Page 58 of Paper Thin Love

Chapter 24

Dash

This must be what a gladiator felt like when he entered the training pit. I steel my spine, adding more pressure onto my good leg. This way, it looks like I don’t rely on my crutch to walk fully. Surviving here is all about creating an impression. Even though I’m broken, I’m still someone you would think twice about fighting.

The bottom of my crutch squeaks against the polished wood floor of the enormous gym at Silverstone; just like Mila told me, this school excels in catering to its students. It’s nothing like a typical gym. Sure, there’s the center court with four basketball courts, two of which are in use, and the second story features an indoor track overlooking the courts. But it’s the perimeter that’s different, with dozens of private rooms, almost all occupied. Mostly, they’re filled with guys participating in The Cleansing. I pass by several Jiu-Jitsu instructors, their sharp commands echoing as they teach groups of guys how to fight, each move calculated and powerful.

I also pass Mila’s room. It’s the bigger private room in the area, filled with at least a dozen dancers. Polished wood floors encased in a wall of mirrors provide a 360-degree view of my little dancer. The problem is that her room is across from Dante and Cillian’s training room. Only the balcony separates us. One short jog around the track, and I can touch her.

I want to touch her. Badly.

I keep telling myself she’s a game, a toy. She is.

She is!

I can use my toys; I can also protect them.

My next step has me leaning onto my crutch more than I’d like to admit. There she is, sitting on the floor like the perfect prey, so unsuspecting of the predator lurking right outside. She’s sitting down, her legs bare and extended as she gracefully wraps ribbons around her ankles.

Fuck me.

Why is that such a turn-on? Does she like to be tied up?

I readjust myself as I continue to watch her. The way her fingers move, even from this distance, it’s mesmerizing. It makes me want to feel the smoothness of those silk ribbons against her flesh, to trace the path her fingers have taken.

She smiles and tips her head back to laugh, her eyes lighting up as the other girl lacing up her pointe shoes leans closer to whisper something. You’d never know that Mila was so broken, especially when she was dancing. In those moments, she is whole, radiant, and utterly captivating.

It’s all a lie, though. She’s so good at faking contentment that you’d think it was her natural state when, deep inside, she is a fire—one I’m playing with, coaxing and making it grow.

I shouldn’t have drawn her in class, but at that very moment, I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to take a piece of her, so I drew her.

I find my arm swinging my crutch forward so I can get a closer look, but then my phone rings. It’s not easy grabbing my phone while holding my crutch. The word“Dad” flashes on the screen. My grip tightens. I want to ignore the call, but I also want to know where Titan and Damian are.

Naturally, I tried to call my cousins to tell them about Dante and Cillian. The problem is neither of them answered. That’s not unusual for Damian; his dad sometimes keeps him away from Titan and me as a punishment. Titan always answers, though.

“Dad,” I greet him in a mocking tone as I press the phone to my ear, lean against the railing, and cast my eyes on the basketball courts below.

“You’ve met your friends,” he says nonchalantly. No“hello, son” or“how’s the leg.” Not that I expected it, but I’m man enough to admit that the boy still hiding inside my mind would have loved it. That small boy is always disappointed by his father now.

I look up, expecting to spot him like an owl perched somewhere watching me.“I don’t have friends.” I hiss through my teeth. Dad’s got spies here; no shocker, since he has spies everywhere.

“You’re right. Trust them to help you, but trust no one with your life, son.”

“Not even you. After all, what kind of father drops his son off at a school that will try to kill him?” I growl out over the sound of the basketballs dribbling.

Dad replies without missing a beat,“The kind of father that doesn’t want to lose his son. If I coddle you, our enemies will kill you slower.”

“So you’d rather me die a fast death?”

“I’d rather you learned to fight. You tried to die and failed. Now it’s time to be a man.”

“Is that why you forced Mila upon me?” I probe. Dad rarely drops so many clues; let’s see if I can get him to give me a few more.

“The Michelson girl was nothing more than a deal that was too good to pass.”

“Oh good, she’s nothing then. So I can do what I want with her.” I challenge, gripping my crutch tightly.

“Don’t make me step in, Dash. You will treat her with respect.”

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