Page 45 of Desired By you (Always & Forever #3)
Chapter Thirty-Six
Gabriella
“What do you mean, you quit?” Chloe, the stage manager, barks. “You are one of our main girls, Gabriella, and you’ve left us high and dry recently.”
“I know. I know. I’m so sorry. I just have some personal stuff going on, and I can’t commit anymore. I’m here to hand back my things and clear out my locker.”
“Could you at least work tonight as your final shift. Luna is out as she’s on vacation, and I need another dancer.”
I want to say no, should say no, but I find myself agreeing, and maybe it’s the closure I need. A farewell to the part of my life that’s now died. Something that brought me so much joy has now flipped my world upside down and been used against me.
“Sure, I’ll work tonight.”
My final shift was bittersweet. I’ll miss the feeling of being on stage gave me, the bright lights and the way my adrenaline spiked and pumped round my body.
How free I felt. The only other thing that has given me that feeling is Brad, and now I’ve lost him too.
Thinking about him makes my skin feel too tight for my body, and makes it hard to breathe.
I hang up my leotard and mask for a final time and wave goodbye to the girls before I head out to the parking lot, heaviness weighing on my chest as I walk away from one of the places that helped me find a part of myself that I spent years trying to suppress.
I am just a step away from my car when a large hooded figure steps in front of me, startling me. On instinct, I grip the strap of my tote tightly, and try to stand tall, fearing he wants my purse.
“You were great tonight,” he drawls, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I can see why they like you.” The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Why do I feel like I’ve heard this voice before?
I don’t say anything as I try to step around him, but he steps in front of me.
My internal alarm bells start going off.
We get the odd guy hanging around outside, but usually security is out here moving them on.
I glance over my shoulder, but I can’t see anyone.
I step backward and he turns his face just enough for me to notice he has a tattoo of a scorpion below his left eye and it unnerves me.
He leans in closer, his body mere inches from mine, and I swallow down the scream I want to let out.
“You’re prettier than I thought.” There’s a slight slur to his voice that tells me he’s intoxicated, and this may give me the upper hand here if he were to try anything, as he may be unsteady on his feet.
“I need you to get out of my way, please,” I say as confidently as I can.
He chuckles, but it’s deep, calculated, and makes me uneasy.
“Sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll be seeing you around.” He steps aside and I listen to his boots crunch against the gravel and when I think he’s far enough away I quick step to my car, jumping inside and locking the doors.
My trembling hands turn on the car, and my heart sinks when the warning symbol for a flat tire flashes on my dashboard.
Panic floods me, and my whole body trembles.
I fish out my phone and dial the only number I know I can.
The one person who knows my secret and, even though we aren’t talking, I pray he answers.
It only takes two rings for him to answer, and as soon as his rough voice sounds down the phone, I choke out a sob. “Brad, I—”
‘Where are you?”
“Diamonds. Can you come and get me?”
Without hesitation, he says, “I’m on my way.”
Brad arrives in record time. He took one look at my car and told me two of my tires had been slashed. He barely said another word to me, just called a pick-up service who took my car to a local garage.
The silence in his car now is suffocating.
There’s so much I want to say, want to ask, but I’m too scared.
My head and heart are stuck in two different places.
Stuck between ruining mine and my family’s life, again, if I don’t do as Patrick says, and hurting myself and maybe Brad in the process, because the fact he can’t even look at me tells me he is struggling with something just as much as me.
He pulls up outside my apartment building and puts the car in park, never releasing his firm grip on the steering wheel as he looks out the windscreen, avoiding eye contact with me.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” I say quietly, twisting the bangle on my wrist that hasn’t been removed since he put it there.
“You’re welcome.”
“Why did you come and rescue me?” I ask, not sure if I really want to know the answer.
I didn’t tell him about the man in the parking lot.
I didn’t see the need to worry him. He turns to face me, and it’s then I see the pain in his eyes.
They look hollow and empty, all the light in them gone.
He looks like a man haunted, and I want to take away whatever is causing him this pain.
“You called, so I came.”
I tilt my head, willing him to elaborate. He lets out an exasperated breath and runs his hand along his jaw. “Gabriella, it doesn’t matter who you’re with, if we haven’t spoken in months, years, or if you hate me. I will always answer your call.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, praying I don’t break down.
“If you call, then I run to you. It’s as simple as that.” He turns back to look out the windscreen, and I scoop up my bags, needing to break free from this car. It’s too much, my emotions, my guilt, my pain.
“Goodbye,” I manage to say before closing the car door and walking towards my apartment, feeling his eyes on me with every step I take and it takes what little strength I have left not to turn around and beg him to take me home with him while I tell him everything.