Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Then he disappears, and I sink farther into the warm water, watching as it caves over my skin.
I don’t know if I’m reading too far into things, or if I’m right in the way I feel about Kingston. I don’t know if it’s from my past terrors that are threatening to rise to the surface. You see, when I was a little girl, a shadow chased me. An entity. Instead of stepping out from behind it to feel the sun against my skin, this shadow ruined every expectation I had of seeing the light.
After a long day shopping with Rose on the “advance” Delila gave us and exploring the mall that’s nearest to her mansion, we’ve found ourselves in the tent, stretching out our bodies and warming up. I’ve noticed we’ve had a guard beside us today, guiding us where we are to be without telling us where we need to be. Every now and then, he’ll speak into a little headpiece and then direct us to where we are going next. It works for me because, otherwise, we would both be wandering around aimlessly, but hopefully, it’s not going to be a forever thing.
After Delila said that I wouldn’t have to perform yet and that I’d sit out for a bit, I thought that meant training, too. Judging by the grey sports bra and grey sweats that I’m now wearing, I was clearly wrong.
“You good?” Rose asks, lathering her body with scented coconut oil, one eyebrow quirked.
I lick my lips and brush my long red hair into a high ponytail. “Yes.”
The door slams open behind us, and I turn quickly to see who’s entering. Three girls waltz in, and I don’t even get a chance to inspect any of the others because the blonde ringleader snatches my attention first. Her long, wavy blonde hair hangs to her tiny waist, and her tattoos float up the side of her ribs, up her left breast, and come down her left arm. She has tight, tanned skin and a bitch face that makes you want to either punch it or sit on it.
She stares me up and down. “Ew.”
Punch it.
My eyebrows immediately shoot up, surprised by her obvious hostility. Just as I open my mouth, Rose steps in front of me, her arms pushing me back. “We got a problem, princess?”
I tap Rose’s arm to move her. I can fight my own battles. I don’t need her to do that for me, but blonde one and her minions slide past us and make their way behind the makeshift curtain. From my understanding, Delila has something set up in the back of her mansion. A tent dipped in black with the softest lilac trimmings. No signage on this one. I got the feeling that this was purely for practice or training.
“Hey.” Rose’s hand comes to my chin, tilting my face up to hers. I like Rose’s eyes. They’re gentle, soft. Just like her soul. She has a small heart-shaped face and a petite body to match. Over the past twenty-four hours, I’ve been asking myself how I would have lasted these past couple days if it weren’t for her. “You okay?” Resilience is absolute when you’ve had your life ripped away from you at such a young age, but finding a person who takes some of the tension that the world has given you and slaps on some armor, ready to square up against your enemies, is an irreplaceable friend.
“Yes.” I nod, smiling. “I’m fine.”
“I will beat that bitch straight in the mouth if she becomes an issue, and I don’t give a shit who she is…”
I stretch my neck, letting Rose’s ranting drift into white noise, as I try to focus on the task at hand: getting through tonight alive. And not messing up my steps.
I roll out my shoulders, inhaling and exhaling through each stretch. “What do you think they’ll have us dance?”
Rose shrugs, brushing the wand of her lip gloss over her lips. “Not sure. Anything they give us, I’m sure we can do.”
As if on cue, Delila shoves through the curtain, clapping her hands. Below rock bottom is a place called hell, and I’m pretty sure Delila was the interior decorator. “Come on. Both of you on stage. I want to see a duology first. Freestyle with each other.” She mumbles under her breath, “Let me see what the fuss is about.”
Butterflies quiver in my belly. I’m not really a freestyle dancer. I’m more of a choreograph type of girl, but I find my legs moving and following Rose to the other side of the curtain.
It’s bright. As in, pure daylight. I was expecting a gloomy shade, so I at least didn’t have to see who was sitting out in the crowd. My eyes catch what props I can see from here.