The Scars That Define Us (The Devil's Dust #2)

Dani

The sun is out and burning bright as we ride into town. Bobby woke me up after sleeping until noon, telling me he had a job lined up for me somewhere. I’m nervous; who knows what kind of job Bobby found. I can’t help but notice the unease I feel riding on the back of his bike. I hate feeling like I’m breaking a club law when I don’t even belong to Shadow anymore. The motorcycle roars forward, snapping me from my thoughts as we turn into a parking lot full of businesses. I climb off the bike and hand Bobby my helmet.

“There it is,” Bobby says, pointing through the lot. I look in that direction and notice a two-story building. It has a large, glass front and the foundation is made of clay-colored bricks. I look at the sign and almost lose my lunch.

‘Of The Ballet’

It’s a ballet studio.

“Shadow mentioned something about you liking ballet, so some strings were pulled to get you the job,” he says, putting his helmet on the bike.

“Who pulled some strings?” I ask as I stare at the building in awe.

“Come on, you’re going to be late,” he states, tugging on my arm and ignoring my question.

I walk in the door and a bunch of little girls in leotards, smiling and giggling, run out with their parents. I notice mirrors plastering the walls, with ballet barres along them. The ceiling is high with windows along the top, filtering in a generous amount of sunlight. On the right of us sits a curved desk with a pair of ballet slippers hanging in a display case on the wall amongst medals and awards.

“Ah, you must be Dani?” a voice from behind a desk asks.

“Yes,” I say, smiling, standing on my tiptoes to see over the desk.

A woman stands from behind the desk and walks toward me. She is tall and thin with a pale complexion. Her blonde hair is pulled into a tight bun, and she has honey-colored eyes.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Mila.” She darts her thin hand out to shake.

“Hi,” I say, shaking her hand back.

“You’re here about a job, right?” she asks.

“Yes,” I respond with a kind smile. She leans to the side and eyes Bobby standing behind me before looking back at me.

“Do you have any experience?” she asks.

“I have practiced ballet since I was a little girl,” I inform.

“Right. Show me,” she says, crossing her arms, no humor to be found in her tone.

I look over my shoulder and see Bobby standing there watching me, so I look back at Mila and take a deep breath.

I stand in the fifth position, the sides of my feet touching, and my toes pointing to the opposite foot’s heel. Balancing on my left leg, I slowly lift my right foot off the floor at a forty-degree angle. I turn out my right hip and straighten my right kneecap. Then, I lift myself to stand on my toes, my left foot into an en pointe—as much as I can without the proper shoes—while I point my toes on my right foot. I lift one arm up while bowing the other out from my body. I smile because even after not practicing for as long as I have, my body immediately remembers. I let my frame ease as my foot screams from my en pointe, and my calves burn from not being used in a while.

“Arabesque, very nice,” she says smiling. “We have different ballet slippers in the back you can use, along with a leotard until you can buy your own,” she says, pointing toward a door to the side of us. “I’m going to start you off with the younger girls, three times a week. When we need filling in, you work with the older girls. You start tomorrow,” she explains, handing me papers to fill out.

“Thank you so much!” I enthuse, shaking her hand just a little too eagerly. I cannot believe I just landed my dream job, finally getting to do what I love. I never thought I would wear another pair of ballet slippers again.

“You’re welcome. Get those papers filled out before you return, Dani.” She turns and walks back behind her desk just as the phone starts to ring.

“Yes!” I yell out and slap Bobby’s arm. “I got the job. I cannot believe it.” I say, letting out a breath as we leave the studio.

“Sounds like we need to celebrate, Firefly,” Bobby says, smiling wolfishly.

“Hell yes!” I say, laughing.





SHADOW