“You do. At yourself.” His fingers tightened on my shoulder. “You keep it all in.”
“It’s how I deal.”
“Ransom…” No. I didn’t want that tone—the overly stressed, no sleep, my kid has lost his ever-loving mind bullshit tone my father got whenever he thought I needed to see reason. He had enough on his plate. I didn’t need to add to it.
“Did the doc say I could leave? I want to get back to the team house. I’ve got a Chem quiz on Thursday.”
He looked at me for a long time and I felt the weight of his worry, that tight tension only worsening the longer he watched me. But then, I offered him a smile, hoped he got that I didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart while my teammates crowded into the locker room. Moving his hand off my shoulder, my father nodded once, letting the worry go. I knew he wouldn’t ignore it forever.
“Yeah,” he said, lifting the ice from my knee. “Just a little inflammation. You should be good.” My father’s presence was looming, and the way he moved his gaze at me as I pulled off my uniform and limped toward my locker had me just on the tip of losing my temper. But that wouldn’t do either of us any good. It wouldn’t settle the problems I’d created for myself since the accident, or since. “Listen, why don’t you grab your books and come home with me? I have to get back soon, and I know Keira would want to see you.”
“Why you hurrying back?”
Dad nodded at his assistants and a couple of linemen as they passed him. “Leann couldn’t stay all afternoon with her.”
“Leann?” I said, stopping him with my hand on his shoulder. “What about that Aly girl?”
“Who?” He had no clue, that much I could tell by the confusion making my father frown. You’ve got to be kidding me.
“The instructor from Leann’s studio.” That suppressed anger started to bubble as my father shook his head and I threw my balled up shirt onto the bench when I realized Aly had played me. “She said she’d call Mom, like three days ago.”
“Keira didn’t mention it and we’ve been bouncing through some of Leann’s students so your mom can get in a nap or two every day. But they’re still in high school.” Dad yawned, blinking quickly as though he needed to keep his eyelids moving so he wouldn’t fall asleep where he stood. “So you wanna come back with me?”
That was bullshit. You don’t say you’re going to do something and then flake out. Who does that? Assholes do that, but I honestly hadn’t picked up that Aly was a liar. Dad yawned again and I realized I’d have to let some of my temper surface. I didn’t care who this girl was, I’d scare the hell out of her if it meant my parents could get some damn sleep. “No. I’m good Dad. I’ve gotta get dressed and head to Metairie.”
He moved to my side when I shuffled in my locker for my clothes, ignoring the jabs I heard around me from my teammates. They stopped when my father waved them off. “I thought you were going to study.”
“I am,” I said, slamming my locker, “but first I need to go to the studio.”
6
The music coming from the dark studio was familiar. The drumming heartbeat thumped slow, two quick beats, then a lengthened third, some sort of pop that beat gentler than a pulse and yet pounded deeper. As I walked through the glass doors, a few lines from the song resonated, lyrics sung through a rasp, the language I recognized as Portuguese.
Since we were kids Leann had forced Tristian and me to into learning dances whenever a new style caught her attention and this music reminded me of salsa, maybe a slow tango. Whatever the music, it didn’t match my mood or quiet the temper that had my neck hot and my pulse throbbing. That Aly woman had lied, on purpose I figured, just to get away from me.
“No, step on the one, skip the two.” That was Leann in instructor mode, teaching someone I couldn’t see on the other side of the open studio door. The lights were dim, the music loud and there was the distinct smell of floor wax and the ozone from the AC in the large room.
Once I stepped over the threshold, Leann spotted me, frowning as she walked around who I thought was a student. But the woman at her side didn’t look like anyone I’d ever remembered seeing. At least, I didn’t think so when my glance slipped over her long, muscular legs and those three inch black heels that made her strong calf muscles flex.
But then the woman looked away from the floor where she watched her feet caught in a step, practicing whatever dance Leann had been teaching, and I realized this wasn’t a stranger. Aly wasn’t sporting the drab, busted t-shirt and dance pants I’d only ever seen her in before. She wore tight black leggings that came just below her knees under gray biker shorts and the swell of her round ass shook when she swayed and rolled her hips to match the bassline pumping out of the speakers.
“Ransom? What’s wrong?” Leann met me in the middle of the room, barely looking at my leg as I favored my knee. Her voice edged toward a panic. “Is it Keira? Is everything okay?”
“No,” I said, looking over Leann to glare at Aly in the mirror. “She,” I jerked my head at Aly, “lied to me. She promised she’d call Mom about helping her out. She damn well didn’t.” Leann tried to block me as I walked around her, but I moved too quickly to let her be much of a buffer between us.
Aly’s expression transformed from quiet surprise, likely at my anger, right to obvious annoyance. She stepped toward me and lifted her chin as though she was used to being on the defensive. “I didn’t promise anything.” She didn’t back down, and quickly returned her attention to her feet as I stood in front of her, like I was a distraction she couldn’t be bothered with at the moment.
The anger I’d managed to keep below the surface threatened to seep out as I stared down at Aly, but it confused me, too. Plenty of people lied to me—girls who’d tell me whatever they thought I wanted to hear to get me to touch them, coaches who promised I wouldn’t be pushed beyond my limits, teammates who assured me that I’d have fun following them into debauchery. Hell, that wasn’t anything new to me. So why did this woman lying have me itching to slam my fist into Leann’s wall of mirrors?
“You said you’d call. Who does that? Who promises to do something and then just flakes out?”
“Everyone, jackass.” I had to give her credit, Aly didn’t cower away from me. Not when my temper flared and my voice got loud. Not when I stepped right in front of her, glaring at her with my top lip curling up. She just stood there, arms crossed, face tilted like no amount of warning would make her back down. “Besides, I said I’d give her a call. I just haven’t yet.”
“That was days ago. And she needs help now.” This woman was unbelievable. Didn’t she get how desperate we were? Didn’t she understand help meant now?
“She’s not my mother. Why don’t you help her?”
“You think I don’t want to?”
“Modi, I have no idea what you think. And I really don’t care.”
“You’re a selfish, greedy…”
“Hey, you grosoulye bata,” that cool attitude fractured just a little and when Aly’s bottom eyelid twitched and I saw a quick rush of anger, one that could probably match my own. She jabbed her finger in my chest and I let her, floored that she had to nerve to touch me. I didn’t quite get why I let it slide, why I didn’t brush her hand away. The anger in the room felt heavy and hot, like something you should avoid, but are too tempted to test how quickly you’ll be burned. Aly’s eyes were wide and the low light around us glinted against the gleam like glass. “You don’t know me. Don’t you dare start slinging insults at me.”