But still. At least she was gone now, off to do her job, and there were more important issues at hand. Because where was my beautiful girl? Where was the gorgeous Laney, why had she disappeared? Had Serena run her off somehow? It was weird. Sure, the brunette had been experiencing some back pain, but I thought we had it under control. I certainly hadn’t held back in bed, stretching her every which way, making her take my cock bent over double, doing the splits almost. So what the hell? What was going on?
And with a grim look, I picked up my cell. Joey, a dude I know from a way back answered.
“Find her,” was my command, “Find Laney Jones,” I said, before hanging up with a click. Because Joey’s a PI, he’s got all sorts of tools at his disposal, all sorts of databases and weird software program shit, some legal and some not. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to locate my girl and bring her back before tying her up all over again and beating that pussy into submission. Because Laney belongs to me … and the sooner she realizes it, the better.
CHAPTER NINE
Laney
“I don’t know Ma,” I said quietly, looking down at my folded hands. “I just don’t know.”
Mary was silent for a moment, her hand still on the teacup.
“Well, I just wanted to ask,” she said gently. “Because dancing’s your life, and to give up, honey? To give up just like that?”
My face reddened. Because after discovering Thorn fucking some no-name girl at his place, I’d taken off. I hadn’t even gone back to my apartment to pick up stuff, I’d just hopped on a Greyhound and made my way back to Kansas. The ride had been terrible, twenty hours with only a few short bathroom breaks to stretch my legs. But at least I was home now.
Because the entire bus trip, tears had seeped from my eyes, hot trails running silently down my cheeks as I stared blindly out the window. Gripping a Kleenex fiercely in my fist, I’d tried to keep things under control, shaking so hard in my seat sometimes I was sure the other passengers could tell. But no, without any sounds, most chose to ignore me, staring at their phones with earbuds plugged into their heads.
But now that I was home, I had to tell my mom something. Because ballet has been everything in my life, and to suddenly show up on her doorstep unannounced, shaken and sobbing, was worrisome for sure. So I took a deep breath, dabbing at my eyes again.
“It was my fault, Mom,” I said in a low voice, unable to meet her eyes. “It was my fault.”
Mary looked puzzled.
“But how? What could you have possibly done? Ballet has been your dream since you were five honey, what could have gone so wrong to make you quit?”
I winced at the word “quit.” Because the truth is, I love dance, it’s still one of my greatest joys in life. But the circumstances were so impossible now that I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t stay in New York, performing for the crowds, even if I had a lead role now. It was too difficult, I could barely even breathe with my heart broken, much less get up there and spin like a top.
“Mom,” I said in a quiet voice. “I messed up big time.”
Mary didn’t get it.
“But how?” she asked. “Did you fall during a big performance? Did you break something? Or,” and here, her eyes flew wide. “Is it drugs? Honey, you know that stuff’s bad, we’ve talked about it a million times.”
I shook my head slowly. I’ve always been afraid of drugs, ever since they showed us that scary documentary in junior high. Yeah, I’m that wimpy. But Mary’s question made sense because as dancers, we put ourselves through so much that prescription painkillers are a part of our lives. A lot of ballerinas have gotten addicted, popping pills non-stop, sometimes even downing twenty or thirty a day. So my mom knew what she was talking about, but her fear was unfounded, drugs weren’t my downfall.
“No Ma,” I said slowly. “No painkillers, nothing like that. It’s worse.”
She breathed a sigh of relief before looking at me again.
“But what?” she asked confusedly. “What could go wrong? I just don’t understand honey. What’s so bad that they’d throw you out?”
I took another wavery breath, meeting her eyes this time.
“Ma, I wasn’t thrown out, I quit,” I said slowly. “I quit because I was sleeping with the CEO, and it got out of hand. He didn’t care about me at all, and I couldn’t stay afterwards. I had to go,” I finished on one big breath.
But my mom was completely confused now.
“What CEO? What are you talking about baby? Who’s the CEO?”