Because he cared about his car more than he ever cared about me. Which I knew already but still.
He didn’t though.
He didn’t.
He had the charges reduced. He… he brought my brother the deal.
I can barely draw a proper breath or form a coherent thought in my head. But still, I make myself ask my brother, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why do you think?”
“You knew that I thought it was him. You knew that. Why didn’t you tell me if you knew?” I ask, tears welling up in my eyes.
“Because you’re naïve, Callie,” he snaps, his voice making me flinch, and my tears fall harder. “Because I didn’t want you to paint him as a hero who swooped in to save you after everything that he did. Because I wanted to protect you. Because I wanted you to be smart. I wanted you to move on and live your life and think about your future. I didn’t want you to waste your life over a guy like him. A guy you almost destroyed your life for. A guy who broke your heart and made you cry.”
God, I wish I could hide myself somewhere. I wish I could stop this shame from spreading out over my body. I wish I could stop these tears.
But more than that, I wish I could hug him.
I wish I was back home with him so I could tell him how sorry I am for everything that I put him through.
My brother who brought me up. Who’s more like a father figure to me — to all of us — than my brother.
As it is, all I can do is whisper, “I’m not going to waste my life over him, Con. I’ve learned my lesson.”
But maybe that’s not enough to convince him because he speaks in a rough, heartfelt whisper. “Do you remember what I told you, Callie? Two years ago, I told you that Reed Jackson is an asshole. I told you that he isn’t the guy for you and I still mean that. I don’t know why he had those charges reduced. I don’t know if it was his conscience or if he was playing a game and I don’t care. I don’t fucking care, you hear me? Because if he ever so much as looks at you again, ever, I’m going to take him apart. I’m going to break every single bone in his body and I’m going to take my time with it. Do you understand that, Callie? Stay away from him.”
***
It’s Thursday and I sneak out a little earlier than I usually do.
It could be slightly riskier, since Wyn hasn’t really gone to sleep yet. But it’s not, because she knows everything now. About the Blue Madonna, my ballet dreams.
Him.
I told her.
After last Saturday at Buttery Blossoms where Reed showed up, I had to. And now I’m wondering why I didn’t talk to her sooner. Because she totally believes in me, in my ballet dream, in Juilliard.
She also thinks that there’s more to him than I think. Because I also told her what Con revealed on the phone call.
How the guy who I thought had me arrested was actually the one who got me off on a reduced charge.
He saved me.
Isn’t that surreal? Isn’t that… what I always thought of him?
Back at Bardstown High, I always thought that he had more to him than what he showed the world.
But I was wrong.
I was so wrong that when I learned the truth, look what I did.
Look what I became.
My brother is right. He might have saved me — for whatever reason — but I know better now. I’m smarter and I’m not listening to Wyn.
I’m staying away from him.
That’s why I left earlier than usual and got on a different bus. It was just as empty but whatever.
That isn’t the point.
The point is that I need to stay away from him. And he has no business telling me what to do.
Hopefully my whole violent display at Buttery Blossoms managed to make it clear that I don’t want anything to do with him.
But apparently not.
Apparently it’s too much to ask, because he’s here.
At my silent, empty ballet studio, Blue Madonna.
I see him in the mirror.
All the way across the room, he is standing behind me, propped up against the white wall. He has his arms folded across his chest and from the looks of it, he’s been here a long time and he’ll be here even longer than that.
Because he appears so… engrossed, so absorbed in the moment.
In me.
In my bowed body.
I’m on my knees, see.
With my fake, feather-light wings slung across my back, I’m on the floor and my body is bent in an arc, and he’s watching that arc, tracking it with his wolf eyes.
My shoulder blades, the slope of my spine, the line of my neck, all the way up to my tight, blonde bun.
And he’s so enamored that he doesn’t even know that I’ve spotted him.
Not until I unfold myself and stand up.
Only then do his eyes snap up and clash with mine. And what a clash it is.
I feel the impact of it right in my chest, right where my wounded heart lives, and I spin around to face him.
“You’re here.” I state the obvious. “Again.”
I knew he’d come.
Even though I was hoping that what happened at the cupcake shop might give him the message, I knew he’d follow me like he used to two years ago.
He’s a predator, isn’t he? A villain, and I’m the lost girl at midnight.
That is exactly why I chose to make my point that he can’t control me like he did before by getting here the way I wanted.
Reed doesn’t answer right away.
He’s watching a drop of sweat sliding down my throat, and when it disappears under the neck of my leotard, only then does he lift his eyes and say, “Because you ran from me the other day. Again.”
His usual statement said in a dangerous tone jacks up my breaths. It makes me hypersensitive. So much so that I feel that drop he was watching slide further down my body, reaching between my breasts.
But I try to focus on what he’s saying.
“I had to. You were being an asshole,” I tell him.
“And you were quite the picture of politeness yourself.”
I fist my sweaty hands at his accusation. “Well, you made me angry.”
“So you dumped your lemonade on me.”
My eyes go to his foot then, his right one that I stomped on. “And stomped on your foot.”
He narrows his eyes slightly as he continues, “You also left me to pay your bill.”
I wince.
I can’t believe I did that.
I’ve never, not in my entire life, run out of a restaurant without paying the bill.
Not until him.
But then that’s nothing new, is it?
I do things for him that I’ve never done. I feel things for him that I’ve never felt before.
He turns me into a different Callie. His Callie.
His Fae.
Swallowing, I dispel these useless thoughts. "Well, you broke my heart so I think I’m allowed that.”
His eyes flash when I throw back his words from the bar. “You are.”