Page 1 of When We Break

Prologue

SKYLA

“Ihave to go.” I shake my head as I shove a jumper into my suitcase as both men who mean the most to me watch. Connor, my older brother, leans against the doorjamb of my bedroom, broodily glaring at me through his black-rimmed glasses, while Mikhail, my dance partner and best friend of ten years, paces in front of my bed.

“You do not have to go,” Mik insists, his voice thick with emotion and the Russian accent he never lost even though he’s lived in New York City since he was fifteen. “Dammit, we will send him to jail.”

I scoff at that and shake my head, then reach over and scratch Riley’s belly before I return to my closet to grab more clothes.

“He always skirts just on this side of the law,” I remind them as if we could forget. “But he scares me. I can’t dance professionally anyway, Mik. Not anymore.”

He snorts and shakes his head stubbornly. “You’ll recover.”

God, I love this handsome Russian. We’ve danced together since we were sixteen, and he’s always been loyal and stubborn.

“I’m not going to recover from this one.” I reach out and take his hand, then give it a squeeze. “We both know it. We’ve had our last curtain call.”

My emotional Russian shakes his head again, and Connor rakes his hand through his hair in agitation.

I think this whole situation is worse on my big brother. He’s beyond wealthy, he’s powerful, and he’s strong.

And even he can’t fix this.

“Where will you go?” Mik doesn’t meet my eyes, but he pulls me into his arms and hugs me, kissing the top of my head.

“Montana.”

Mik gasps and pulls away. Connor scowls.

“What the feck?” Connor asks, his Irish distinct when he gets upset. “Bloody why?”

“Because I like it there.” I shrug and toss another jumper in the bag. It’s cold in Montana, so I’ll definitely take all my jumpers. The rest can be shipped to me later. “And no one would think to look for me in a small town.”

“Skyla.” My friend shakes his head, obviously not happy with this news. “What happens when you are ready to dance again?”

“Mik.” I sigh and sit on the edge of the bed, facing them both. “Dancing is over for me.”

Mik mumbles some swear words in Russian and paces away.

“It’s been ruined. But mylifeisn’t over, so I’m taking it back. I’m going to Montana, where I’ll settle in and open a dance studio. I’ll teach.”

“You are not a fucking teacher,” Mik insists, practically spitting out that last word. “You are aprima ballerina. You’ve danced as Giselle and Kitri. You are not some small-town dance teacher. I won’t allow it, malishka.”

I glance over at Connor, who’s stayed quiet, observing us.

“You’re too quiet over there.”

“You know my feelings on the matter,” my brother replies with a shrug. “It’s pissed I am that you’re running away, but more than that, I’m fecking furious that this bleeding arsehole won’t leave you be. I’ve threatened him. I’ve done everything I can legally do, and you won’t let me?—”

“No.” I shake my head, swallowing hard. “I won’t let youcall someoneto have him dealt with.”

I couldn’t live with having a person’s life ended on my account.

Even if that arsehole has tormented me every day for the past two years.

“You have an expensive, well-trained dog,” Mik reminds me, eyeing Riley, who watches us from the middle of the bed.

“Not the one I wanted to buy her,” Connor adds, and I sigh once again. “We should have gotten the one that’s trained to attack. To kill.”

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