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7

Bianaca

Stepping through the tunnel was like diving into a deep pool of blistering hot water. Immediately, the light stabbed at my arms, the pain intense and sudden, and I scratched at my skin with a groan of pain. My hand slipped from Kace’s as pure white light replaced the darkness I’d almost grown accustomed to. It blinded me, my eyes stinging as if I’d stared into the sun too long, and more and more pain radiated down my arms.

A strangled gasp escaped me as I finally exited the tunnel of light, landing on my knees on a surface that was most definitelynotrocky dirt.

No, it was white, the tiles polished so meticulously, I could see my reflection in them—my disheveled blonde hair, my too pale face, and my sunken cheekbones.

The room was also familiar.

I blinked, attempting to allow my eyes to adjust to the dim waiting room I’d fallen into. Kace landed with a grunt beside me, his red hair falling haphazardly into his face. Only Heath remained on his feet, his eyes shrewd and calculating as he surveyed the room we’d landed in.

Plastic chairs sat in the center of the room, two rows of five. A drinking fountain sat behind the chairs on a slightly raised dais, its steel siding beginning to rust with age. Directly adjacent to the fountain was a makeshift locker room—nothing but cubbies to hold the girls’ belongings and a single bench. Bathrooms were visible to the left.

On the other side of the small waiting area was a door that I knew led to offices. The tiles transitioned into wooden boards, and a single desk blocked the way to the cubicles resting inside. There was also a tiny store that sold everything from stylish leotards to shorts and scrunchies.

In front of the chairs were glass windows that looked into a gymnasium. The corrugated walls were painted a hideous brown-yellow and had only a few windows looking into the parking lot. The ceiling curved steeply upwards, resembling that of a warehouse instead of a gym, and was covered in multiple fans, all swirling rapidly to provide the stuffy room with circulation. Blue mats littered the ground, along with six balance beams—three only a couple inches off the ground—and bars with a foam pit beneath them.

Victory Gymnastics, the gym I’d been going to since I was a little girl. The gym I sold my soul to train at, forgoing a car in order to pay for my lessons.

“What are we doing here?” My voice trembled ever so slightly, especially when Heath whipped his head in my direction, one eyebrow raised.

“You recognize this place?” His nose wrinkled with distaste at the familiar, sweaty smell.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “It’s where I train,” I explained, turning to address the room at large. Maria hugged her arms around her chest, her green eyes wide in her face, while Kelly and her men simply blinked at me wordlessly. Beau took a step closer, as if he meant to comfort me, but I immediately backed away.

Instinctively, I reached towards the hand nearest to mine, clasping it tightly and giving it a squeeze. His hand tightened around mine almost imperceptibly, his rings brushing against my skin.

Aiden.

“Why are we here?” he demanded, his tone acerbic. He threw accusatory eyes at Heath, as if the brown-haired class president held all the answers. I was beginning to believe he did.

My distrust for him grew exponentially by the second, until I feared I would explode from the sensation. Still, I didn’t focus on him—or anyone, really—as I stared intently through the windows at the gymnasium I knew would be stifling hot and humid.

“What does this have to do with lust?” I whispered, my voice shaking. Aiden’s hand tightened around mine once before he gave it a squeeze and released it. I wanted to cry out, to beg him to take it back, but he was already stalking towards Heath, stabbing one finger into his chest and glaring at the other man with so much anger, I feared Heath would incinerate.

Instead, the crazy man just continued flashing that same disarming smile, only this time, there was the slightest tightening of skin around the corners of his mouth.

“Why do you think I have all the answers?” Heath questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

Aiden growled. “Don’t you?”

“I mean, I think Bianaca in a leotard is hot as fuck,” Tanner piped in, ignoring the livid glare Beau threw his way. “But I’m pretty sure Kelly isn’t imagining our girl in a leotard at night while she gets herself off.”

Caleb looked seconds away from strangling him. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

“Awww. How adorable.” Tanner offered him a sharp-toothed grin before turning towards Kace, who was nearest to him. “He’s standing up for his girlfriend. I think my heart just threw up a teeny tiny bit.”

“She’s not my—”

“These circles,” Heath interrupted, forcing all eyes back on him, “often show the aspects of ourselves we choose not to look at too closely. Or in this case, the side of lust that is dangerous and wicked. The side that drives people to do despicable acts.” He turned those dark eyes onto me, though for once, he wasn’t smiling. “You need to face your monsters, doll, or we’ll all be stuck here.”

“No.” I was shaking my head before he’d even finished speaking. “No. I won’t.”

I couldn’t.

Not when the pain was too raw, too real, too prominent. It stabbed at something deep inside of me, something already gushing blood, until my hands were covered in the thick, red liquid. My heart shattered, every piece cutting up my insides like glass.