Vicious Rebel (82 Street Vandals)

by Heather Long

  I snorted as I rose and pointed to the stove. “Turn that off and follow me.”

  “Awww, do I have to?” He did the whole pout thing well, and I grinned.

  “Yes, you have to. I want company, and if you hate it, you can just watch me dance.”

  “Strip show?” He waggled his eyebrows. “’Cause that perfect pussy of yours has been in hiding for a while. I might need a memory refresher.”

  “You do know that you don’t have to get my attention with the crass come-ons, right? You had it before?”

  He paused, the wind ruffling his hair, and stared at me with the saddest eyes. “You know, life isn’t all pretty. You’re clean and soft and bright. The crass…it just helps to laugh and keep the ugliness from touching you.”

  Leaning up, I brushed a kiss to his cheek. “Freddie, some of the warmest smiles can hide the darkest pathways of all. Don’t believe everything you see in magazines or imagine from the stage.” I squeezed his arm. “Never feel like you have to be anyone other than who you are with me.”

  Then, before I confessed more, I cut across the roof to the door, leaving him to deal with the heater. I needed a minute to get my own walls back up. Freddie didn’t show up in the studio right away. But he did come. While he didn’t dance, he sat on the floor and watched me.

  No, I didn’t strip, but the sad eyes he watched me with seemed a little less alone, and that was worth cutting myself open. Closing my eyes, I let go and let the music carry me, as I moved from one routine into the next. It was just instinct to leap for the silk and to dance with it instead. Higher I flew, twisting, twining, and wrapping it around myself, a bandage for the soul, and at the same time, wings to set me free.

  More than once, I wished the wings were real, and even as I did, I worried the freedom I’d found was an illusion.

  Like all illusions, it would come crashing down.

  Family Vacation

  Emersyn

  By the time I’d turned twelve, I understood more about sex and reproduction than I’d ever wanted to know. For some reason, the tutor decided this was the year for the safe sex conversation. Sex was never safe. I finished the lecture, the video, and took the test on my laptop. There were some other “health” material we needed to cover to qualify for the end of year material. Honestly, I didn’t care. I knew how to treat my injuries for the most part and how to avoid them. The rest of it just didn’t seem all that interesting.

  The last thing I expected was my mother to appear at the hotel in Los Angeles where we’d taken up residence as the show retooled. For the next six to eight weeks, the choreographers would pull the show apart and put it back together again. Some performers would go, and others would join us. Once the new show was readied, we’d spend two weeks in grueling rehearsal and then hit the road again.

  The last two years, my uncle had plucked me out for a month each time. An ice-cold shudder raced through me. Time just for us. This year, he’d let me know that we’d have to postpone our “vacation.” Apparently, some business had pulled him away, so instead of bringing me “home,” I would spend my break at the hotel. He’d even sent me flowers and gifts in apology and the promise to join me on the road as soon as he could.

  Maybe he’d get in a wreck along the way.

  When Mother walked through the door in a cloud of Chanel and dressed from head to toe in a perfect white pantsuit and wearing stilettos that let her tower over me, I could have cried.

  “There’s my beautiful girl,” she greeted me with a smile and leaned into brush an air kiss against my cheek. “Don’t hug, we don’t want to wrinkle.” Then she paused to remove her sunglasses as she eyed me. “What are you wearing? You look like some crude ad for an amusement park catalog.”

  Nothing worse than being an ad in a catalog.

  But I glanced down at my pajama bottoms—dark blue with ‘Sully’ wrapped around one leg and the tank top that matched it with the Monsters Inc. logo. My feet were bare, but my toenails were electric blue, courtesy of Lauren down the hall, who’d given me a free pedicure while we ate pizza and cinnamon breadsticks and watched romantic comedies on Netflix. I’d stayed up way past my curfew, and she totally covered for me with my jailer—my chaperone.

  “I’m in my pajamas, Mother,” I said slowly. “I just finished the last of my classes before the break, and I didn’t have anything to do today.” I had an entire suite to myself. Unlike some of the dancers who had to share and then only had hotel rooms, mine had a sitting room and a mini bar—locked—my own bedroom with a king-sized bed in it, and a whirlpool bath.

  Most nights, I just slept on the sofa in front of the television. It was more comfortable.

  “Well, clearly I can see that, Emersyn. Why aren’t you ready to go?” She did a slow circuit. “Where are your bags?”

  “Go where?” I asked slowly. I hadn’t even showered today. After the test was done, I’d fully intended to pull up Netflix and binge-watch some of the shows I never got to watch on the road.

  Irritation marred her perfectly smooth forehead as she whirled to face me. “To Singapore.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about, and apparently, she grasped that. With a huff of exasperation, she settled her sunglasses atop her perfectly coifed hair and set down her Birkin bag and pulled out her phone. While she was distracted, I did a quick scan of the room. There wasn’t anything visible that would get me into any trouble.

  Not that she focused on the room at all. Her fingers flew over the keyboard on her phone, and I waited. Her absolute huff of disgust, however, as she raised her head and stared at the ceiling almost made me laugh.

  Almost.

  Because there were only two people I knew that irritated Mother like that.

  “Your uncle,” she said in clipped tones, “does not get to decide if you’re going with me. Do you have your passport?”

  Actually… “I do.” I wanted to smile, but I didn’t want to disturb the moment. Mother never argued with Uncle Bradley. With Daddy? All the time, but never my uncle. “We did two shows…”

  She waved a hand. “I don’t care why you have it, as long as you do.” One perfectly manicured hand on her hip, she began to smile. “This is what we’re going to do. Go shower and change. I don’t care what you wear, just look vaguely presentable. I’ll rearrange our car and have Jacques update our flight.”

  Update… “I’m going to Singapore?”

  “Yes, my darling. We are going to Singapore. We’re going to the fashion festival. We’ll shop, we’ll drink wine, and we’ll act like civilized people, and your father and your uncle can rot.” Lips pursed, she shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s time you and I ran away.”

  Those were the words I’d always wanted to hear. I took a step closer to her, and she made a shooing motion.

  “Go, go. You smell like bad vending machine food. How you are that skinny with the junk you eat…”

  I went and took the fastest shower ever, though I made sure to use all my hair products. Mother hated frizzy hair. And despite what she thought, I did have presentable clothes, I just hated wearing them. I kept my mental fingers crossed the whole time as I threw everything clean I owned into one of my suitcases and dug my passport out from under the bed where I’d hidden it, and then hurried back out to the sitting room.

  Mother emptied a glass of champagne and gave me a brilliant smile. “Now there is my beautiful girl. Shall we go and be rotten together?”

  It took two hours to get to LAX in the traffic, and Mother spent as much time on her phone as she did talking to me about everything we were going to do. I didn’t care, there was a warm fizzy feeling in my stomach that I hadn’t experienced in so long. I saw my uncle more than I ever saw my parents. They sent presents. They sent cards. They sent flowers.

  They rarely appeared.

  At the airport, we checked our bags in one of the commercial terminals rather than the private.

  “It’s an adventure,” my mother said, pouting almost playfull
y before she pressed a finger to her lips.

  We had dinner in the first-class lounge at a quiet table for the two of us, and Mother ignored her phone and focused on me. She wanted to hear about my shows, my travels, and what my plans were. It was more words than she’d spoken to me in years.

  By the time we boarded our flight, it was late and Mother’s phone had blown up with messages, vibrating with calls she ignored, and more. She took a sort of savage satisfaction when she turned it off.

  I never found out why she’d been so angry with my father or my uncle, but the next three weeks were the best we ever spent together.

  Chapter 25

  Emersyn

  A routine formed over the next couple of weeks. Breakfasts were with everyone present, even Liam, who showed up more often than not. Enough that his absence was conspicuous on those days he wasn’t. Or maybe that was just to me.

  Everyone took a turn at cooking. That meant some days, there were pancakes. Other days, eggs and bacon. Donuts appeared twice, and since one box was labeled ‘Swan Only’ and filled only with the donuts I always ate from the other boxes, I had to admit, it tickled me. Jasper never said a word, but they were absolutely from him.

  On the day it was supposed to be my turn to fix breakfast, the boys made a rude discovery. Well, one of the boys did. I had zero idea how to cook. Always up early, Kestrel took pity on me and showed me how to make more than just peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He could flip eggs with this little wrist maneuver. I tried it, and we lost one egg to the ceiling.

  The second egg died ignominiously on the floor. Kestrel scooted right up behind me, put his hand over mine, and helped me flip the next ones. “See, not so hard,” he murmured. Right, that was all him. Though I had to admit, the lessons were fun. Jasper’s snarl at our position when he came in cut off abruptly. When I twisted to look, it was to find Liam with the egg dripping off his head. Apparently, the one on the ceiling lost its battle against gravity. Jasper suddenly burst out laughing. It was probably one of the most joyous sounds I’d heard in a long time. Even Liam’s aggrieved face seemed to relax into a smile.

  It was the most ridiculous scene. Beyond the pair of them, I caught Rome’s slow wink and approving look. Vaughn snorted as he pushed past all of them, waiting only long enough for me to finish the next round of eggs before he tugged me away from Kestrel for a very thorough good morning kiss.

  Still breathless, nothing readied me for Jasper swooping in for a toe-curling, tongue twisting kiss that seemed to shut off my brain cells as he walked me back toward the coffeemaker. The heat Vaughn ignited burned through me as I melted into Jasper. The smugness in his smile was almost adorable. My lips were still tingling as I turned to go back to Kestrel, only to bounce off Rome’s chest. He picked me up, carried me to a counter and pressed me right up against the wall as he kissed me. The sweep of his tongue and the firmness of his lips erased the rest of the room.

  “If I’d known Boo-Boo’s lips were for breakfast, I’d have gotten up earlier,” Freddie announced into the sudden silence, but I couldn’t see him beyond Rome taking up my whole view. He rubbed his thumb gently against my lower lip before he gave me a gentler, sweeter kiss that felt more like a promise than a demand. The tingles racing over my skin turned electric, and if Vaughn and Jasper soaked my panties, Rome burnt them up.

  With a nod, Rome left me to grab his own coffee. I locked gazes with Liam and shivered under the intensity of that stare.

  “Not done with breakfast yet, Sparrow,” Kestrel said as he rescued me by stepping between us and cutting off my view. I hopped down and retreated to the stove. It didn’t matter if he stayed between us, Liam’s stare seemed to drill right through me.

  I stayed with Freddie most days and found myself in Vaughn’s bed most nights. Jasper’s schedule had him away more than at the clubhouse. He seemed exhausted too, but he didn’t tell me what was going on. I tried to respect his wishes and not ask. Kestrel, Vaughn, and Rome took turns hanging out with Freddie and me, but there were days they were all gone. Once, Liam had come by, but all he’d done was kick back in a chair and watch cooking shows with us. Actually, he watched me like he was trying to figure me out.

  Instead of confronting him about it, because I had a feeling it had to do with all the kissing, I retreated to my dance studio. Freddie still wouldn’t dance with me, but he came in most days and watched me practice. The color was coming back into his cheeks, he showered more often, and we finished the Havoc series together.

  Well, most of it, there were some sex scenes I just wasn’t ready to read aloud, so I skated past them until Freddie figured it out. Then he took over reading those parts with such gusto, he would have me in tears laughing.

  “It’s just good, old fashion dirty fun, Boo-Boo,” Freddie told me. “Haven’t you ever had a threesome? Or a foursome? A daisy chain? How about letting a girl go down on you? Or watch you while a guy did? I bet you like to be tied up. All those silks…strung up and spread wide…”

  The rapid-fire questions went from teasing and playful to kind of horrific. I shook my head. “No,” was all I managed to squeak out before I escaped. I barely saw Kestrel as I headed for the stairs, but the look on his face said there was no way he hadn’t heard what Freddie had been asking.

  I didn’t want to talk about it.

  At the top of the stairs, the sound of a thump carried and Freddie’s aggrieved, “Ow, I was just playing. Jesus, Kestrel.”

  The rest of it faded away as I gave up decorum and ran all the way to my room. Inside, I shut the door and closed my eyes like I could shut out the past. Months since I’d seen him as more than a blip on a newsfeed, and I could conjure his face without trying.

  My uncle seemed to have carved out a space for himself in my head as deftly as he had my body.

  Nothing made it go away.

  I hid in my room for the rest of the day. I was supposed to be watching Freddie, or at least hanging out with him. But I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t face any of them. Kestrel was home, so at least I knew that Freddie wasn’t alone. I ignored the messages on my phone, curled up under the covers with the bear that had been in the room since I arrived. The old, somewhat worn but still soft bear absorbed invisible tears as well as real ones.

  Twice, the door opened, and I pretended to be asleep both times. For a little while, I’d forgotten the kidnapping, the life before, my uncle, all of it. It was like I belonged here. Then just like that, it was all gone again. I was the missing heiress with an uncle swearing repeatedly he wouldn’t stop looking for me. My captors had become my friends? Lovers? How did I even describe them?

  Did they count as kidnappers if I came back of my own volition?

  I wish I could just forget again. Just go back to the little bubble we’d made. But that bubble was just another illusion, and I knew better.

  I did.

  As elusive as peace and sleep seemed, I didn’t even notice I’d drifted off until I woke to Jasper setting me into the back of a car. I frowned at him, but he just shook his head and shut the door. Kestrel slid into the driver’s seat as Jasper circled around to climb into the passenger seat.

  “Is something wrong?” I moved to the middle as Rome opened the door to my right and climbed in, but before I could scoot over further, Vaughn climbed in on the other side.

  “We gotta go,” Jasper said, not looking back at me.

  Kestrel sighed and shook his head. But if he had any objections, he didn’t offer them up. It was pitch black outside, the headlights barely cut through the gloom, and no matter how hard I squinted, I couldn’t see past the haze of light as it seemed to disperse against heavy fog.

  “Where are we going?” My question barely seemed to register with any of them. Rome was in the seat next to me, but he wouldn’t look at me. Kestrel tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

  “Rome?” A muscle ticked in his jaw at my plea, but he still didn’t turn his head. I twisted in the seat. Vaughn was my last hope, right?


  The shadows hid his expression from me until another set of headlights hit us. The sadness in his face wrenched my heart.

  “What happened?”

  But no matter what I asked, they just kept driving and no one answered. I finally gave up, and after what seemed like an eternity in this purgatory, I wasn’t ready for the car to stop or Kestrel to say, “We’re here,” in a tone that rang with such finality.

  “Stay in the car,” Jasper ordered, and then he was out. I tried to lean forward, but I still couldn’t see where we were. He wasn’t gone long before the door opened on Vaughn’s side. He let out a little sigh before he climbed out, and then Jasper reached in for me. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Just…trust me.”

  I swallowed hard at the request, but that was what he’d been asking me for all along, right? Wasn’t that what they’d all been asking me for?

  Vaughn wanted truth.

  Rome wanted secrets.

  Jasper wanted trust.

  Kestrel? I glanced at the front of the car, his gaze fixed on mine in the rearview mirror. He’d betrayed me once before. Did I stay in the car? Or no? I hope that question conveyed in a glance. For the longest moment, he didn’t do anything. Then as Jasper’s fingers closed over mine, Kestrel shook his head.

  I opened my mouth, but with one solid pull, Jasper hauled me out of the car. The misty air dampened my face, but it wasn’t the fog or even Jasper that had all the sound dying in my throat.

  Uncle Bradley stood next to another car, his hands in his pockets and his expression dark.

  “Jasper?” His name came out a strangled whisper, but it didn’t slow his steps as he dragged me forward. “Please don’t…”

  “I told you to trust me,” he commented finally. “Maybe you should have.” Then he snapped his gaze up to my uncle. “Here she is, as promised.” Then he shoved me away, and when I would have stumbled, my uncle caught me and I swore, the moment his hands touched me, I screamed.