Beautiful Hell: A Contemporary High School Bully Romance Page 21

  Kira thinks about it for a while, her brow furrowing.

  “So, you’re doing it for his client list…” Her conclusion seems sound.

  “They’re big money, Kira.”

  I’m not lying. But I’m not giving her the full truth, either. It doesn’t feel right. However, it’s for her own good. “Just be careful, Elias. I know my dad,” she says, slipping a hand around my waist as we keep walking. “He’s up to something…”

  “Whatever it is, it will fail,” I reply. “He’s got nothing to go after. My charity is pristine, both legally and financially. All I want is access to Fowler & Malone’s guest lists, which he’s already agreed to provide. It’ll be okay, Kira.”

  Exhaling sharply, she looks up at me. “You’re a devious fucker, aren’t you, Elias Dressler?”

  “You wouldn’t have me any other way.” I stop and kiss her, pulling her into a hug. Her heart beats against mine, and I take a deep breath, inhaling her scent. I’m drunk on Kira, and I never want this feeling to go away. It’s what I’ve been missing, for as long as I can remember.

  “Yeah, I seem to have a soft spot for devious fuckers,” Kira giggles as she pulls back so we can continue our walk.

  “How’s your ankle?”

  She gives me a surprised look. “Holy shit…”

  “What?”

  “I almost forgot about it,” Kira says. “I think… It doesn’t really hurt right now.”

  Smiling, I take her hand into mine again. “We’ll get you up and running in no time. It’s just your brain we have to fight against.”

  For the first time in what feels like forever, I see hope imprinted into Kira’s features. Her expression is luminous. Her eyes are big and shining with the idea that it doesn’t have to end badly for her. I’m willing to bet she’ll already itching to get back into that dance hall. Proof that sometimes, all you need, is someone in your corner, rooting for you.

  “Tell you what… Tomorrow morning, we’ll go speak with Madame Olenna, so she can put your name down on the auditions list. What do you say, Kira?”

  She doesn’t hesitate for longer than a few seconds. “Okay. But I’m horribly rusty, Elias…”

  “You need practice. That’s all.”

  “Again, you make it sound a little too easy,” she cajoles me, but I am undeterred.

  “It won’t be easy, but it is simple. There’s a difference. And I’ll be with you, every step of the way,” I say, gazing out into the sandy distance. The bay is far behind us now, and we’re about to go through one of the private beaches. They’re basically abandoned at this hour. There isn’t even a park ranger in sight.

  Kira sighs deeply. “Why are you helping me with this?”

  I give her a sideways glance, tempted to tell her everything that’s been going through my head since I first saw her on that gurney, when she had her accident. But I think she needs a reason to accept my help, not a reason to feel sorry for herself.

  “I mean,” I start, eyebrow raised and a finger on my chin, “I’ve got to thank you somehow, for allowing me to pop your cherry?”

  She slaps my arm, her mouth forming a very perfect ‘O’.

  “Okay. Okay. Just take it as payment for allowing me to sink myself balls deep inside you whenever the hell I please.”

  Now, her eyes are just as wide as her mouth. “Jesus Frickin Christ, Elias! Ew.”

  “That’s not what you were yelling last-”

  Now, she’s full on hitting me, punching me. I catch her around the waist and lift her easily. Within an instant, she’s settled again – shock in her eyes, a smile on her lips. I catch her gaze and find my way into the depths of her soul.

  “I’m helping you,” I say, my voice calm, controlled, honest. “Because (a) you are too talented to quit.” I can see the beginnings of tears starting to pool in her eyes and I’m not ready for the crying just yet – regardless of the fact that they might be happy tears. “And,” I add, setting her down, “because, (b), it’s more convenient for me, business-wise, if William Malone ends up appointing someone else to run his company.”

  “You’re an ass,” she chuckles.

  “And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

  She smiles at that and we settle down again. There’s a part of me that’s not being 100% honest with Kira – a lie by omission is still a lie, after all. But for now, it’s the best way to go about things. She doesn’t need to know that I’m in the middle of dismantling her father’s empire. When the walls come tumbling down, I’ll be there to pull her away before she gets lost beneath the rubble.

  One way or another, Kira will live a full and beautiful life. Our families failed us both, in more than one way. But we are not doomed to repeat their foolish mistakes.

  We can do better. And we will. Provided I get her father out of the way.

  21

  Kira

  Time spent with Elias seems to go quickly and slowly all at the same time. But the most noted thing when it comes to whatever it is that we have going on, is the fact that I just can’t seem to get enough of him.

  For the past few days, we talked, and we fucked and when we were in school it felt like I was holding my breath, waiting to be able to dissolve into his arms again. He wanted to parade right into Trinity High with me on his arm, but I wasn’t ready. Thankfully, he respected that, though he didn’t hold back from pressing his body against mine whenever we found ourselves alone together. In the handicap stall in the staff bathroom. Against the vacuum cleaner in the janitor’s closet. Nowhere was off limits. It’s amazing how all the hate we’d targeted toward each other in the past few years, could turn into something so much more beautiful.

  Last night, he managed to pull me further out of my shell than I’ve been pulled ever since my accident. Perfectly wrapped in shiny pink gift wrap, he presented me with what I’m sure was the first of many gifts. Somehow, he’d managed to sneak a moment to himself and, without me noticing, sent his assistant on her way to make the purchase.

  After opening the present, I was even more shocked than I had been when first presented with it. Leotards, and a pair of ballet shoes. I was close to hyperventilating. I didn’t want to put them on. It was already hard enough to look at them. But the look in Elias’ eyes. Jesus and Mary, the look in his eyes could make me do just about any goddamn thing. I didn’t understand it. I hated it. I wanted to run away from it. But when he locked his arms around me and whispered, “Dance for me, Kira,” I just about melted.

  For the first time in what felt like forever, I slipped into ballet gear and I stretched my body until there was nothing left to stretch. In the middle of his oversized bedroom, I didn’t just dance for Elias, I danced for myself. I danced like there was no one else in the room – no one to laugh, no one to cry, no one to judge. By the time I was done, completing my routine with the most perfect Fouetté, I felt nothing but pride. My mind didn’t spin. My body didn’t crave the Oxy. And my ankle didn’t scream at me in rebellion.

  Now, back at home, there’s that song by Katrina and the Waves, “Walking on Sunshine” playing on a loop in my head. My dad’s not home. I’m not sure how that matters. Maybe I’m afraid that he’ll see the glow on my face and know that Elias is one hundred percent responsible. Despite the fact that he’s playing the friend rather than the enemy, I know that his feud with Elias is far from being done.

  He won’t like the fact that I’m seeing Elias. I also have no intentions of telling him that that’s the case. But if he asks, I’m not sure I’ll deny it either.

  I slip into the shower, reveling in the foamy lather and cool water. My muscles are sore. My insides are tender, particularly my pussy. Elias sure knows how to pound me into oblivion. I love that about him. He’s rough and tender at the same time. He never puts himself before me. Elias will spend hours eating me out, just so he can watch me squirm and come and scream his name, over and over again.

  I push all thoughts of him away, knowing full well that I’ll spend forever and a ha
lf in the shower, trying to take off an edge that I shouldn’t have. Plus, today’s the day that I actually put my name on the audition list.

  The next hour is spent getting ready and rushing off to school. Between the doors of Trinity High, I feel a little less confident than I did when I was back home. Passing by the principal’s office, I straighten my shirt, mentally preparing myself for Madame Olenna. I haven’t even spoken to her in a few weeks. It’s time to set things straight and give this all another go.

  “You can’t do this!” a shrill voice cuts through my thoughts. It’s coming from the principal’s office. It sounds familiar.

  “Uh-oh,” I mumble, taking a couple of steps to the side as the door swings open.

  Giselle’s mother comes out, red as a boiled lobster, her otherwise beautiful features contorted with pure rage. Giselle is right behind her, pale—with the exception of the crimson and purple bruises, the split lip and the swollen eye. It’s a picture I’d gaze upon for hours, if given the chance. Better than anything Picasso might’ve come up with.

  “I will not let this go until I take you and Trinity High and that bitch Kira Malone to court!” Giselle’s mother shouts, pointing an angry finger back at the principal, who can’t even be bothered to get up from his chair.

  He sees me first, then Giselle. She scowls at me, while I offer a mild shrug, struggling to keep a straight face. Then, her mother turns around and stills, suddenly blank.

  “You!” She quickly comes to, redirecting her anger in my direction. “You! You’ll pay for this!”

  “You got me expelled, you stupid slut!” Giselle spits, her eyes glistening with tears. Under any other circumstance, I’d have felt sorry for her. But I don’t. I thrive from her misery, even though it’s only a fraction of everything she put me through. There’s a part of this that is funny, however. The girl with the black eye gets to take the hike while all I have left of this mess is a new haircut. For once in my life, I’m thankful that my father is who he is.

  “I’m not the one who set a student’s hair on fire,” I reply dryly.

  “You will pay for this!” Giselle’s mother comes closer, almost towering over me, but I stand my ground, my gaze fixed on her.

  “YOU had better control yourself,” I say. “Your daughter tripped me, causing me to fall and break my ankle. She admitted it to another student. Then, she continued bullying me. And then, she thought that wasn’t enough, so she lit my fucking hair on fire. Maybe focus on reeducating your daughter instead of yelling at me for what she did.”

  She’s stunned. Giselle rolls one eye, since the other is still swollen shut.

  “Maybe make sure she doesn’t end up killing someone, someday, just because she didn’t get her way,” I continue. “What kind of mother are you, to come here and shout at me, the fucking victim?! What kind of mother are you, to threaten this school and the people your daughter has injured, just so you can… what, exactly? Later claim you did everything you could for your precious little Giselle?!” I laugh, mockingly. “Give me a break! You aren’t doing everything you can. You are doing the absolute worst you can by enabling her psychopathic behavior. She needs treatment, not Trinity High.”

  “Fuck you!” Giselle blurts, and her mother raises a hand to silence her.

  Taking another step, she’s so close that my breath gets short. I really hope she doesn’t do something stupid. I’m not above punching Giselle’s mother, too, if I have to.

  “You have a lot of nerve, Kira Malone,” the woman says, her voice trembling. “Someday, it’ll get you in trouble.”

  “You mean the kind of trouble Giselle got herself into? No, thanks. I happen to respect my peers and accept when I’m not good at something,” I reply. “Now, get out of my face before I give you an eye to match your daughter’s.”

  She gasps, and I walk away, my entrails fizzling. My heartbeat is erratic, but holy shit, that felt amazing! Giselle is speechless, and so is her mother. Neither will dare to come after me. They can’t even dispute anything I’ve just said. It’s the truth.

  I’m smiling, ear to ear, as I catch a glimpse of Elias going into class, farther down the hallway. I’ll be with him soon, after I speak to Madame Olenna. There is so much badass in my bloodstream right now, I can do anything.

  The sun is out. And so is Giselle.

  It’s one of the best days of my life.

  22

  Kira

  Madame Olenna stares at me from behind her desk. The office is tiny, a mere annex to the dance hall. It’s always cramped and suffocating, but it’s even more uncomfortable now, as I sit in the guest chair, waiting for her to reply.

  I’ve just submitted my name for the auditions, after briefly explaining my battle with physical recovery, along with the fact that I’ve had other serious personal problems to deal with, but I’m not sure she understands. Or maybe she doesn’t want to accept my excuses—because that’s all they are. Excuses.

  The silence is almost deafening. The air is loaded with heavy pressure. It’s hard to focus or breathe at this point, and my ankle is starting to hurt again. No, dammit. Stop. I’m on a roll. I can’t crash and burn now!

  Her voice startles me. “Let me make something clear, Miss Malone,” Madame Olenna says, her Russian accent sounding like music to my ears. I miss her direction. Her Russian cursing. I miss her.

  “Yes, Madame Olenna,” I mumble meekly.

  “The auditions begin in four weeks. You haven’t trained in almost a year.”

  I take a deep breath. “That is correct…”

  “If you wish to audition, I cannot stop you, Miss Malone. But I’m afraid you will make a fool of yourself…” Her assessment is cruel but realistic. I feel like a balloon that just met with a needle. “However,” she adds, and my ears twitch unexpectedly, “with an insane amount of practice, you might just get away with it. I cannot guarantee the lead role, but you could at least spring for the Sugar Plum Fairy.”

  I nod enthusiastically. “Yes, Madame Olenna. I will do whatever it takes.”

  My heart swells. I’m about to jump out of my chair, but the old prima ballerina isn’t done ruffling my feathers just yet. She’s entitled to that much, after all the practice time I’ve missed out on.

  “I will train you. Twice every day, in the morning before class and in the evening after class,” she says sternly. “You will not miss a single session. If you do, I will kick you out of ballet class and let another girl dance in your place. Am I making myself clear?”

  I nod again, unable to say much else.

  “You will be punctual. You will do additional stretching at home. I expect you to run for at least three miles every day, as well. You must work your ankle until the ghost pains go away,” Madame Olenna continues, and I’m suddenly baffled. My blood runs cold.

  “The ghost pains…” I murmur, wondering if she knows exactly what she’s talking about.

  Madame Olenna smirks. “Do you think I’m blind? It’s written all over your face. You’ve been stupid, relying on painkillers instead of pushing yourself to recover. Just like I did once, a very long time ago, and ended up teaching ballet instead of dancing ballet.”

  The revelation hits me like a sledgehammer. Suddenly, I can imagine her struggling with addiction, trading one pain for another, gradually wrecking herself in order to stop feeling anything. I can feel her misery as though it were mine. Madame Olenna is my Ghost of Ballet Future, and I cannot ignore her plight or her warning.

  She’s been where I’ve been. Only… she didn’t see a way out until it was too late. That much is obvious.

  “Commit yourself, Miss Malone. Commit to ballet. You have pain? You dance. You are sad? You dance. You are happy? You dance! Commit to it, Miss Malone, and you will make Miss Misty Copeland look like Elaine, from Seinfeld.”

  I snort a chuckle. She slipped that one right in, mercilessly, and it’s impossible not to laugh. That’s Madame Olenna. With one hand she slaps the crap out of you. With the other hand she caresses y
ou and pulls you out of the mud.

  “I commit to dancing, Madame Olenna,” I tell her, as honestly as I possibly can. “I commit to ballet, and I welcome your guidance. Thank you for this opportunity.”

  She gives me a smile, and I spot a flicker of warmth in her cold blue eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re welcome. Now, go to class. I’ll see you here at 5pm on the dot, Kira,” she replies, waving me away.

  Madame Olenna is calling me by my first name again. I stifle a grin as I get up and head for class, giddy enough to climb the walls and dance on the ceiling.

  The universe feels a little more right again.

  23

  Kira

  Every muscle in my body hurts after the first practice session. Madame Olenna can be quite the beast when it comes to demanding excellence, but I cannot resent her for it. My mind’s in the right place, and so is my heart. I just need to get my body to follow, as well.

  It took twenty minutes of feverish stretching and a full hour of practicing various steps, but I feel fucking amazing. Yes, I’m in a lot of pain, but it’s the good kind. I’m sore all over, and it actually takes my attention away from the ankle. I’ve thought about taking Oxy throughout the day. My mouth is dry, now, as I think about it again.

  But I can’t. I can’t fall. Not when I’m getting this far, after so long. The odds are in my favor, and the pill bottle is at home, anyway. Elias catches up with me outside school, scooping me up into a hug. We kiss, and I’m buzzing on the inside, laughing as he keeps my toes above the ground.

  “I’m not the type to fawn over anything, but dammit, Kira, I’m so goddamn proud of you,” he says, smiling as he settles me back on my feet.