Chapter 12 Hiding
Amelia looks surprised when she opens the door for me and Ben, but she quickly hides her expression when she sees the sheer panic in my eyes.
"I was waiting for you." She steps aside to let us enter. "Alonso is in the gym, you know how that goes."
My cousin, Alonso, is the number one-ranked quarterback in the country, and the guy never rests. He constantly reminds me that it's easy to get to the top, but it's hard to stay up there.
And that's why I need Amelia, even though I didn't plan to bombard her on a Sunday.
"I wanted to see you about my ankle as soon as possible."
Her knowing blue eyes flicker to Ben. "Make yourself at home. Dude, you know where everything is."
"Can I drink one of Alonso's smoothies?" Ben jokes while making his way to the kitchen."
"That's the only thing off limits." Amelia chuckles, and I follow her to her home office.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know what to do." Tears threaten to spill over when it feels like my body is shaking with anxiety as soon as Amelia shuts the door behind us.
She doesn't ask any questions. She just takes me into her arms and rubs soothing circles on my back. "What's going on? Is it your ankle? Is it worse than I thought?"
I shake my head and take a step back from her to wipe my eyes. "I took some painkillers this morning."
I don't mention that my ankle is not the only thing needing painkillers. Every time I move, I feel Black deep inside me.
"You needed a decoy." It's not a question. She knows I'm not really here for medical advice.
"I needed a decoy."
Decoys are famous in my family. We stick together no matter what, no matter where. If you need to get out of a situation, you go to a family member, and that one is supposed to help you no matter what the situation might be.
"Is everything okay? Do I need to call Alessandro for you?"
Alessandro is my aunt's husband and also the unofficial head of our family. He made this family wealthy, and he is also my godfather. He always says I might as well be his daughter and that I can come to him with anything.
I should've gone to him that very first night someone got killed, for my own protection. Instead, I chose to protect a faceless guy who knows how to break into high-security apartments. Even now, I have no desire to run to my uncle.
Why?
Because he will surely find out who Black is to protect me.
And he would kill him.
I don't want Black dead, and I don't want anyone to find out what I did last night. Especially not Ben.
"No!" My voice comes out strong despite the tears running down my face. "I did something terrible, and I don't know what to tell Ben, okay?"
I don't have to tell her what I did, because she just nods. "I'll get him to leave."
I nod gratefully, and my eyes follow her as she leaves the office, and I slump in one of the desk chairs. I know I can't run away forever. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to tell Ben that I slept with someone else. And then he will probably leave me. I don't know if that is what I want.
My whole life has been mapped out. I will become a prima ballerina and dance on all the world's stages. Then I retire maybe at thirty-five and become a choreographer or maybe an elite teacher who makes sure her students follow in her footsteps.
But right now, I probably have a busted ankle, and all those plans are down the drain.
What else can I do? Marry Ben and have his perfect children, and support him so that he can become the best lawyer in the city? I wouldn't need anything. I would be living a life of luxury, attending all the best parties. I would even have nannies to do the job that most mothers do.
The thought alone leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
If I'm not dancing in one form or the other, I don't want it.
I don't want to be a wife draped in designer clothes and jewellery waiting around for a man.
And that's why unbeknownst to Ben, I am on birth control. We always use a condom when we have sex to prevent pregnancy, but I've been on the pill since I was sixteen.
Yet, I let another man fuck me without one.
What does that say about my relationship with Ben? Why am I with him when the very idea of a future with him terrifies me?
My phone pings in my bag, and I'm sure it's Ben who wants to know what the hell is going on and whatever Amelia told him to get him to leave.
Instead, it's from an unknown number, and my hand shakes as I tap on the unread message.
"Is your pussy still dripping from my cum?"