Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“She’s in England, man. I just got off the phone with Michelle, the Head Master over at Lexi’s dance theatre. She accepted a job at some hoity toity academy or some shit.”
“What? Since when?” I asked, fuming. Pacing my office again. “How did I not know about this?” I stopped dead in my tracks, the realization hitting me. I’d left her alone for five fucking days. She wouldn’t have gone if I hadn’t pushed her away.
“I guess since she left here. What the fuck happened? What did you do now?” Leo questioned, pulling me back to reality.
I grabbed my gun, heading toward the door. Immediately making another call. “Make sure my plane’s ready. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” I hung up.
“Goddamn it, man. Wait up, I’m coming with you,” Leo said, running up behind me.
The flight to London was seven hours. Seven damn hours of me cursing, punishing myself for letting the one light in my life walk out my door. We couldn’t get there fast enough. I had a driver waiting by the time we landed that morning. I didn’t have to wonder where she would be, she lived and breathed dance, using it as her only escape. We headed straight toward the theatre, finally walking through the doors an hour later, feeling some sort of peace as soon as I felt her presence near me.
I found her.
The sweet melody of the song she played to dance for me in my office all those years ago, blared through the speakers. Filling the huge space, shattering my fucking heart a little more. She was dancing on stage by herself, people, which I assumed were other performers and instructors, filled the first few rows.
I stayed by the door unable to move, hiding in the shadows as I had for years, without her knowing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, mesmerized by her gracefulness, the way she poured her heart and soul out when she danced. I’d never seen her look so breathtakingly beautiful before, her body so in tune with her flawless movements.
As if she was dancing just for me.
Like we were the only two people in the world. I felt every movement she was effortlessly trying to portray. A painting that came to life. I’d seen her dance before, but nothing like this. She was so full of life, so happy in her element, so content in her surroundings. The dark cloud I shadowed over her had been lifted, breaking free from the hold I had on her all these years. I leaned back against the door, needing the support. Defeated, as I watched her dance as if her life depended on it.
She was saying goodbye to me.
I hung my head, my heart and mind raging war on each other. I wanted to storm up on that stage and grab her. Take her back home with me and cherish her, show her how fucking sorry I was, and never let her go again. The song faded, I looked at her one last time. Memorizing every last thing about her. Everything I loved.
Nodding to Leo, I turned and left.
“Martinez!” Leo yelled, grabbing my arm. Stopping me when we were outside of the building. “What the fuck are you doing, man? Go get her.”
“No,” I simply stated, facing him. She was no longer mine to get.
“What do you mean? She's in danger, that's why we're here. You still haven’t—” I peered back toward the theatre, my solemn expression causing Leo to abruptly stop talking.
Never taking my eyes off the building, I asked, “What do you know about me, Leo? No one fucks with me. I’ve spent my whole life making sure of it,” pausing to let my words sink in.
I revealed, “She was never in any fucking danger. I took care of it the next day.”
And left…
During the holidays, The Royale Ballet theatre in England performed Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker Suite. It was our final show of the season, and I couldn’t wait for the break. My partner, Matthew, and I were performing the Pas de Deux. The music soon became my favorite, so romantic, so powerful, so all-consuming. Dancing to it was the most intense feeling I had ever felt in my career. Matthew’s strong hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me into a grande pas de chat.
Floating through the air as if I weighed nothing. The music became more intense the closer we got to the finish. I turned and faced him for our last lift of the night. Développé, passé, pirouette, plié. Using every last bit of energy, he picked me up, placing me on his shoulder. The music faded, and the applause rang out. Setting me down, he presented his arm to me as I curtsied. Rapidly following and bowing his head.
“Great performance tonight, Lexi!” Sabrina, the Head Master praised in my dressing room after the show.