Break

My tongue brushes against my bottom lip and the metallic taste of blood invades my mouth. Dash might have kissed me out of anger, but I kissed him back out of…I don’t know. It sure as hell isn’t hate.

My eyes move from his face to the bathroom exit. Maybe I can jet out and escape him without having to deal with the confrontation he obviously wants. But Dashiell closes the stall door and locks it. I don’t know why he hates me so much, but the pain of his anger slices through me to the bone.

“I’m the only one who gets to break what’s rightfully mine.”

The hot air balloon pops and plummets from the sky.

“I’m not yours.” My lips part automatically.

I should kick my own ass for being pathetic. Maybe I’m lying. I can claim I’m not his but based on my traitorous heart and his devastating smirk, we both know that’s not true at this moment. I can’t admit I want a guy who hates me, who probably wants to ruin my career if the opportunity ever arises.

He moves his mouth to my ear and grits, “Eat. This. Too.”

It’s his thumb, covered with melted chocolate from the granola bar. He forces it into my mouth and I suck the chocolate from the digit, never losing eye contact.

If he wants a battle of wills, I’ll show him mine is stronger. I’ve been in training since the age of four with the world’s most ruthless drill sergeant.

We stand there, eyes locked as I lick the chocolate from his fingers. Silence fills the bathroom other than the soft sounds of my sucking. Dash is one of the only people in my life who’s known my dirty secret—the only person I’ve ever told willingly. Despite his animosity, I can’t help how my chest constricts with his desire to feed me. He’s still trying to take care of me. Just like he used to when he had nothing of his own.

I suck his fingers clean and swallow before asking, “Tell me why you hate me so much.”

“I told you. You ruined my life.”

“How? How did I ruin your life, Dash? By getting you help when you needed it? By caring about you? How did I ruin your life?”

“You fucking let her destroy my life. She sent me to hell, and you signed off on it. Don’t pretend like it wasn’t an act of war.”

“I never wanted you gone.”

“You left me to the fucking monsters, Sam, and I’m still here feeding yours. Right back where we started.”

With that, he opens the stall door and storms out, leaving me alone to choke on his words.

Chapter Ten

Dashiell

My first day of school at the prestigious Crestview is in the bag. It was smooth sailing, and for the first time in my life, I felt like royalty in every room I entered.

It’s no joke that every dancer in the world, minus Natayla Koslova, watches Dance Props. Students and staff alike spoke to me like they knew me personally after watching me compete on some fucking reality dance competition show. I have a fan base, and it consists of dancers I look up to and people I emulate.

I might have won big, but that doesn’t diminish the shit ton of work I put in to get there. The last few years have been anything but smooth sailing, thanks to fucking Koslova and her curse on my family. But I’ll have my vengeance on that bitch if it’s the last thing I do. Easiest way to do that? I’ll fucking destroy her precious work of art. Her perfect mini-me clone, who carries every ounce of her hopes and dreams.

Natayla Koslova. My Sam. The fucking thorn in my side and dagger through my heart. I’ll take her pristine and perfect ballerina and make her crawl on all fours like a dog begging me for attention, for food, for every single touch.

I’ll make her respond to my commands instead of her mother’s. The loss will destroy Katerina, and my work will be done. If I happen to become the world’s most famous dancer in the process, then so be it.

I leave school grounds feeling like royalty. I even sign autographs for some of the students in the program. Everyone is on my side now, so maybe Katerina will get a taste of her own medicine and see how it feels like to be lost, to be forgotten, left out in the cold to die.

Instead of hoofing it, begging for a ride, or taking the stinking city bus, I drive my new Maserati to our new flat on Riverside, courtesy of Dance Props. A roof over our heads, the fruit of my labor, and not any old shack, but a newly renovated luxury apartment, exactly what my mom deserves after all she’s been through.

I find a spot two blocks away and park halfway on the curb. After placing a Seamless order for Mom and me, I take the elevator to the top level of the building and step into the hallway with only two apartments—Penthouse A and Penthouse B. We just moved into B, but it doesn’t feel like second place because almost all our windows are southern exposure. And oh yeah, we spent years homeless and in shelters on our way to the top. This fucking beats public housing by a long mile. We’ve spent years living in some of the most derelict, rundown buildings, unfit for human occupation. Mom and I lived like rats and, at one point, even resorted to panhandling.