Page 17 of When Hearts Awaken

Blond hair. Light eyes. Were they green? Blue? Gray? A masculine jawline.

I’m not here. I’m far, far away.

“Look at her thrashing. She’s going to come, isn’t she?”

Peppermint. It smelled like peppermint. Like Christmas.

Wake up!My wrist throbs and someone is shaking me hard. I open my mouth to scream and this time my voice works.

“No! Get away!”

Bright lights sear into my eyes as the pain in my wrist wrenches me away from that dark place. My heart rams itself against my rib cage, threatening to give up on me.

My vision swirls—I’m in the eye of the tornado—and I finally see the large masculine hand gripping my wrist and I go ballistic.

“Let go of me, asshole!” My body finally regaining function, I swing my free arm at my assailant, a punch landing in a hard smack. Gasps and screams of horror and shock ring out in the room.

My assailant lets go of me and I heave in a sigh of relief. Then, another face pops into my vision—blond middle-aged man with light eyes. Peppermint. Sir Ian.

My eyes widen in horror. “T-The smell…it’s the same smell,” I whisper.

Panic slams through me, and I scream before shoving him hard. He staggers back a few steps before a few dancers catch him. “It’s been six years! I’m over this. The past is in the past!” Nonsensical words flow out of me, my mind still half-suspended in a flashback so real, so terrifying, I can’t reorient myself.

A sudden whiff of lavender reaches my nose. “Tay, Tay! Snap out of it, oh my God. Tay, calm down!”

Lisa.

Expelling deep breaths, I close my eyes and listen to the roaring sounds of my heartbeat. Lisa wraps me tightly in her arms and my legs nearly give out from underneath me. After a few seconds, which seems like minutes, I open my eyes.

Slowly, the room comes back into focus—businessmen and dancers, Madame Renoir, her hand covering her mouth in horror, a wall of mirrors, wooden floors, daylight.

I’m in the dance studio.

Acid churns in my stomach as my heart rate slows.What have I done?

Sir Ian stares at me with concern and I flinch as I take in his appearance again. My mind screams for me to leave, that the man in front of me is dangerous. He steps forward and I hold up my hand. “S-Stop. Stay away from me!”

“What thefuckis wrong with you?” a deep voice growls from my right.

I slowly turn toward him, my heart quaking in my chest. I take in the expensive, shiny dress shoes, expertly tailored pants and suit, a muscle twitching on a masculine jaw—a jaw and lips that are currently red from where I punched him earlier.

Murderous sky-blue eyes. Blond hair like a crown on a king.Oh shit.

I smacked him. Charles. The sponsor of the ballet company. The man keeping the lights on in this place. The man I need to depend on for my livelihood.

What have I done?

Chapter 7

Acid churns in mystomach, each wave higher than the last. I’m seasick on dry land as the god of thunder hurls lightning bolts at me with his stormy eyes.

“Taylor! Apologize to Sir Ian and Mr. Vaughnat once! What has gotten into you? This is unacceptable and we at ABTC do not condone this behavior! I’m afraid I’ll—”

The tsunami of her words crashes over me, the tiny voice inside my mind finally piercing through the craze.No. No. Please don’t fire me. Oh God, I haven’t had a flashback that intense for years. Why now? Why the fuck now?

My pulse bangs against my ears, panic making my vision blurry, and I feel sick to my stomach again. I need to fix this. I need ballet—the only thing I have left.

I need to apologize.

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