Chapter 46 Nothing Happened – Briar
NOTHING HAPPENED
brIAR
Now
My head is pounding. Like a hundred tiny ballerinas are simultaneously curb stomping my skull. Forcing my eyes open, I let out a groan when I’m assaulted by the bright sunlight streaming in. I shut them tight again, reaching for the blankets, pulling them up to cover my face.
The material is —soft? Plush even. My eyes fly open under the protection of the dark blanket, immediately hyperaware that I’m not at home. I’m not in my bed. My sheets are nowhere near this nice.
Panic surges and I brave the light, sitting up with a start. I regret it seconds later, when the sudden movement throws my head into the spins, my stomach rolling alongside it.
Shit. “Where am I?” The question is unnecessary because a half second later, I know exactly where I am. The room… familiar, his scent… everywhere.
“You’re in my bed,” a cool, dark, and overly familiar voice answers, and I close my eyes tight. The clipped tone triggering my memory.
His rejection.
“Right… okay.” I swallow, opening my eyes and doing a sweep of the room until I find Koen. He’s not in the bed. Instead, he’s leaning up against the window alcove, holding a cup of coffee. Fully dressed, his eyes are locked on me.
An awkward silence falls over us and I move to get out of bed, freezing when I realize I’m not wearing my dress—just my panties, since I went braless last night.
“Nothing happened.”
My eyes slowly rise to meet Koen’s.
Oh, I know.
I remember.
He brought me back to his apartment.
He brought me back to his apartment… Why?
Koen didn’t have much to say, tossing a pair of girls’ sweats at me before handing me over to be Mac’s problem for the day.
I don’t linger. I get dressed quickly, so I can get a ride back to my apartment to change before heading to the Conservatory for showcase rehearsals.
Mac attempts to start a conversation, but after a few times of me shutting him down, we ride together in silence.
I’m not in the best mental headspace. It turns out my memories from last night are patchy and my mood sours as I try to remember anything after we arrived at that club Koen brought me to, but there’s only bits and pieces.
‘Not interested,’ however, plays on repeat in my head.
The fact that I make it through rehearsals without triggering Mr. Carr’s radar is a goddamn miracle. But he’s distracted today, we’re in the theater and he’s busy berating the techs in charge of lighting to pay too much attention to what’s happening on stage.
I’m dehydrated. I can’t seem to get enough water; no amount of it is quenching my thirst. And I’m tired. My muscles feel weird, slow, and my balance is off, my timing is off—I’m off.
They’re playing with the lighting, and the constant on-and-off of the hot lights in my eyes has my brain pounding in time with the music. I fake a smile and get through it, but my mind is elsewhere.
Mr. Carr also reminds us about the benefit next week.
Shit. With everything going on, I’d almost forgotten.
“Mr. Carr?” I ask, slowly approaching him in the auditorium seats after rehearsals have wrapped for the day.
“Yes, Miss Ralston?” He doesn’t look up, too busy scanning the half-crumpled documents he’s holding in his hands.
“About the benefit?”
“Be there no later than seven thirty” he replies automatically, his eyes still on the papers.
“Right. I—uhm—I—”
His gaze snaps up, cool brown eyes locking on me. “Whatever it is, Miss Ralston, do spit it out. I’m busy.” He holds up the papers in his hands with an air of annoyance.
“Sorry,” I grimace. “I was just wondering if it was possible to get a ticket for a plus-one?”
“A plus-one?” he repeats, confused.
“Yes. For my—for my boyfriend.” I say the last part while masking my wince.
The benefit is a requirement for participating in the showcase.
It’s the Conservatory’s biggest fundraiser of the year.
The city’s elite pay big money to throw a party and meet the premiere dancers.
It’s a tradition that’s gone on for decades.
The only reason I’m facing this embarrassment is that I’m certain Koen won’t let me go, or if he does, he’ll insist on accompanying me.
The event is a big deal and there will be security everywhere. Without a ticket there’s no way he’s getting in, and without him, there’s no way I am either.
Mr. Carr turns up his nose in disgust at my mention of a boyfriend. “No, Miss Ralston. The dancers are not permitted to bring a plus-one. If your boyfriend would like to accompany you, he will have to buy a ticket.”
Right. I was afraid of that. I try not to wince, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Okay, thank you.” I spin on my heel, anxious to leave this conversation behind us.
With rehearsals over for the day, and given my current state, I should call it a day, go home, sleep whatever this is off, but me being me, I don’t. Of course I don’t. I stay. I push myself too far until sweat coats every inch of me and I struggle to catch my breath.
I’m in Studio C. It overlooks the street, and when I move by the window, I can see the dark SUV with its blacked out windows waiting outside.
I told Mac to stay outside, needing space from all things Koen, from this world I’d fallen down into, and he listened. I almost feel bad. He’s been out there all day; it’s late afternoon now.
My head hurts and I’m so tired. It’s still early, but I need sleep and a shower, possibly in that order. I start my cool down routine.
“Bella.”
I freeze at the sound of the voice at my back, my gaze snapping up to find Gio in the mirror. I twist quickly so I have him in front of me.
“You haven’t been answering my messages.”
My eyes drop for a fraction of a second to my dance bag by the door, where my phone’s been all day.
“I’ve been busy.”
He moves further into the studio, taking a look around but staying far away from the windows. At this angle, Mac won’t be able to see him. “And were you too busy last night too?”
I frown, not answering since he seems to already know the answer.
“I hear from a very good source that you and Koen O’Rourke are getting on… well.” He smirks. “You spent the night at his place last night.” He sniffs. “I’m impressed. Until he saw you, he had no interest in taking a little pet.”
I swallow. He’s watching me.
Of course he’s watching me. I’ve been so fixated on surviving Koen, I’ve almost forgotten to worry about Giovanni.
Sliding the towel down my face, I scowl at him. Someone from the club, obviously.
“I’m just doing what you asked,” I say, like I’m actually in control of any of this.
He smiles, turning to casually inspect the studio while keeping up his conversation with me. “The Irish want in on my operation. I need to know I can trust them.” He stops, giving me the full weight of his stare. “Have you seen any reason I should doubt them?”
“No,” I say. The lie rolls easily off my tongue. Koen told me he wants to take down Giovanni’s network. Telling Gio might get me out of Koen’s hands faster than expected, but if there’s a chance that what Koen told me is true… I need more time. I still don’t know if I can trust him.
Gio frowns. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
“Did you hear anything else that might be useful for me, Bella? He’s had you for a couple of days now.”
I shake my head, keeping the distance between us, moving in parallel with him around the studio. He stops, and I do too.
“Really, Bella?” His eyes narrow and I catch a glimpse of the real man inside. “You haven’t heard anything?”
I shrug, playing dumb. “I don’t think so.”
Gio sighs, pulling out his phone. A second later, I hear mine vibrate in my bag.
“You might want to check that.” I look at him, and his face is a cold mask, waiting for me.
Slowly, I walk over to my bag, drawing out my phone and unlocking it before navigating to the last incoming text message.
There’s no text, only a photo, and I swear my heart stops upon opening it.
“I think you might find you know more than you realize,” Giovanni hedges. His words feel like a bucket of ice water over my head but I can’t pull my eyes away from the photo.
It’s a picture of Remi. She has a big smile plastered across her face.
She’s running through a field I know all too well, sunlight reflecting off her blonde curls.
She’s wearing the new Breakers jersey Lily’s parents got for her the day before yesterday.
The one they sent me a photo of last night before I left with Koen.
“How did you get this?” I snarl, standing up and taking a few steps in his direction before thinking better of it. “You piece of shit.” I clutch my phone tighter to keep from chucking it at him. “You sold me to the mafia as collateral. I’m doing what you asked! You leave her out of it.”
He waives me off. “Ah Bella, always so dramatic. When you needed something, I was there for you, yes? Now I need something from you in return. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Yeah?” I’m standing in the middle of the studio now and he circles me, his Italian loafers echoing across the empty space.
“And I need information. And you—” he points at me, “—aren’t providing any. ”
I stare at him
“He met with the Polish mafia last night. He and his brother.”
“Which one?” Gio asks, interested in this.
“Liam,” I say, glaring at him.
“Keep going.”
“They were discussing shipments, ports, dates… I don’t know—I blacked out last night. I don’t remember much.” I look up at him warily, not sure if he’ll believe me.
He assesses me as if trying to detect a lie. His eyes slowly flick up and down the length of me, slow enough to make me shift uneasily.
“Get closer to him.” His tone is hard. It’s an order.
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” I argue. “He doesn’t trust me.”
He comes closer and I straighten my body, tensing with his incoming proximity. The smell of his cologne is overpowering and bile rises up in my throat as nausea creeps back in.
“Figure it out, Bella. You’re a smart girl.”
I grip my phone tighter.
“Good talk, sweetheart. I’ll be in touch. Don’t make me chase you next time,” he warns one last time before he’s gone, and I sink down slowly to the floor. Remi’s smiling face still lighting up my phone.
I bury my face in my hands. Crying for the first time in days. I miss her. I miss Lily. This is all such a mess. Such a fucking mess.
I throw the phone. Thankfully it misses the studio mirrors and lands with a crack on its side. I can see the splinter of glass across the screen, the damage I’ve done.
What am I going to do?