Fast Burn: Burned Duet: Book One Page 5

  So, as I reversed off her driveway, I felt a sadness come over me. Seeing Belle was the only time I truly felt something other than the monotonous daily drag, apart from when I’d been at the club with Jax, Al, and the MC members. Lotus had me feeling something I hadn’t in a long time…

  As soon as that thought entered my head, I flung it away, not even willing to entertain it.

  Chapter Four

  ELODIE

  I stretched my arms over my head, extending my fingers as much as I could, and then I slowly moved to the left, letting my body flow naturally to the music. The rhythm and dance beats were drummed into me so much, I didn’t need to count or really listen—I just felt. Felt the emotion behind each movement and felt the raw passion of the story I was telling while the entire time encompassing the loneliness from the lyrics in the song.

  Dancing didn’t come as easy to me as some people. I had to work hard at it, but most of all, I had to repeat each move over and over and over again. Repetition was key to getting the technique just right, but it was the emotion I let burst out of me that couldn’t be taught. So, as I dropped back to the floor and then curled my body up and back out, I let myself bleed to the music. I laid myself bare, not leaving one tiny piece of me inside.

  Consciously, I knew my dance teacher, Aleste, was watching me, but it was as if she wasn’t even in the room with me. Dance competitions were coming up, and although I was desperate to compete in as many as I could, I couldn’t swing it. Each competition cost money and time away from my job, things I couldn’t do every few weeks during the competition season, so I’d settled for two, one of which was next weekend.

  The crescendo of the beat got louder, and I flew into the air, doing the splits and bowing my back while pointing my toes, ready to feel the floor on the sole of my foot. As soon as the cold wood connected with my foot, I stretched my arms up and slowly brought them down into my finishing pose as the last beats of the music drifted softly through the studio.

  “Yes!” Aleste shouted, clapping so loud it echoed in the room, which had three walls of mirrors. “You were so close to nailing it.”

  I pulled in several deep breaths and concentrated on locking away every bit of emotion I’d exposed. I didn’t care about doing it on stage because everyone thought I was telling a fictional story, but more times than not, I was showing them me—the real me. The me riddled with emotions I kept under control any other time.

  “You need to make sure you’re extending your leg and arm in this section,” Aleste continued, and I watched her as she showed me the two eight counts toward the middle of the routine. “Apart from that, it was damn near perfection.”

  I kept my lips in a straight line because unless it was perfect, there was no point in praising me. I only had two chances to show people what I could do, and once they were over, I had no idea where I could go from there if I wasn’t offered something. I wasn’t the kind of person who had a definite plan and knew each step for me to get there. All I knew was that I wanted to dance, and I wanted to be able to do what I loved, and however I could do that was okay with me. A scholarship, a dance contract—anything.

  “I’m gonna go again,” I told Aleste, moving to the center of the studio.

  “No,” Aleste said, her tone firm. “You’ve done it four times today.”

  I didn’t even think about it as I replied, “I can go another time.”

  Aleste shook her head. “You have to know when to stop, Elodie,” she admonished. “That’s the battle you face. Because if you don’t know when to stop, your risk of injury increases, which means time away from dancing.” She took four steps to me and halted a couple of feet away. “That’s enough for today. Let your muscles rest for a while.”

  “I—”

  “No arguments.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Go and get something to eat, and then do something a normal teenager would.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her I wasn’t a normal teenager. I may have been eighteen, but I was fighting to survive each day like I was in my mid-twenties, afraid my youth was getting away from me.

  I was working extra hours because one of the girls from work had quit suddenly, which meant I was picking up her shift in a couple of hours—a shift I usually wouldn’t take because it was a weekday and my private-dance-lesson day. But the extra money would come in handy, especially after paying Tony the rent my mom owed him, so if that meant doing more work and cramming in study time when I could, I’d do it. I was thinking long term, and my goal was to have enough money at the end of the school year so I’d have options.

  “Fine,” I finally huffed out. “But can I use the studio on Friday straight after school and before your lessons?”

  Aleste smiled gently. “You know you can. You don’t have to ask.” She stepped away and let her hands slide off my shoulders. “That reminds me…” She moved her lips side to side as if she were contemplating what she was about to say. The wrinkles around her eyes told a story of her laughing and smiling, and not of age.

  She’d been teaching me for ten years after opening this studio, something she’d done after her own injury she’d had when on tour with a dance company. She was only twenty-four when it had happened, and she was constantly telling me how short this career could be, which was why I needed my backup plan and to graduate high school. At least then I would have something to fall back on—I hoped.

  “How do you feel about starting to teach a couple of the younger kids’ classes?”

  My eyes widened, and my stomach fluttered at the thought. “Seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  “When?” I asked, automatically thinking of my jam-packed schedule.

  “Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon? Is that doable?”

  I stared up at the ceiling and mentally went through my times. It would mean I wouldn’t get much sleep on Friday night after work, but I could always have a nap in the afternoon, and Sunday afternoon I normally did my homework, but I could make it fit. I was determined to make it fit.

  “I can do that.” I wanted to jump up and fist-bump the air, but I settled for a smile instead. My emotions needed to stay locked away in my daily life, because when you were too exposed, people took advantage, and I wouldn’t be taken advantage of, not again.

  “You can show your excitement, you know,” Aleste said, her lips spreading into a grin. “You don’t need to keep it just for when you’re dancing.”

  “I know,” I rushed out. “I…thank you.” I wrapped my arms around her. “Thank you.”

  She patted my back gently and whispered, “Sometimes you just need one break to set your path straight.” She pulled away, stared at me for a beat, and then turned to leave the studio. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but the words lodged in my head, refusing to be let go.

  I blinked and stared at myself in the mirror. The black leotard I was wearing was coming apart at the seams, and I knew I’d have to invest in a new one before my competition, and a new skirt. The organza material needed to flow with each of my moves to add a lyrical flow to the dance number. So with that in mind, and knowing I had an extra shift tonight, which would cover the cost of them, I pulled my hoodie over my head, pushed my feet into my tennis shoes, and grabbed my bag.

  All I would have time for was a quick bite to eat at the local drive-through, and then I’d need to head right to work. My body was running on empty, but the high from what Aleste had asked me kept me going as I exited the studio and walked to my car.

  I’d parked down the road because I hadn’t been able to find a spot right outside the studio, and it wasn’t until I was a couple of feet away from my car that I noticed the place I was in front of.

  The windows were tinted, a decal on them, but above that was a sign “East Ink.” Was this a tattoo shop? How long had it been here? My eyes widened, and although I’d never really thought about it, the idea of having some ink on my body was appealing at the moment. Nothing too big, but definitely nothing small.
Somewhere I could hide while I was dancing.

  I wasn’t sure how long I stood there staring at the shop with my keys in my hand, but the door swung open, and a woman walked out. She didn’t notice me at first as she leaned against the window and lit a cigarette, but as she blew the smoke out, her head turned.

  “Hey,” she greeted, smiling and causing the two piercings in her cheeks to sink farther into her skin. Her arms were covered in an array of tattoos, and her orange and pink hair added to her edgy look. But her face was smooth with barely any makeup on, and I could tell she was pretty. Pretty in the girl-next-door kind of way. I was intrigued.

  I wanted to ask her about her ink and find out if her name matched her look and vibe, but all I managed to get out was a squeaky, “Hi.” I winced at how high-pitched my voice sounded, but it didn’t seem to faze her as she looked me up and down. Her brows moved higher on her forehead as she looked at my dance skirt, bare legs, and then beat-up tennis shoes.

  “You dance?” she asked, straight to the point.

  “Yeah.” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and hitched my thumb behind me, signaling the studio. “In Aleste’s studio.”

  She took another drag of her cigarette, nodding slowly. “Aleste seems cool, in that pretty, do-gooder kind of way.” I knew what she meant because it was exactly who Aleste was. She had good parents who were still married, and she’d never known a life of no support. But it didn’t mean I envied her for it. We were all dealt a hand, and it was up to us how we played it.

  “She is.” I paused. “Cool and a do-gooder.” I shrugged, not stopping myself as I continued, “She tries to relate to the kids around here, but you don’t know what it’s like until you’ve gone through it, you know?” I was saying too much, but for some reason, I found myself wanting to talk to this stranger.

  “I get that,” she said, staring at me as if she knew so much more. Her dark eyes didn’t look away from my face as she continued to smoke, and although I knew I was wasting precious time I had to eat before starting work, I found myself glued to the spot.

  “I think I like you.” She let the butt of her cigarette go and stomped on it with her platform boots. “Come in and see me next time you’re around.”

  She left the words hanging in the air as she pushed back into the shop, leaving me alone and on the sidewalk, wondering if I really would come and see her next time I was at my dance lesson. There was something about her that had me feeling at ease, and I’d never felt that before. Maybe it was because she seemed laid-back, or maybe it was all in my head and I was so tired I was imagining things that weren’t really there.

  Huffing out a breath, I opened up my car and took one last look at the sign above the shop, knowing at some stage, I’d go in there, whether it was to talk to the woman or get ink permanently put into my skin.

  The idea had a smile forming on my face.

  * * *

  ASHER

  It wasn’t often I tattooed anywhere other than my shop, but when Al had called and asked if I could come and do it in the club before it opened, I hadn’t hesitated. The shop was getting busier and busier, and with three tattoo machines going, I knew it wasn’t the best place for Al to be right then.

  I had plans to create a private room out of one of the offices in the back and even considered converting the upstairs apartment into private rooms and expanding into other areas too. But for now, they were just that—ideas. I needed to get the cash to front it because being in debt didn’t appeal to me one bit. I’d saved since before I could remember, and it was a way of life now, which was why, when I’d bought my house twelve months after I left the Marines, I had a large down payment saved up.

  “Fuck, that bit hurts,” Al groaned, and I felt him tense under my hand. I’d been tattooing for three hours straight on his back piece: a compilation of the club emblem and an extra few sketches added in to signal the tour he’d just come off. He’d been home a couple of weeks now, and although to everyone else he was putting a front on, I knew better. I could see the pain and bad memories shining in his eyes.

  “Let’s take a break,” I grunted, pulling my machine away from his back and placing it on the table covered in Saran Wrap. I’d have to replace the needle if we had a break, but I knew I needed to stretch my back out and take a break too.

  “We can keep going,” Al said, turning his head to face me.

  “Nah.” I disassembled my machine. “I need a break too. We have another hour to go yet, anyway.” I reached over and put some balm over what I’d already tattooed, wrapped him up, then pulled my gloves off. I stood and stretched my arms above my head, feeling my back crack from the force and nearly groaned at the sensation.

  Al jumped down from the bed. “I’m gonna head outside for a smoke.” He reached into his pocket for his cigarettes, his moves jittery. “You coming?”

  “I’ll come get some fresh air,” I said, instead of telling him I didn’t smoke. I’d tried them once when I’d been in high school and coughed my guts up. Besides, I was all about needing my lungs to work as effectively as they could because MMA training was something I needed to do to feel like me. Even though I hadn’t fought in years, going a week without training still felt wrong, like I was missing a piece of myself. “I’ll meet you out there,” I told Al as we headed toward the main club doors and toward the restrooms. I tilted my head toward them, and he nodded in understanding.

  I did my business, then used the sink to stretch my back, feeling knots start to form. I’d always had trouble with my back from my fighting days, but after being thrown fifty feet when an IED went off when we were on patrol, it had been so much worse. I’d been one of the lucky ones, though. We’d lost four members of our unit that day. Four people whose families would never be the same again.

  Staring in the mirror, I felt a black cloud start to descend over me. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, all I wanted to do was hide. After all the years I’d been home, it affected me as much as it did back then. If I closed my eyes, I could still hear gunshots ringing out as if I was back there. I could still feel the heat surrounding me, and the sweat beading on my forehead. The shouts coming from all directions ricocheted around my head, and I slammed my hands over my ears to try and drown them out. But my eyes…

  My eyes didn’t move off my reflection.

  I knew I wasn’t there, I knew that, but my mind wasn’t part of me at that moment. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there with my palms covering my ears and my breath coming in pants, but eventually, I shook my head and cleared the fog. I chanted over and over again, telling myself it wasn’t real. Turning the tap, I then gathered water in my palms and splashed my face, needing to make sure I was fully in the here and now. Maybe I did need the fresh air after all? I switched the tap off and forewent drying my hands, not wanting to hear the noise of the air dryer. I was on edge, and I wasn’t sure if it was because the pain was reminding me of what happened over there, or because I could sense it in Al so heavily.

  The silence was deafening as I walked back into the club and took a right turn to the front doors. I pushed them open and winced as the sunlight hit me full force. We were still on the cusp of summer, so the sun was firmly with us even though it was already past seven. The club didn’t open until nine, so we had plenty of time to finish up.

  “Hey,” I greeted Al and leaned against the wall next to him. His attention was focused on a car in the lot, one of only two, and the other one was mine. Al’s bike sat a few feet from the entrance, the sun glinting off the shiny metal. “What you looking at?”

  He pointed toward the car, the smoke from his cigarette flowing over the top of his hand. “I can’t figure out whose car that is.” He frowned and tilted his head to the side. “Why are they sitting here when we don’t open for another couple hours?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me.” I adjusted my stance and crossed my arms over my chest, causing my muscles to flex and the tattoos on my skin to dance. “Go see who it is if you’re that bothered.” />
  Al took another draw from his smoke and darted over to the car as quick as lightning. I could only see the back of the car from here, so when he rapped his knuckles on the drivers’ window and a scream rang out, I rushed forward, instantly regretting telling Al to go and check it out. The incident in the bathroom had obviously blurred my brain because that was not a smart thing to say to him right then.

  “L?” Al frowned as the car door flung open. “What the hell you doing here?”

  “I’m eating,” a soft but firm voice whipped back at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing sneaking up on a girl who’s shoving a burger down her throat?”

  I halted at the back of her car out of eyesight and felt my lips lifting at the way she was talking to him. Not many people spoke to a member of the club like that, but she sounded like she didn’t give a fuck.

  “How the fuck am I supposed to know you’re eating a burger and not a serial killer looking to chop my head off?” Al responded, his tone serious.

  “Ew.” I saw a hand wave in front of Al, wafting the smoke away. “Put that thing out.” A burger made an appearance in the air. “I’m eating, Al-droid.”

  Al’s brows shot high on his forehead. “You did not just call me that.”

  “And what if I did? Huh?” Al leaned closer, his features morphing into an expression I couldn’t read, and a second later, he took a draw of his smoke and blew it out in her face.

  “You fucking fuck!” Al stumbled back, and I stepped into view as she bounced out of her car, slapping his chest. “You’re a dick. That was my only meal tod—” She cut herself off and stepped back, and I was amazed at how quickly she schooled her features. She spun around and nearly stumbled as she spotted me. My instincts kicked in, my arm reaching out to grab her.