I lock the door behind me, and Nik slowly turns on the faucet.
I’m not the best with words. I’m not the best at much, but family is all we have. And I have to be enough for him. Like he has to be enough for me.
His nose runs, and he wipes it with the back of his hand before splashing water at his face.
I take a step closer and stuff my hands in my pockets. “Dimitri texted. Said he heard the girls laughing. Like good laughter.”
Nikolai tightens his eyes closed, his chest caving. And he clutches the sink’s edges again.
I’ve never seen Nik cry.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he never has.
He’s used to being everyone’s rock. He was next to Thora in the ambulance. At the hospital. By her bed. I saw a glimpse through the ER curtains, and he was holding her after the doctors explained the news. She cried into his shoulder, and even from my obscured view, he looked so torn up. Maybe Thora even saw him cry for the first time right then.
I can imagine him being vulnerable with her, easily.
Nikolai staggers slowly back from the sink and he drifts to the mirrored wall. His knees nearly give out, and he sits on the tiles, head hung. Arms draped on his bent legs.
I approach like a ghost and quietly sit next to him. And I say what I think he needs to hear. “It wasn’t your fault.”
His nose flares, and he shields his face with a shaking hand.
I wrap my arm around his broad shoulders. “There’s nothing more you could’ve done. Nothing to prevent it or save her from this. You did everything you could.” I feel him shudder, and I edge closer. He reaches out, his hand on my knee.
His grip is strong like he doesn’t want me to leave. And I watch my selfless, stoic brother pinch his eyes and fight gut-wrenching tears. His face reddens, scrunched up.
His pain balls in my throat, and I rub his back. “She’s going to be okay, Nik.”
And then he drops his hand, and tears slip out of the corners of his bloodshot eyes. Mine burn and cloud.
After a few minutes of unleashing his emotion, he finds the strength to lift his head up, and he leans more against the mirror. I stare at the locked door with him.
Outside of that door, my life is about to become undone, and I can’t tell him that I fucked up again. Irresponsible Luka Kotova. Letting down the people I love most. Repeating all of my mistakes, and still, I wouldn’t change anything but being caught.
(I’m so sorry, Nik. You deserved a better brother than the one you got.)
Act Thirty-Eight Luka Kotova
“Baylee?” I say.
She looks numb, staring off as we stand in a tiny vending area within the hospital. One of the only secluded places Geoffrey could find after he corralled us in the hallway.
I didn’t even have time to hug Bay before he said, “Don’t touch.”
I rake my fingers through my dark hair and then fit my baseball cap on backwards. I reach out to her, but she shakes her head once. “We can’t.”
Geoffrey will be back soon. He said to, “Wait here.”
I have no idea what he’s doing.
I rest my forearm against a Fizzle machine, and I’m turned towards her. “What can I do?” I want to fix this. I want to take her pain away. I’ll feel better knowing she’s alright. “Bay?”
“I don’t know.” She looks up, eyes welling.
My heart is being ripped to shreds.
She crosses her arms like she’s trying to hug herself.
I reach out. “Let me, please. He’s not back yet.”
Baylee takes a breath, looks over her shoulder, and then she walks into my arms. I hug her so tight, and I feel her exhale just as I do.
Softly, she whispers, “I don’t want this to be our last hug.”
I shake my head, weight piling on my chest. Eyes burning. “It’s not.”
She doesn’t believe me. I don’t even believe me. “This hurts,” she says. “God, this hurts.”
I pull back some, and Baylee has her hand on her chest like it’s her heart.
My hands slide up to her cheeks, and she feverishly traces all of my features. I try to engrain all of hers, just as urgently. Our eyes dancing.
And then we hear footsteps. The sound of metal scraping the floor. My hands fall, and we separate two feet which feels like ten thousand leagues.
Baylee presses the buttons to a snack machine, sadness blanketing her brown eyes. I feel like I’ve been kicked repeatedly. My whole body aches, and I keep rubbing my face, wishing I’d stop wincing soon.
When Geoffrey returns with two chairs, Bay actually sighs in relief at something to sit on and sink into.
“Sit,” he orders.
She’s already sitting, one leg tucked beneath her ass.
I take a seat and lean back some, my hands on my knees. “What is this about?” I speak first, knowing Baylee is quieter in these situations.
Geoffrey crosses his arms, his goatee a little fuzzier than yesterday, and his ash-blond hair is askew like he’s been anxiously grabbing at it. I’m surprised he’s not pacing in front of us, but he is trying to tower. Which is probably why he only brought two chairs.
It’s working more than I want to admit.
“You know what it’s about,” Geoffrey snaps. “When I first signed onto Infini, I thought I’d be the reason this show succeeds for a decade longer. I thought I’d be the hero.” He laughs like it was foolish. “Then I have a private meeting with Marc Duval. He tells me that through the transfer of a colleague, he needs someone new to be his eyes and ears towards two artists. I hesitate.” Geoffrey holds up his hands. “It sounds like babysitting to me. I’m here to reinvigorate a dying show, that’s all. Marc tells me that if I don’t do this, I lose out on the Infini job and the biggest sum of money in my career.”
I ball my baseball cap in my hands, listening and now knowing our far-fetched thought about Geoffrey is real. That he was told by Corporate to spy on us.
The no minors policy is coming.
Baylee stares so far off, wide-eyed; I worry. And I turn more towards her than to Geoffrey.
Our choreographer continues, “So I agree to make sure Luka and Baylee don’t even sneeze on each other outside the gym unless it’s about work. But let’s be honest here, you’re both far from professional at this point. Vince thought he spotted you on the strip during a lunch break. Did you know that?” He steps closer.
It forces me to crane my neck to look at him.
“Did you know that I also talked him out of entering the Urban Outfitters he was sure you were hiding in?”
Baylee snaps out of her stupor, and my brows furrow in confusion. We’re both shaking our heads. Why would he help us?
“I also cancelled lunches. I thought you two would take the hint. Surely you both know what’s at stake if I or Vince relay news about your sex buddy to Marc.”
My jaw muscle tics, but I’m not back-talking right now. Not to prove a point that he couldn’t give two shits about.
“Why didn’t you tell on us?” Baylee asks with a shrug, face pained. “Why even pair me with Luka on the trampoline?”
“I’m here for one purpose.” Geoffrey points at the ground. “For Infini. Not to babysit two stupid kids.”
(Fuck you.)
Geoffrey looks to me. Like he’s waiting for me to attack. Show some raw emotion.
When I give him none, he sneers at me, “Unbelievable.” He crosses his arms again and scrutinizes Baylee. “I actually think you two have promise together on stage. You have real chemistry, and I took advantage of that for the betterment of the show. You know what I’m not willing to lose? My underage girl who will be kicked off Infini the second I go tattle to Marc. I need Milla. The show needs Milla, and the no minors policy is threatening the creative value and potential of Infini.”
He’s going to help us?
It’s what I’m hearing.
He’s not planning on running to Marc Duval.
I straighten up. “What do you want then?”
“I want a guarantee that you two won’t ever be caught by Vince or Marc himself.”