Page 61 of Sinful Like Us
He looks pained. “It’s not a big deal—”
“You’re using drugs!” Her eyes bug. “We said we’dnevertake the easy out and use performance enhancers!”
“Ballet is different than swimming.”
“Fuck that,” Sulli cringes. “Jane is right. You didn’t tell me because I’m the one person who chose a sport over a childhood and I’m theoneperson who can tell youfuck your excuses.”
Beckett shoots to his feet. “What about you? The second you retire from swimming you’re all of a sudden drinking alcohol and passing out—at least I’m not pointlessly destroying my body.”
I wince.
“Cold, brother,” Eliot says sadly.
Sulli grits her teeth. “Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you,” Beckett snaps.
We did not plan for a friendship to blow to smithereens tonight. I spring to my feet. Thatcher stands, and Maximoff is already at Sulli’s side, ushering her backwards while I talk to Beckett and repeat the same ultimatum.
Beckett holds out his hands like he’s at gunpoint. “If I leave, the company will replace me in Cinderella withLeo. He’s already being called theblondversion of me.” Leo Valavanis is the same age, same height, same build, and same costume measurements as Beckett, and he’s also another male principal dancer. Unfortunately, their rivalry in the company has created good buzz for the ballet.
“You can stay in Cinderella,” I remind him. “Just stop using.”
Beckett massages his palm. “And if I don’t? You can’t force me on a plane.”
I quirk my brow. “I’m your big sister. I can do anything.”
He takes a few tense breaths, still on his feet.
Charlie rises, leaning his weight on a cane. “What have you learned, children?” This is a classic Cobalt word game.
What have you learned, children?Whoever asks this directs the game to those younger than them.
Beckett is next in age and supposed to pick a line of poetry, the others will then add to his opening line.
He stares at the table. “I’m not playing.”
Eliot rises. “It was all decaying.”
Tom leans back. “I can feel us fraying.”
Ben opens his mouth to finish the poem. His eyes start filling with tears. And he buckles forward and cries into his palms.
My heart tears to shreds. Usually Beckett is the one to console our youngest brother. But his face contorts in pain, and he pushes out of the booth.
Leaving.
Charlie follows, their bodyguards leading the way. I worry that Beckett will go out tonight.
But quickly, I slip into the booth and hug Ben. He cries into my shoulder.
“He’ll be okay, Pippy,” I whisper, and I look up at Thatcher. He crouches so we’re more eye-level.
“I’ve asked Akara to put my brother with Beckett tonight. He agreed.”
Banks is doubling up on Beckett’s detail. I breathe easier.Banks will look after Beckett.I know Thatcher’s brother has been drinking, but definitely not enough to be more than buzzed.
“Thank you,” I say, my torn heart mending in a strong beat.
