Page 29 of The Devil and His Goddess (Sinners Do It Better #2)
Harper
I SLOWLY PEELED MY EYES open. It was the only part of my body that I could move as I lay on my side. The white comforter should’ve been warm, but all I felt deep into my bones was cold . Iced over from the inside out with brittle pain.
My eyes burned from all the crying I’d done, but I forced them to stay open as I caught sight of the figure beside me. Perseus sat in a chair right by the bed. Long golden hair haloed his head and stood out starkly against the black shirt and sweats he wore. His elbows were braced on his knees, and his head rested in his ring-free hands. He didn’t even seem to be breathing, just as frozen on the outside as I was on the inside.
Something was gripped tightly in my hand, and I barely managed to lift my hand enough to see the pink leotard in my grasp. My gift. My lifeline.
Perseus immediately dropped his hands and looked up at the sound of me moving. His handsome face was completely blank, revealing nothing of what was happening inside of his head as he scooted to the edge of his chair and fixed his rapt attention on me.
My mouth dried, and I had to swallow multiple times before I could whisper, “Please tell me it was all a nightmare.”
His calm mask fell, unable to disguise the pain any longer.
I didn’t need to see his crestfallen expression to know the truth. The raw ache between my legs, the dull pain of bruises on my thighs, and the hollow misery claiming my heart were enough to know.
I squeezed my eyes shut as tears rolled down my face, and anguish filled my insides. My body curled in on itself. Despite my efforts to keep them back, the memories of that moment played on repeat in my head.
Being stripped naked.
Lips kissing on my back, shoulders, and neck.
Him forcing his way inside.
Agony tore through my chest, escaping as a cry. I buried my face in the leotard I clutched, sobbing into the material.
“Harper,” Perseus whispered my name in a voice that sounded just as broken as I felt. “Harper, I swear to you, he’ll pay. He’ll fucking pay. I’ve already found him. He can’t escape this time. He’s going to suffer, this I can guarantee you.”
“Don’t,” I pleaded, covering my head with quivering hands. I shook my head weakly. “Don’t talk about him. He doesn’t exist. It didn’t happen. None of it’s real.”
Perseus fell silent as I chanted that mantra to myself over and over again. Even as I told myself the lie, flashes of the night resurfaced. I screamed into the pillow and shook my head until they vanished. The pinpricks of anguish began to engulf me, but I squeezed the leotard tighter and shook my head more.
“No,” I groaned.
Perseus’s frown deepened.
“No,” I shouted louder this time. I shook my head and closed my eyes. “It’s a lie. It’s all a nightmare.”
None of it was real.
Drake didn’t exist.
What he did to me didn’t exist.
The pain didn’t exist.
I was fine.
“Harper—”
I sat up, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness. I grabbed at my head and braced myself on my other hand while Perseus reached toward me to keep me from falling sideways out of the bed. When the feeling subsided, I grabbed Perseus’s forearm and looked around his room. “What time is it?”
Clearly not understanding why I cared about the time, he furrowed his brow.
“What time is it?” I repeated.
Perseus reluctantly released me to pull his phone out of his pocket. “It’s a little past eight in the morning. Why—”
I leapt to my feet, forcing down that second wave of dizziness and nausea. “I’m late! I have to get to work.”
I stumbled into the bathroom, not caring that it wasn’t mine. Rehearsals started at 7:45, and I wasn’t even close to being ready. I had no clothes or essential items here, but that wouldn’t stop me. I found a hair tie in a drawer and pulled my hair back before turning on the sink to wash my face and teeth.
“Harper, baby,” Perseus called helplessly behind me. “You don’t have to go into work. You—”
“I’m fine,” I snapped.
Because none of it was real. Not a single thing.
I let the water clear my face of the tightness that had been there. I splashed more water across my skin, soaking in the feel of it. I grabbed a tube of toothpaste I found in a drawer and put a dollop on my finger to brush my teeth. The mint soothed my dry mouth, and I quickly rinsed it.
“Please,” Perseus croaked.
I couldn’t meet his gaze in the mirror, nor could I turn to face him. Every fiber of my being was focused on this rush to get ready and get to work. I had to hurry. I was already late. I couldn’t waste time over a silly nightmare.
I practically tuned Perseus out as I shed out of the unfamiliar sweatpants and shirt. Moving on a crazed autopilot, I pulled on the pink leotard that I’d clung to this whole time. It wrapped around my body like a familiar hug, and on top of that, I slipped the sweatpants back on.
“Can you drive me to work?” I asked as I rushed past Perseus, running my hands through my ponytail, only to pull it out of the band to redo it. “What am I saying? Of course you can. You have to go to work, too. We’re both so late.”
I glanced over my shoulder only enough to see Perseus hadn’t moved from the doorway of the bathroom, but I still didn’t look him in the face. Huffing, I grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the door.
“Come on. I have to get there, Perseus.”
“Harper.”
My name cracked in his voice, and the sound sent a jolt of agony right to my chest. I bit the inside of my cheek and quickly used that pain to stomp down the one that tried surfacing inside of me.
Drake didn’t exist.
What he did to me didn’t exist.
The pain didn’t exist.
I was fine.
“I’m fine,” I bit out through gritted teeth. I stared at the floor in front of me with Perseus’s wrist held tightly behind me and begged, “Please, Perseus. I need to work.”
Silence was my only answer for many heartbeats. Just when I thought he was going to remain rooted in place, shadows wrapped around me. When they cleared, I found myself in Perseus’s office at Silverlight.
Grinning, I squeezed his arm without looking back at him. “Thank you.”
I barreled out of the room and raced through the halls to the changing room. Thankfully, I had spare dance and pointe shoes in there, so I pulled on my dance shoes, quickly put my hair into a ballerina bun, and raced to the schedule board to see which practice room I was supposed to be in.
According to the board, the Dancing in the Dark cast were all meeting in practice room one today to begin group rehearsals. Up until this point, we’d been working on individual or small group sets, but today would be the start of those puzzle pieces coming together to slowly form the bigger picture of the ballet.
Focusing on how exciting a moment like this typically was, I sped through the hallways. When I quietly slipped into practice room one, I cringed in shame as all eyes in the mirror locked on me. Classical music played overhead as the ballerinas and danseurs warmed up with répétiteurs and dance masters stationed around the room, a few leading the class.
“Well, this is a first,” Delilah whispered to me as I found an empty spot at the back of the room to join in on warm-ups. “You’re late. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” I answered quickly. Realizing what she’d asked, I shook my head and corrected, “I mean, everything’s fine. I had car trouble and had to figure out another ride. It won’t happen again.”
Delilah frowned and seemed to study me for a moment before nodding and resuming her walk around the room with the other répétiteurs.
There were a few people who glanced my way as we went through warm-ups and barre class. I didn’t pay attention to any of them. The only thing I could focus on was the instructions being called out and the movements I was doing.
By the time barre was over, there was a certain numbness that had started to coat my insides. My mind had gone eerily quiet while working, and now, my body had gone rather numb, too.
“I never thought I’d see the day where Harper Ashwood was late,” Elijah teased as he and Katerina found me against the back wall. “Especially on such an exciting day as group rehearsal. You’re usually here an hour early!”
He and Katerina shared a knowing laugh, and with great effort, I managed to crack a smile with them.
Katerina knelt down with me to change our flat shoes to pointe shoes for the rehearsal. Smiling sweetly at me, she asked, “What happened? Why were you late?
“I’m fine,” I replied flatly and finished lacing my pointe shoes.
I stood up and leaned against the wall, facing the large mirror. I stared blankly at my reflection across the room as people finished getting ready for rehearsals. I vaguely recognized Katerina and Elijah standing with me, but I couldn’t seem to hear whatever they talked about now. I wasn’t sure if they’d tried talking to me again or not. I’d gone comatose, transfixed on my distant pale reflection.
The door to the practice room opened, and I managed to catch sight of Perseus and Rupert joining the répétiteurs at the head of the room. Perseus hadn’t bothered to change out of his t-shirt and sweatpants from earlier, and the sight caused whispers to break out among the dancers. The group of directors, dance masters, and répétiteurs shook hands and greeted each other before facing all of us. The minute Perseus began to turn this way, I dropped my eyes to the ground in front of me. I still couldn’t look him in the eye for some reason.
A twinge of darkness prodded at my head, and I quickly dug my fingernails into my palm behind my back to ward it off.
Drake doesn’t exist.
What he did to me doesn’t exist.
The pain doesn’t exist.
I’m fine.
Fine, fine, fine.
“Morning,” Perseus started. His usual upbeat and charming voice was deep and flat now. There was a certain angry undertone as he spoke, and the people around me shifted nervously, not used to that sort of tone from him. “Today marks the third week of practice, which means three more weeks before opening night for Dancing in the Dark .”
The many ballerinas and danseurs clapped timidly, like they worried too much excitement might set off their boss, who was strangely firm today. I kept my gaze fixated on the floor and waited to feel that same bubbling excitement that came from a moment like this. I waited to feel my smile stretch across my face or to feel determination set in. But instead, there was … nothing. I was empty. Hollow. Numb.
“I won’t take up anymore time talking,” Perseus said. “Let’s get practice underway.”
Those not dancing yet lined the back wall while those of us opening practice got in position in the room. We were beginning with practice for Act Three, because it was one of the pieces that would take the most work as it was the grand celebration among all of the Dark Wood beings, Psyche, and Malak.
Practice began with the corps de ballet entering and dancing. Perseus looked every bit like a man studying his dancers with his arms crossed and fingers braced under his mouth. But I knew him. Even while his green eyes appeared focused, there was a distance there, and I knew that, much like myself, he couldn’t be further from this room.
The répétiteurs called out reminders and corrections, and as the music neared the end of the opening set, I took a deep breath and accepted Elijah’s hand. Brittle ice zipped through my fingers and up my arm, nearly making me yank my hand back. I managed to keep it where it was. Elijah and I entered the center of the corps de ballet, ending the set with our joined hands held in the air. But there was no smile on my face. My eyes were too large, face too pale, and mouth deflated.
A fact that was pointed out quietly to me by Delilah, though she did so almost cautiously. I accepted the criticism with a robotic nod.
The corps de ballet took their corrections from the répétiteurs while Perseus remained a silent statue against the wall. Glances were cast his way in search of his reaction, but he gave none. The corps de ballet moved aside to give space for the start of the next set—mine and Elijah’s first of two pas de deux for the third act.
Every pair of eyes swung in my direction, but none seared into my very soul like those emerald ones. I couldn’t bring myself to catch them. I worried if I did, I’d crumble. Something dark and consuming was already trying to weave its way through my chest with the sharpness of briars. I had to ignore it. I had to focus on this dance and nothing else.
Drake doesn’t exist.
What he did to me doesn’t exist.
The pain doesn’t exist.
I’m fine.
As the music poured from the speakers, and Elijah and I began our slow and romantic start to the pas de deux, any hope I had of losing myself in the performance vanished.
The first sign that something was wrong was my face.
The scene we were meant to paint was one of merriment and passion, two lovers finally coming together and displaying their love for all the court to see. That couldn’t be further from what you saw when watching me. Instead of exuberance, there was emptiness. Instead of love in the way Elijah and I touched, there was stiffness. No matter how deep I dug inside of myself for that power, my fingers grasped at nothing. There was no emotion for me to pull at, no feeling to put into even the faintest of movements in my body.
Then came the second sign that something was wrong.
Every time Elijah and I made physical contact—which was nearly every step—the barbs piercing my insides cut deeper. The music, the technique of the dance, the emotion belonging to such a joyous and empowering scene couldn’t be farther from my mind. Only one word fired off inside me.
Stop .
A cold sweat broke out along my skin as I entered into the fourteen pirouette sequence with Elijah. His left hand braced on my hip as I went onto one leg, and the contact made a burst of panic bloom in my gut.
Stop .
I spun in his hold, yet the glee I should’ve worn on my face was twisted with rising discomfort. My reflection in the mirror whizzed by as I forced my body to keep going, to keep fighting the alarm bells growing louder inside of me.
Stop .
Elijah’s hands tightened on my waist as I finished the last pirouette by going into arabesque. Breath control, especially with a demanding set like what we practiced now, was vital, but the minute my leg raised, opening my center up, I couldn’t seem to find the ability to breathe any longer.
Stop .
Elijah braced my waist as I bent forward for my leg to raise in an arabesque penché. My stomach twisted with fresh nausea as his palms clutched me, and suddenly, I couldn’t see the floor past flashes of buried images.
“Stop,” I croaked, the miniscule plea deaf to all under the sound of the music.
Elijah straightened me, but it wasn’t him I saw in the reflection of the mirror. The tall danseur had grown shorter, his small frame hidden inside of dark clothes. It wasn’t Silverlight, full of coworkers and friends, around me. I now stood alone in my home ballet studio with a monster at my back. When I spun to brace a hand on my partner’s shoulder while clutching his hand in the other, it wasn’t rich eyes and flawless brown skin I saw. Giddy eyes framed in freckles and a slimy grin of crooked teeth set into a face I’d never forget met mine.
“Stop,” I whimpered with a small shake of my head. My lip began to tremble, and I fell off pointe.
The brows on the splotchy and oily face in front of mine furrowed in confusion. “Harper?”
“Stop,” I blurted louder.
How dare he look confused? How dare he pretend not to know what he did to me?
“Stop!” I shouted, pushing away from him.
He stepped back and held up his hands in surrender as the chills on my body heated into a fine layer of sweat. The room spun, and no air reached my lungs. I couldn’t stand there. I had to run. I had to get away from him.
I pushed past faceless shadows of people and burst through the door, leaving the ballet studio and the monster lurking within it. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know what was happening. Everything felt wrong. The visions flashing behind my eyelids as I stumbled through the hallway were wrong
Because Drake didn’t exist.
Because what he did to me didn’t exist.
Because the pain didn’t exist.
Because I was fine .
“Fine. Fine. I’m fine,” I gasped, unable to take in a full breath.
Faint music filtered into the hallway from a nearby practice room. When I heard the familiar Swan Lake piece, ice froze me solid. My limbs locked up, and I stood there, staring blindly ahead. The music for Odette’s arrival played muted yet crystal clear to me. The music spurred the fuzzy memories to play like a vivid movie in my head.
Crawling on weak arms across the cold floor.
Sweaty and sticky hands fumbling to grab my legs.
Hot breath in my ear as a foreign body entered mine.
The dizziness swarming my head amplified, and I fell sideways. Just as my shoulder nearly slammed into the wall, a tanned hand caught me there and pulled me back upright. The masculine ocean scent told me who had come, even before I blearily looked up at him.
“Perseus,” I quivered.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, steering me along.
I shook my head feebly and continued to insist, “I’m fine.”
The constriction in my chest only worsened as the sweat lining my body seemed to seep into my skin and gather as a messy knot of nausea in the pit of my stomach.
“Fine,” I croaked as the warm body at my side guided me down a series of halls and into an office. “I’m fine,” I continued just as the tremble in my lip spread to my entire body.
Perseus shut and locked the door before turning to face me.
“I’m fine. Perseus, I’m—”
“Baby, you aren’t fine,” Perseus gritted out as he cupped my cheeks and stepped into me.
The words hit me square in the chest, knocking the air I’d desperately been clinging to right out of me. I held his crestfallen gaze while holding my breath. In them, I saw helpless misery, and as the seconds ticked by, reality settled in. I could hide no longer.
So I crumbled.
Squeezing my eyes shut and gripping his shirt in my hands, I dropped my head and sobbed, “I’m not fine.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into them as tears poured down my cheeks and wet wails poured from my lips.
The lies I’d been feeding myself began to fizzle away like ash on the wind until I had to acknowledge what I’d been fighting.
Drake existed.
What he did to me existed.
The pain existed.
I wasn’t fine.