’s feet.
Watching the way she pivots. Studying the timing of her turns and the angle of her upper body.
“Damn. Hales was right,” Cade mutters. “Rez does look like a pacing wolf back there.”
Briggs stifles a laugh, nearly dropping his phone to the floor.
Haley runs over to Rez and the two of them start whispering. Both glancing at Ellie, then point to a turning sequence she just landed. Rez says something to her and motions to Javi for her to go relay it.
Haley darts over to Javi, leaning up to whisper something in his ear.
“Cut the music!” Javi yells at Knox. “Say that again, Hales.”
“Well,” Haley says, eyeing between Rez and Ellie. She gestures toward the back. “Rez noticed it first. It’s honestly his suggestion. We think she should do that final pirouette to the right instead of the left and then let herself collapse down to the floor.”
Javi blinks once. Then twice.
He turns slowly to Rez, narrowing his eyes. “Is that so?”
“It just looks off.” Rez shrugs, all casual. “Then Haley said El’s right-side dominant, so it makes sense. Thought it might flow better was all.”
“Hmm,” Javi hums, his hands planted firmly on his hips. “I hate to admit it, Miss Whitmore, but the Russian Ken doll might be correct.”
“Oh my God!” Knox shouts, completely losing it from the sound booth. “I’m so gonna use that for your next fight night intro, Rez.”
“Pipe down Discount-DJ,” Javi snaps, shooting Knox a heated look over his shoulder.
“Woah!” Knox laughs into the mic, dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “Et tu, Javi?”
“Just cue it up,” Javi says, grinning. “Let’s try this again from the top and fix that last pirouette to the right.”
Ellie nods and gets into position.
“Rez,” Javi yells. “Any other suggestions?”
He hesitates before saying, “A few.”
“Then front and center. But just know, if this flops and she fails miserably it’s all on you.”
Rez walks up as the music starts. He runs the sequence with Ellie, helping her spin and collapse to the right this time. They add in a few other turns and moves I don’t know the name of. I’m no professional dancer or any shit like that, but Rez’s way does look pretty damn good. Sexy, even.
Javi stands back and watches the two of them like a hawk, hands on his hips and bouncing slightly with the beat.
“Well shit, looks like the Russian Ken doll is quite the dancer after all, Javi. Maybe even better than you,” Knox calls out from the booth as the music ends, a smug grin growing wider with each word. “Better hope Rez isn’t comin’ for—.”
“Ah, sí claro,” Javi cuts him off, his voice high-pitched and vibrating with annoyance. “?Primero me insultas y luego me reemplazas?”
“Wait,” Knox snickers while pulling out his phone. “Sloooow down and say that again. I need to put it into my translation app.”
“It means first you insult me, then you replace me,” Javi says, pinching the bridge of his nose and tapping his toe on the dance floor. “Sometimes I wonder if your DJ skills are worth all the hassle.”
“You know you love me,” Knox says, blowing Javi a kiss.
The studio bursts into scattered laughter.
“However,” Javi says, turning his attention to Rez. “I could use an assistant that knows their shit and won’t sob into their clipboard every time I correct their posture. Any chance you’re looking for a job?”
Rez raises a brow, but just shakes his head. “Couldn’t pay me enough.”
“Pity,” he says, tracing a finger down his clipboard. “Okay, seniors. Show me what you’ve got for senior night.”
The girls head out to the floor to begin their routine.
Briggs elbows me. “Hey, I’ve been meanin’ to ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
“I know you’ve got Mac and Rez on dancer detail, but Ellie really wants me to go with her to Paris.”
“And you’re asking me for permission? I’m touched,” I say, smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“Aren’t you like the leader of this whole assignment?” Briggs asks, all business.
“Right!” Cade busts out laughing. “Lex, the new leader of the Black Books.”
“I don’t hate the sound of it,” I say, shrugging. “But no, I don’t give a shit if you go to Paris as long as you keep Little Whitmore safe.”
“I will.” He nods. “Thanks.”
“So, since you are the newest member of the Trifecta boyfriend club—I’ll get you your membership card soon,” I tease. “We should probably figure out who the hell you actually are.”
“Membership card?”
“And shirt,” Cade adds, finger pointed in the air. “A Rico special he made us last fall.”
“Of course he did,” Briggs laughs. “But, okay yeah. What all do you wanna know?”
“Well considering my boyfriend was all ‘oh no my sister loves a gunrunner’ the other day,” I say dramatically while winking at Cade. “Maybe start there.”
“Hey,” Cade gripes. “I got over it.”
“Thanks to Haley,” I mutter.
Briggs huffs a quick chuckle. “Alright, I guess it’s no secret that I run the Ashen Sons out of Knoxville.”
We both nod.
“My grandfather, Ashen Briggs, started it years ago. Then my father took over when he died. And a while back when Dad got sick—”
“Oh I’m sorry,” Cade cuts in, his voice quiet.
“He ain’t dead yet. Just didn’t want to mess with any of it while he was goin’ through his treatments.”
“Makes sense,” I add.
“Yep. So it was up to me or one of my brothers to take over.”
“Brothers?” Cade asks.
“I’m a triplet,” he admits. “Like I said it was up to me, Ty, or Brett to take over. So Pops thought it would be a great idea to pin us against each other. To see who was better at the job, I guess.”
“Sounds like fun,” Cade laughs.
“Not exactly. He put the three of us on a clock. First one to get their shipments down to Mexico and back without any hiccups would take his place as head of the Ashen Sons.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“The hell you think happened? I fuckin’ won.”
We all laugh as the senior’s performance comes to an end.
“?Bravo!” Javi cheers from back up in his chair, looming over the dancers, waving and snapping his fingers. “Alright, Legacy. Halftime prep. ?Vamos!”
Everyone starts moving. Rez fades into the background, blending back into the mirrors. The Legacy girls form a loose circle in the center. Ellie and Haley step forward, leaving one empty spot in the formation.
Bella’s spot.
“I can’t do this.” I stand up and walk out of the studio before the second eight-count finishes.
The moment I’m outside of Ashmoor, the cold breeze slices through the heat still clinging to my skin. I grip the iron rail beside the steps and attempt to force some air into my lungs.
Breathe, Barinov.
My hands won’t stop shaking. I fish out a cigarette, light it, and let the first drag scrape down my throat. It burns like hell, but at least it’s something I can control. The buzz dulls the shakes. A little.
“You good?” Cade asks. His voice is annoyingly calm as he steps up behind me.
I exhale smoke and don’t look at him. “No, Cade. I’m not fucking good.”
He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands there beside me like a statue while I stare off across campus.
I take another hit. “This all just… I can’t… Fuck, I can’t do this.” I shove off the railing, pacing now. “I can’t just keep pretending everything’s fine.”
“I know,” he whispers.
“Do you?” I snap. “Because you seem pretty fucking zen for someone whose girl’s been missing for two damn weeks.”
“That’s not fair,” he bites back. “Just because I don’t lose my shit in front of everyone, doesn’t mean I’m alright.”
“Lose my shit?”
“You just stormed out in the beginning of the girl’s set.”
“What was I supposed to do?” I whip around. “Just sit there and clap while they danced like she’s not gone? Like there isn’t an empty goddamn space on that stage where she should be.”
“I just thought that—”
“I know what you thought!” I choke on a bitter laugh. “Be there for them. Be there for the family. Blah, blah, fucking blah.”
“Lex.”
“Don’t Lex me,” I growl, my voice cracking. “We need her back.” I sigh, the fight suddenly leaking out of my limbs. “Fuck, babe. I can’t breathe without her.”
“I know.” He softens. “God, I know.”
My knees threaten to give out, and I sag against him. All the hot fury in me slowly evaporates, replaced by a cold and heavy ache.
Cade catches me. He wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face in my neck. I let him hold me, just for a while. Just long enough for the darkness to creep back under my skin where it belongs.
After my chest finally stops heaving, he reaches over and gently plucks the cigarette from my hand. He tosses it to the ground and stomps it out under the toe of his shoe.
“You gotta quit that shit, babe.”
I huff a laugh. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll quit when we get her back.”
“Just know,” he says, pulling me closer. “I’m going to hold you to that.”