His eyes grow wide as they meet mine, and my throat constricts painfully with anxiety. Paige’s attack hurts me deeply, and my mind flashes back to the expression on her face when she saw me walking into the club this weekend. But I can’t speak up to defend myself as the image of Fin in the hospital replaces Paige’s face, quickly followed by that boy Troy who confronted Nicolo at the club.
My gut twists as those memories are quickly followed by the pain of Nicolo shoving inside my ass to punish me for speaking my mind. I’m terrified of him, and I’m utterly confused by how my body can still respond so eagerly to his attention even after he can be so violent and cruel. Despite how much I hate that he’s broken two people’s arms since I came to Rosehill–and apparently killed someone in cold blood–I can’t help but be aroused when he touches me.
“Nicolo was an asshole long before Anya came along,” Whitney says, stepping in as she reaches the cubbies as well. “You can’t hold her responsible for who he hurts. What he did to Fin was not her fault. And if I didn’t know better, Paige, I might think you’re holding it against Anya that her boyfriend buys her nice things, and no one seems to want to buy you anything. Besides, you didn’t seem too upset the other night when Anya got us into Danza without having to wait in line and bottle service to boot.”
“Oooh,” Logan pipes in from his spot on the mats as he lets his partner stumble out of her spin. “Oops.” He flinches as she topples to the floor with a squeak, and he reaches down to help her up once more.
Paige scoffs, her mouth opening in horror. “I amnotjealous,” she snaps, flipping her bleach-blonde hair over her shoulder before she storms from the room.
Robbie looks awkward as I meet his eyes reluctantly, hoping I won’t find judgment there.
“I better get going, or I’ll be late,” he says, his expression uncomfortable. “But I’ll see you after school tomorrow, right? We can put in more practice then.” He heads swiftly for the door as he speaks and gives me a quick wave before disappearing from the room.
My shoulders slump as I pray that Paige’s comment didn’t just cost me my new partner, and tears sting my eyes as I feel my cage closing in tighter around me. Turning my attention to my own shoes, I swap them out for my boots.
“Hey, don’t worry about Paige. She’s just got a stick up her butt,” Whitney says, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
A startled laugh bursts through my lips. “Thanks,” I say, grateful for my one friend who hasn’t completely abandoned me.
“Can I walk with you to the bus stop? Trent and I are done practicing for the day.”
“We are?” her partner asks in surprise.
“Yep!” Whitney reaches for her bag and flashes me a smile.
“Isn’t that the opposite way you normally go?”
Whitney shrugs. “My boyfriend’s picking me up. I’ll just tell him to get me on the other side of campus today.”
I smile gratefully. “That would be really nice.”
Crisp fall air stings my cheeks as we exit the dance building, and our breath, still warm from practice, billows out before us as we walk.
“Are you okay?” Whitney asks after a moment of quiet between us. “You seem like you’ve been more stressed and tense since you and Nicolo got together. You seemed troubled as we went into Danza this weekend, and then you left without Nicolo. I thought maybe you two had a fight.”
My stomach twists as she hits the nail on the head. I look at her with startled eyes, surprised by her observation when everyone else seems to think I’m enjoying living the high life with all my new clothes and fancy dates.
“No, yes–I mean, everything is great. Dating Nicolo is great,” I object, but it sounds false, even to my ears. Still, I don’t want to say anything that might put Whitney in danger unwittingly.
Whitney’s lips tilt skeptically as she brushes a wisp of her black pixie cut out of her eyes. Stopping in her tracks, she turns to face me as she gently grips my arm. “I know what’s really going on, Anya, and that’s not called dating.”
My heart stutters as I see the truth in her eyes.
“You know, I was faced with a similar situation at the end of high school,” she says casually, resuming our trek after a moment.
“You did?” A hint of doubt tinges my tone despite my best efforts.
Whitney glances my way with a sad smile. “I used to live in a pretty Russian neighborhood, and someone from a Bratva family took an interest in me my senior year. A few years older than me, he was already in college when he saw me walking home from school one day. He offered me a proposition of sorts. In exchange for meeting his sexual desires, which he warned me could be somewhat dark, he offered to pay my college tuition, housing, everything I would need for as long as I gave myself to him.”
Icy horror trickles down my spine as I realize the situation hits far closer to home than I would have guessed. Only, it doesn’t sound like he bullied her into the agreement when she refused.
“I was poor enough, with no possibility of becoming a dancer or going to Rosehill by any other means, so I accepted.” Her lips spread into a warmer smile, and she releases a gentle chuckle. “I have to admit, I ended up falling for the guy, and I quite enjoy the arrangement if I’m perfectly honest. I’m not sure I’ll stop seeing him even after I graduate.”
“Really?” I ask, shocked.
Whitney wraps her arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “Sometimes it can be fun to share someone’s dark desires,” she says. “Once I found my peace with the arrangement, I realized it could be quite pleasurable.”
A deep blush warms my cheeks as my mind flashes back to the sex club Nicolo took me to on our first night together and how I came as he whipped me.