Audition (North Security 4)

“No.” This is my responsibility. It’s been my responsibility from the first day I saw Bethany dancing in that warehouse. No matter what happens, even if she’s an ocean away, her safety will always be my responsibility. “I’ll go.”

I know where I’ll find her at this time of day. Dancing, of course.

She uses my personal gym, which is on the second floor of the house. It was actually a ballroom when I bought the place, as if I might host a goddamn soiree. I laid down mats wall to wall and moved in my weights, my treadmill, my equipment.

When Bethany moved in, I had one side of the large, airy space cleared out so she could have room to stretch her legs. The old ballroom floor is actually perfect for dance. It keeps her from visiting the theater late at night to practice, so it’s purely a practical move. I tell myself it has nothing to do with imagining her staying here long after the threat is gone.

Bethany has music playing from the overhead speakers, filling the space while she moves. Only half the lights shine onto the glossy mats. The shadows she casts are a sensual partner to her jumps and twirls. Mirrors on the wall reflect her beautiful body. She looks…free. And what I’m about to tell her will change that. It will cage her. Fear makes bars stronger than iron or steel. That’s the real reason why we never got together and killed our father. Because we were afraid of what would happen if we failed. Afraid of what would happen if we succeeded. That’s one thing Caleb has never had—fear. The same thing that made him a traitor allowed him to protect his sister.

Fuck, I hate this. There’s no good way to break this news. It’s one thing to be stalked by a crazy stranger. Another to be stalked by someone you know. Connor isn’t likely to be deterred by anything short of superior firepower. Maybe not even that.

A burst of music. She sinks to the floor into a split, then spins on the floor, bouncing right up again, thrusting her fists into the air. This is a new routine she’s practicing. It looks like she nailed it.

The song plays its final melancholy notes. Silence.

Only then do I step over the threshold. It seems better than cutting her off in the middle of the song. Her eyes are closed. She looks blissed out by the movement, and I hate that there’s a reason for her to be afraid. Don’t fucking ruin it. I can leave as quietly as I came, and she’ll never know I was here.

“Josh?”

So much for that. “I don’t want to interrupt you.”

“I’m done.” She’s glowing, a smile on her face, brown skin glistening. “That was my final run-through for the night. I got it. It’s in my bones now.” She hold

s her wrists out in front of her and twists them, first one way, then the other. “What did you think?”

You look goddamn magnificent. “Looks different than what you do in the theater.”

She shrugs. “That’s Landon’s stuff. Not mine.”

“Why don’t you do that stuff onstage?”

A smile flickers across her full lips. “Maybe. Someday. For now it’s enough to dance when I’m alone. And maybe for you to watch, too.”

This breaks my heart—this version of Bethany. I recognize it for what it is. The version of her that exists in relative safety. A safety I’m about to crush under my heel. “We got information about that flower.”

Her smile fades. A light dims. “What about it?”

I cross the gym with quick strides, my footsteps echoing against the pristine white walls. This is my only time for rehearsal, and I still don’t have the perfect lines straight by the time I reach her. I dive in anyway. What else can I do? “The lab was able to trace the flower from your locker to a shop in the Garden District.”

She laughs, a joyless sound. “Of course it’s from the Garden District.” She can’t follow through with the joke, can’t pretend to be casual about this. Her breath catches on a sob she won’t let me see. “Was that it, then? A dead end?”

“No, we got more. The owner was able to give a description of the buyer.” Dread makes me hesitate, but only for an instant. “We don’t have a positive ID, but based on the physical description—it sounds like Connor.”

Her face falls, and she takes in three rapid breaths and turns away from me. Bethany, ever the dancer, angles herself so that her face is partially obscured from the mirrors on the opposite wall. Her whole life is built on a performance. I want the Bethany who’s backstage. I want the one she doesn’t show other people, but right now I only have the stage. She’s projecting an image; it’s all I deserve.

This is where I should leave it. She has all the information I have to give. I should go. Leave her the fuck alone.

That stubborn humanity at the center of me, the one I’ve tried to stamp out again and again, forces its way to the front of my mind. I tried to make myself less than human. A robot. A killing machine. It didn’t work. I’m still a man. And I still want to comfort her. Without sex. Without all the entanglements that would squeeze the air from our lives. I just need a gesture. Something that will let me hold back.

I need to hold back for both our sakes.

The air in the studio sings with my own anticipation, a crescendo of my own making. It’s a goddamn stampede, crashing louder and louder. I take the last step forward. We’re almost touching—almost, almost—and then we are. I fold my arms around Bethany from behind, gathering her to my chest.

She melts against me instantly, her head falling back to my shoulder. Jesus, I want her. The scent of her hair is intoxicating. I’ll never get over it. I’ll never breathe enough of her. This body of mine, it’s weak. I have to master the desire. I have to ignore the deep cravings surging through my blood. It multiplies with every second until there’s too much to contain. Breathe it out. I have to breathe it out. This is about Bethany, not about what my body wants from hers. Stop being such a fucking asshole.

Bethany turns in my arms.

For a moment I see her at age sixteen, moonlight glinting off the tears on her cheeks. A single blink clears my vision. It’s still her face. It’s still heartbreakingly beautiful. Her heart is still there in her eyes, even after all these years. It’s there for me. How have I ever resisted her? There’s no one but her.