Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
“I don’t like this, Chantel,” Kenzie reiterates. “This isn’t just fan behavior. He’s escalating.”
“I’ll handle it,” I assure her. “But for now, please just keep this between us.”
She hesitates a moment before she nods. “Okay, but promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will.”
We say our goodbyes, and I sit quietly with my thoughts until soft footsteps draw my attention to the door. When I catch the expression on Mariella’s face as she approaches, I know she never left.
“I’m guessing you overheard that?” I force some levity into my tone, but it does nothing to convince her.
She sits in the chair across from me, concern etched into her features.
“I had a feeling you weren’t as casual about this stalker as you said you were. You told us about it in case something happens, didn’t you?”
I don’t acknowledge it, but I don’t need to. Mariella can see she’s right.
“Something’s been off with you for a while now,” she observes. “Does this have anything to do with your past?”
I wring my hands together in my lap, not even sure what to say. I’m so tired of worrying all the time, trying to predict everything that can go wrong, and actively trying to prevent it.
In therapy, they told me to walk through the worst-case scenario, as if I’d eventually realize it wasn’t as bad as my mind made out. Except, in my situation, the worst-case scenario ends with me dying, and I don’t know how walking through that is supposed to help.
The irony is that I have people like Mariella who want to help me, and sometimes, it’s so tempting to just confess everything. But deep down, I know it could only end one of two ways. It would either start a war, or I’d lose them forever.
“I know you have a hard time opening up,” Mariella says. “And I’m not trying to pressure you. But I want you to know I’m here, and I’ll never tell a soul anything you share with me. I just need to know you’re safe.”
“I am.” I give her a watery smile. “Thanks to you, I have a whole arsenal of weapons at my disposal.”
Mariella laughs, shrugging as if she can’t help herself. She’s always been concerned about my safety as a performer, and every year, she adds more self-defense tools to my collection. In my bag alone, I have an emergency alarm, pepper spray, a stun gun, and a switchblade. I also have rings and other discreet jewelry that can be used in a pinch, and that’s nothing compared to what I have at home.
“I could arrange for a guard to drive you to and from the club,” she offers.
“I have some time before I go back to work. Can I think about it?”
She reluctantly agrees, but when my phone alerts me to a message from Viktor, I can see I’ve made a liar of myself. I texted him this morning to let him know I’d injured my ankle, asking if I could take some time off. In typical fashion, he’s being an asshole about it.
You’ve got until Monday. If you don’t come back by then, don’t come back at all.
“Everything okay?” Mariella asks.
“Yep.” I stand and plaster on a happy face. “Let’s go join this class.”
“Okay, Shakira.” Val elbows me. “Where’d you learn to move your hips like that?”
“Seriously.” Abella laughs. “I think you caught the instructor off guard.”
“And on a stability ball, no less,” Lucia adds.
“I just got caught up in the moment.”
“Can you show me that figure eight thing again?” Serafina asks.
“Sure.” I stand and show them again, a little slower this time.
“Yeah, no. That defies the laws of human anatomy.” Mariella shakes her head. “I give up.”
“It’s so…hypnotic.” Lucia sighs. “I might need to take more classes so I can do that.”
“You aren’t the only one who’s hypnotized.” Gabi points out. “We have an audience.”
We glance over to find the men have gathered in the backyard gym now that our class is out of the way. But there isn’t much working out happening at the moment. Angelo and Romeo are staring at their wives while Cristian scowls in our general direction. Rafe and Michele grin like idiots as I use my hands to guide Serafina’s hips, breaking down the move for her.
“That’s it, ladies,” Rafe encourages. “A little more hands-on action.”
Cristian smacks his brother in the back of the head as he walks by, and Michele laughs.
“God, they are such children.” Mariella rolls her eyes.
We resume our practice, and the girls follow along, asking me questions as they try to perfect the moves we learned today. It feels like a breath of fresh air dancing without the pressures of the club. Sometimes, I forget how much fun it can be to do something simply because I want to.
“You’re really good at this,” Val notes. “I’m bummed I’ve never even been to one of your shows.”