Page 30 of Run, Starlight (The Royal Ballet Presents #3)

MARCELLA

Kyle Kelper .

My memories of him aren’t distinct. I can’t think of the color of his hair or his tone.

All I know about the person who was instrumental in my brother's final days is in that file. I bet he didn’t think it would come to this when he was pushing Fabrizio around, tormenting him, making him wish he was anyone or anything else, including dead.

When he raped my brother and told him his life would be worse if he said anything, I doubt he ever thought one day he’d pay for his sins.

Fabrizio, Fabrizio, Fabrizio. His name is a whispered chant of vengeance running constantly through my mind. He’s the driving force that pushes me forward today as much as he was before. The only difference is that now I know how to settle the score.

He’s not worried about covering his tracks, and I can easily spot his heavy steps printed into the dirt. I follow him with caution, the knife never leaving my hands. I hear his cries getting closer, and I take a fortifying breath before arriving at the clearing where he stands .

His hair is dark, and he’s balding on top, taller than me, but definitely not as big as the brothers.

He shakes from head to toe, his whimpers pathetic as he looks around the forest. I could stab him now while he has his back to me.

It could all end in a blink of an eye, and I’m back at the beach house for lunch.

I clear my throat instead, and he turns my way, his face lit up.

“Oh, thank god! Who are you?—”

He runs my way, but I lift the knife. It shakes between us, and I don’t look as frightening as I should, but his whole body trembles. Maybe I have the edge here.

“Kyle Kelper,” I say, it’s not a question.

“Yes, that’s me. You’re safe with me. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a father. I’m a good person. I don’t know why I woke up in this place, but I should be home.”

Fabrizio. Fabrizio. Fabrizio.

I step closer, never lowering my defense.

It doesn’t matter how shaky I might look.

He takes me in for the first time, really looking at the person in front of him.

It doesn’t click at first. He recognizes me, but he doesn’t have any clue where.

I suppose I don’t blame him. I look a lot different, and I was just the little sister of a loser he enjoyed picking on.

He stares for a long moment, and his mouth opens like he’s going to ask who I am, but then awareness lights his eyes, and he closes his mouth.

“You’re that girl, the little sister of the guy who killed himself,” he says.

The words don’t ring true, even though they are. I’m the little sister of the guy who killed himself, but that doesn’t cover the true story.

“The guy who killed himself?” I say slowly, my head tipping to the side .

Fabrizio. Fabrizio. Fabrizio. The chanting grows louder, sharp and high, undoing me from the inside out.

“Yeah, senior year. I remember you at the funeral and in school after. You were just a kid.”

That was my first year in high school, right after his death.

People left me alone. I barely remembered those years because the grief was too much for me to carry.

I know I passed my classes. I know I did enough to graduate and start dancing full-time, but I couldn’t stand being in that place anymore.

When I don’t reply and don’t lower the knife, Kyle takes a step back.

“Say his name.”

It’s not much to ask. If you’re going to torment and rape someone, you should be able to say their names.

“Whose name?” He takes another step back.

I advance, rolling my shoulders back and feeling the full force of that file. There’s only one truth, and Kyle can’t hide anymore. It’s coming for him as it’s coming to all of us.

“My brother.” I spit. “Say his name.”

“I-I don’t remember. What’s happening here? Who are you? Where are we?”

“Kyle Kelper, you’ll die at the end of my knife regardless. You should tell the truth before it’s too late.”

His eyebrows push together, and I can practically hear the stone hit the bottom of his gut when his stomach sinks.

“I-I didn’t know him well. It’s really sad what he did to himself.” He sounds like he’s practiced this, and that makes me all the more sick. Did he know exactly how responsible he was all along? Was he afraid someone would eventually ask questions?

“If you didn’t know him well, then why did you target him?” I ask, ignoring when he looks around for a way to run. “You could have chosen anyone. Why my brother?”

The blade glistens with the indirect sun coming through the trees. It really is so profoundly beautiful. It’s almost too pure a death for someone like him.

His anxiety grows until beads of sweat drip down his face, and it might as well be a flashing sign devoted to his guilt.

“Say the name of the man you raped before you leave this earth, Kyle.” Bitterness coats my tongue when I say the words.

Bile rises from my stomach, and I know the moment he says my brother’s name is the moment he’ll die.

There’s no forgiveness for him. Hearing the name coming from his lips will only light a fire inside me, but it’s the right thing to do.

He doesn’t get to stick to his lie and act like Fabrizio was some kid who killed himself.

“I didn’t rape anyone! Especially not a dude! You’ve got the wrong person!”

He gets red in the face, and I realize the years were not kind to him.

I can’t remember how he looked at seventeen, but now he has hard lines over his cheeks and around his eyes.

His coloring is off, and his eyes are empty.

I should let him know I don’t have the wrong person, and that the truth will set him free.

He might find peace in the afterlife if he surrenders his sins, but then I smile. A tiny smile that only grows bigger.

I hope he never finds peace, not now in his last moments, not ever. I hope the lines in his face are marks that he was treated just as badly as he treated people. I hope this is the easiest moment for him, and in the afterlife, he only meets pain and nothing else.

Kyle jumps backward when I make my move. He whimpers as he looks at me. I know I look maniacal with the smile planted on my lips, but spilling his blood is going to feel good, and I won’t deny myself.

I’m not a trained assassin, but he’s not either. He’s tired and disoriented after a couple of days in this place. He’s an easy target when I’m ready, fed, and a trained athlete.

It’s not hard to be quicker than him. My sneakers crunch the leaves covering the ground, while he scrambles in his bare feet. My knees are strong and squared in a plié when I bend them before I jump into his back, grabbing his neck with my left arm as I sink the knife with the right.

His screams are music to my ears, and a full-body shiver takes me when his blood sprays from his neck to my arm and down to the forest ground. Kyle falls to his knees, and I take the opportunity to push him to the side and make him turn to his back.

“Stop! Why are you doing this?” he cries, trying to stop the blood with his hand.

“You raped my brother.” I stab him in his stomach.

“You took his joy, his happy years, his sense of self.” I stab him in his chest. He cries and screams; his words don’t make sense anymore when blood starts spilling from between his lips.

“You made him a victim. You took everything from him.” Stab.

Stab . “Fabrizio Serra. Fabrizio Serra.”

My hands almost slip with all the blood, and I throw the big knife away, reaching for the bone one between my breasts.

“Fabrizio Serra,” I say one last time before sinking the bone knife under his chin.

He shakes under me and gives out his last miserable breath. Hot tears stream down my cheeks. I reach for the big knife again, leaving the bone knife where it is.

His flesh makes a disgusting noise as I put the knife in and out a hundred different times, I can’t see where I’m hitting, not when there’s so much blood and so many tears. I cough into my sorrow, wishing for something more but finding nothing but his flesh and blood.

A hand closes over mine, interrupting the course of my knife. “There you go, you’re done now.”

I release the knife, and someone takes it away. At the same time, someone lifts me under my arms, and I’m carried away from Kyle. My head hits a warm chest. I’m shaking, and I hear Enzo’s humming Giselle into my ear.

It is my favorite ballet.

“Is she okay?” Lucciano’s voice asks.

“She was reborn,” Enzo replies.