by Cassie Wild
I touched my face, finding the skin under my hand hot and sensitive. Confusion spiked inside my head, but as I slid my fingers along the soreness, memory slammed into me.
Marcos. Grabbing me, then hitting me.
Me, lying in the dark room, hurting and scared.
Then the door opening and Isabel creeping inside.
I was in the hotel room, where Isabel had brought me the night before.
Brooks had been here.
That was what eventually spurred me out of bed. I couldn’t stay in bed another moment, not when I lay there worrying about what Brooks had been thinking. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what must be going through his head.
We hadn’t exactly talked much, not after I told him what had happened. Whatever he was thinking, he’d kept it to himself.
I did know he still wanted me. That had been obvious after last night.
But what did it all mean?
I might be a novice, but I knew sex didn’t always mean the same thing to everyone. For all I knew, what had shaken my very world had just been a distraction for him.
Again, I became aware of the noise outside my room. People were talking.
I couldn’t hear anything they were saying, and I wasn’t even sure who it was. Sliding from the bed, I looked around. I took the white dress shirt that was draped over the foot of the bed and pulled it on.
As I buttoned it up, I walked into the bathroom. I grabbed a brush and dragged it through my hair. Once I was halfway presentable, I left the bathroom and went to the door.
The second I opened it, silence fell. Sean and Isabel looked at me.
The moment my best friend saw me, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me tight. I hugged her back, pressing my face against her shoulder. A faint sob built in my throat, but I was able to fight it back.
Isabel stroked a hand down my hair. “It’s okay now,” she said softly.
I nodded, unable to speak.
After a few more moments, she pulled away, placing her hands on my shoulders. She studied me, her eyes moving to the bruise on my cheek. I hunched my shoulders self-consciously, wishing I hadn’t come out here. The speculation in her eyes, the worry, all of it only added to my embarrassment.
I cut around her, desperate to get away from the look in her eyes. Sean sat on the couch, but as I pulled back from Isabel, he rose to his feet. “You’ve been asleep for a long time,” he said.
I nodded mutely. I could tell. I had that groggy feeling that came from too much sleep, and I didn’t think I could chase it away even with a gallon of coffee.
It was the simple thought of a beverage that made me realize how thirsty I was, then I spied the beverage service in the corner. I grabbed a bottle of water, cracking the seal and lifting it to my lips.
I drank nearly the entire bottle before I wiped the back of my hand over my lips and capped the bottle. I was excruciatingly aware of the fact that both Sean and Isabel were staring at me. I rubbed my temple and looked back at them. I glanced around. “Where’s Brooks?”
“He left to take care of some things,” Isabel said softly.
Sean snorted.
I slanted a look at him, frowning. “What’s that for?” I asked.
“I’m just admiring Isabel’s ability to oversimplify…and underestimate.”
“Sean,” Isabel said, her voice low and full of warning.
But he was focused on me. “This is a big fucking mess you made, Daria.”
Fury exploded in every cell, and I jabbed my thumb at my chest. “Mess I made?” I said, gaping at him. “This is a mess Duardo’s family created—that stupid club!”
“You were the one who went inside,” he said, shrugging.
“Because Isabella wanted me to go with her so she could make sure that you weren’t flirting with some fucking stripper!” I shouted.
Isabelle flinched.
“If you hadn’t been so greedy—”
“Greedy?” Fury tore into me. “I barely make it from month to month on the little money I have. Sometimes, I go to bed hungry because I can’t afford to keep enough groceries on hand.”
I tossed my hand at him. In Russia, it was a gesture of disgust. Look at you, I wanted to say, standing there in a silk shirt and designer jeans that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe altogether. He had a watch on his wrist that was understated and elegant—and worth more than the damn jeans.
“You have no idea what it’s like to go hungry because you don’t have the money for food, do you? Scrimping together enough money so you can buy new shoes because yours are falling apart? You have the nerve to call me greedy?”
Sean, thankfully, didn’t have much response to that.
Isabel did, though. “You blame me for this, don’t you?” she said, her voice tight.
“No.” I met her eyes. There was a small sliver of uncertainty inside, but I buried it. “I blame Leon, I blame the manager at the club…” I swallowed, because I knew she wasn’t going to like the next part. “I blame your brothers, your dad. But I don’t blame you.”
Her face crumpled.
I looked away. “I know you love your family,” I said, my voice thick. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to deal with this, but what they were going to do…”
I stopped, because I hadn’t told her everything. I hadn’t told her that it was her brother who had grabbed me, nor had I told her how her other brother had put his hands on me, bruised me. There was a lot I hadn’t told her, really. Judging by the look on her face, she’d already been pushed so hard, being forced to deal with everything she’d learned in the past few days.
If I told her much more, it might break her.
I already felt like it had destroyed me.
The only thing that held me together right now was Brooks, the very thought of him.
“What do you mean, he’s gone to take care of the mess I made?” I asked, focusing on Sean.
“You still owe a fucking debt to the Castellanos. If it isn’t paid, they’ll just keep coming after you.” He narrowed his eyes on my face. “And knowing what a hero complex my brother has, he’ll be determined to keep stepping in until this mess is either fixed or one or both of you end up dead.”
The words stung.
“I never asked him to risk himself,” I said, my voice thick. “I thought he…” Stopping, I pressed my lips together in an effort to hide the tremble.
“Let me guess. You thought he had gone and fallen head over heels for you, right?” His smile was sardonic and cutting, and I couldn’t help but flinch as he said, “No. Like I said, Brooks has a hero complex. You ended up in trouble, and he just felt obliged to step in.”
It hurt. It hurt more than I could imagine. Rubbing my fingers over my lips, I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Now, with all the work the Castellanos put into finding you, it’s probably going to take a lot to smooth everything over. But Brooks will feel obligated to fix it, just like he felt obligated to help you.”
Sean hitched a shoulder in a shrug as he tucked his hands into his pockets.
Had I been just an…obligation to him all along?
“Daria,” Isabel said, her voice soft.
“I think I’m ready to go back to New York,” I said, cutting her off. “The sooner, the better.”
Chapter Nineteen
Brooks
It had been a bitch of a day, but as I finally turned my car keys over to the valet, I felt like I’d managed to accomplish something.
Daria was safe.
I’d had to pay extra for what Duardo had told me was, “The extra trouble I’d caused him,” but it was done.
The older Castellanos brother had told me that he considered the matter between his family and Daria closed. I’d taken care of her debt, and she was free of them.
That had been the goal all along, so even if it had cost me more than I’d been prepared to pay, it was worth it.
Her life was her own again.
And now we coul
d focus on…other things.
I didn’t know if she’d be up for it, but all day, as I worried about whether the Castellanos would let me take care of her debt, I’d thought about being here with her, holding her, feeling that long slim form pressed next to mine.
The shadows under her eyes, the bruised, uncertain look she’d given me when she first saw me standing in her room was something that would haunt me. The entire time I’d been dealing with Duardo, I’d had to grit my teeth as I played nice with him. If he had any idea how much I’d imagined knocking him to the ground and beating him to a bloody pulp for what he’d done to Daria, he probably never would have consented to be alone in a room with me. I’d never felt tempted to kill until the past few days, but during that time, I’d imagined several bloody, inventive ways to put an end to the Castellanos men.
The elevator ride up to our floor seemed interminably long.
The closer I got to seeing Daria again, the more slowly the seconds seemed to drag by.
Finally, the doors swept open silently, and I strode toward our room, my key card already out and ready.
It only took a few seconds for panic to settle in.
Standing there in the doorway, I took in the immaculate, quiet, empty suite.
“What the fuck?” I whispered. Had the Castellanos found her? Had Duardo been jerking me around half the day? If he had…
I shoved the thoughts aside and turned on my heel. Sean had booked a room just down the hall rather than needing to return to his apartment. He’d told me he’d be staying put for the day and to let him know if I needed something.
I’d expected him to actually stay with Daria, both him and Isabel. Yet, while I could see Sean tiring of babysitting duty, I didn’t think Isabel would have left Daria alone after the events of the last few days.
I knocked on the door with a lot more force than probably needed, and Sean opened it with a look of annoyance on his face.
I relaxed at the sight of him.
Daria was probably in there with him and Isabel. If something had happened, Sean would have noticed.
“I’m back,” I said unnecessarily. “Is Daria in here? I’m pretty damn tired.”
The question had been rhetorical. Surely Daria was here.
But Sean canted his head to the side before shaking it. “She’s gone, man. Both her and Isabel left earlier for the airport. They’re going back to New York.”
Going back to New York?
I blinked and thought through what he’d said but then shook my head. “She wouldn’t have just left, not without talking to me.”
Sean offered a lazy half-shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you. I took them to the airport myself.” He checked the watch on his wrist, then looked back at me. “By now, they’ve already landed at JFK. Might already be back at the apartment.”
I shoved the heels of my hands against my eyes.
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go. This wasn’t how things with Daria were supposed to go.
“You want to come in? Have a drink?” Sean stepped aside.
On autopilot, I went in and looked around, finding a suite that was the mirror image of mine. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sean going to the small beverage service, and I waited as he poured me a glass of Glenfiddich.
I accepted the glass and tossed half of it back before looking at him.
“Why did they leave?” I asked.
Sean looked at me like it was the dumbest question he’d ever heard.
“Why?” The look he’d just given me bothered me. I couldn’t say it made me uneasy, but it bothered me. Why wouldn’t I want to know why she’d left?
“She was just down here for the wedding,” Sean said after realizing I wasn’t going to let it go. “The wedding is over. And it’s a damn good thing she is gone before she ends up in any more trouble. Isabel will kick my ass if something happens to her friend, never mind that it wasn’t my family who had the problem with her. No, my dumbass brother has to play white knight.”
I didn’t like the tone in his voice. “How many times do I have to explain this? Daria didn’t do anything wrong,” I said in a hard tone. “She’s a sweet, innocent girl who ended up in trouble and got fucked over. You and me, we made the decision to stay in this life.”
I almost choked over the words, because my decision had been to get the fuck out of it, away from this. And for this very reason too. But in the end, I’d let my father and my loyalty to my family overcome my better judgment. But Daria hadn’t done anything more than be Isabel’s friend. She didn’t deserve this shit.
“Daria didn’t ask to be involved in any of it.”
“What in the hell is your hang-up over her?” Sean snapped. Judging by the look in his eyes, he was about as irritated as I was.
Good. I’d hate to be the only one pissed off right now.
“She’s just some girl. If the dancing thing got you all worked up, I’m sure we can find some prima donna in Philadelphia who’d love to spend time with you. Otherwise, just go find some girl and get laid. This is—”
His head snapped back from the blow I delivered to his chin.
He stumbled back a few feet before he steadied, reaching up to rub at his face. “What the fuck was that for?” he shouted.
“It’s because you’re pissing me off,” I replied, rubbing my sore knuckles.
So far, he didn’t look inclined to return the blow, but I stayed ready for him, balanced on the balls of my feet so I could move to evade or block.
“You’ve lost your mind,” he told me. “That’s all there is to it. You’ve lost your mind.”
“What happened earlier with Daria?” I asked, following my gut instinct. “What did you say to her?”
“I didn’t say shit,” Sean retorted. He pointed a finger at me. “You need to get your shit together and get focused, man. You’re letting your dick do all your thinking.”
“I’m tempted to hit you again, Sean,” I said softly.
“You won’t get another free one.” He bared his teeth at me.
I just stared him down.
“You need to get the hell out,” he said. He went over to the beverage service and poured himself some Scotch. “I got things to do, and I need to get to bed early. I’m flying out in the morning.”
“And where are you going?”
“New York.” He gave me a tight smile. “To be with my wife. You got meetings and shit lined up for the next week. When I get back, we’ll get to work.”
“You’re the reason I’m down here to begin with. Those meetings should involve both of us. But you’re taking off to play house.”
“I’m taking off to go be with my wife for a few days.” He curled his lip at me. “Now please kindly yank your head out of your ass. We can’t afford to mess things up here, and you know it.”
Chapter Twenty
Daria
I was really starting to regret my decision to leave Moscow.
Sure, here in the States, there was a level of freedom I hadn’t had back in my home country. But I hadn’t had the worries I had here, either.
And if I’d never left, I never would have met—or fallen for—Brooks Downing.
One of the reasons I’d left was the hope that maybe at a smaller ballet company like Burov, I’d have a better chance at becoming the principal, something that was out of my reach back in Moscow. But as long as I got to dance, I was happy enough.
Or I had been.
I’d been back in New York for two weeks. Nothing about the buzz and hum of the city had changed, but everything about my life was different since the wedding and the horrible aftermath. Each day I had to drag myself to school. Too often, I’d wondered why I even bothered.
Being around Nadia made me uncomfortable. Sometimes, when she thought I was unaware, I’d find her staring at me.
Knowing she was involved with the whole club thing with the Castellanos made me even more wary of her. I’d spent some time researching during my fr
ee evenings, and I’d discovered there was a lot of trouble that seemed to follow the Castellanos name.
Nothing that could be proven, it seemed, but there was much speculation that the family was involved in everything from running drugs to human trafficking.
I thought of what Duardo had said: Because of my friendship with Isabel, I’d been given a choice between dancing and prostitution. I couldn’t be the only woman who owed them a so-called debt, and I doubted any of them could claim a friendship with Isabel. That was what had saved me. What about those who didn’t have someone to rescue them? Were they just forced to do whatever the Castellanos wanted of them?
I had a bad feeling I already knew the answer.
Did Nadia know about it? Not the dancing, but the prostitution. I suspected it was rampant at the club.
I’d heard more than a few girls talking about the ‘extra’ lap dance they’d been asked to perform. Some had talked almost openly about what they were expected to do. If I read between the lines, sex was definitely on the table.
I shuddered to think that the woman who’d been part of the reason I’d come to the US was involved in human trafficking and forcing women to act as sex workers to pay some stupid debt.
But I couldn’t brush the thought aside, either.
Each time I found her watching me, I had to fight the urge to cringe away.
“Burov has been more of a bitch than usual lately,” Isabel said in a glum voice as we sat down to eat.
I picked at the salad in front of me, pretending I hadn’t heard what she said.
“Haven’t you noticed? It’s like somebody replaced the poker up her ass with a baseball bat studded with nails. She’s on a mission to destroy all of us. She wants us to feel like the has-been she is, and she won’t stop until she makes it happen.”
“Isabel,” I said in a low voice before darting a look around. “Stop it. If somebody overhears you and tells her—”
She waved a hand. “She won’t do shit to me, and you know it.”
