Broken Empire (Boys of Oak Park Prep 3)

“Um, hi. Yes, now is fine.”

My stomach clenched so tight it hurt, and my chest felt like a heavy weight was bearing down on it. I wanted to stop him, to cut him off before he could say anything else. But I couldn’t make myself say the words.

“Fantastic.” I could hear his smile through the phone. “I’m calling because we really enjoyed your audition piece, and we’d like to offer you an ensemble spot in our corps de ballet. If I remember correctly, you said you’re finishing up school, but you’d be available to start in the spring after graduation, is that right?”

“Yes.” My lips moved automatically, before my brain could stop them. When I spoke again, the words grated against the lump in my throat. “I mean… no.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised.

“I—I was in a car accident. I wish I could accept, but I—”

My words broke off. If I kept talking, there was a good chance I’d cry, and I couldn’t let myself do that.

“Oh.” Sympathy colored his tone this time, and his voice softened as he added, “I’m so very sorry to hear that, Talia. I hope you’re all right.”

“Thank you.”

My voice was tight, and as I swallowed, I realized I was surrounded. The Princes had all gathered close to me on the bed, each one touching me somewhere, their gazes locked on my face. I drew in a breath, forcing myself to hold it for a beat before letting it go.

“Thank you, Mr. Nichols. I really appreciate the offer. And I really wish I could take it.”

“I understand. I wish you a speedy recovery, and I hope you’ll audition for us again if you ever—” He stopped and started again. “Well, I hope we’ll see you again.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Goodbye, Talia.”

The line went dead, and I let the phone slip onto the mattress.

A sharp pain flared in my leg, and I didn’t know if it was real or imagined.

My body suddenly felt wrecked, useless, and I shifted on the bed, as if I could somehow escape the confines of my physical form.

I did it. I got in.

The pride that flared at that thought was eclipsed almost immediately by an overwhelming sense of loss, as though I were gazing through a window at the life I could’ve had.

It was so close.

So almost-real.

But it wasn’t mine.

My eyes stung, but I blinked away the tears that tried to well up. I wouldn’t let this ruin me. I wouldn’t.

I had missed one opportunity, but there would be others. With physical therapy and hard work, maybe I could audition again in a year or two—if not there, then somewhere else. My life wasn’t over.

“It’s fine,” I choked out, looking up to meet the Princes’ gazes. They had all moved even closer, gathering in a tight knot around me, and I could see the tension in their bodies as they watched me try to contain my emotions.

Mason shook his head, his green eyes blazing. They burned with intensity as he reached out with both hands to clasp my face, leaning in to rest his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, letting him soak up some of my pain. Our lips were so close that we shared breaths as he held me like that, quiet and still.

Then he moved again, pulling away so fast my whole body jerked from the loss of his. He was across the room in several long strides, and before I could register what he was doing, his fist hit the wall.

“No, goddammit! It’s. Not. Fucking. Fine!”

Each word was punctuated by another strike, until he’d made a hole in the plaster, leaving the white paint smeared with blood.

Breathing hard, he yanked the door open and stalked out, slamming it shut behind him.