Page 5 of Natasha
"It's Brandon," he said through gritted teeth.
"Sir, I think you should leave. I'm more than happy to discuss your daughter's progress in the class with you during normal school hours, but as you can see…" Natasha gestured to where the last student skipped through the doors with an excited look on their face. Natasha bit her lip when she saw that it was Madeline, which meant that it was Silas picking her up. She wished she was staring up at Silas and not Brandon, with his too hungry eyes, which gave her a sick feeling in her stomach.
"I think right now works," Brandon said, his voice low. He took another step toward her, but not before glancing over his shoulder at the sound of the studio door clicking shut behind Madeline. "You can stop pretending now, Red. Everyone's gone."
"I wish you would stop calling me that, Mr. Peachtree."
"Brandon," he repeated, glaring at her. He took a step toward her and then another, until Natasha found herself backing up faster than her brain could process.
Steady heart, she thought to herself as she began to search for a way out of her situation. Her mother and grandmother were both gone for the evening, and her class was the last of the night, which meant that Natasha was all alone except for the off chance the janitor had arrived early. Her eyes darted over to where her duffel bag sat on the floor with her phone inside. If she could grab the bag and make it to the bathroom just outside the classroom, she would be able to lock herself inside and call for help. Looking back up at Brandon, Natasha licked her lips and cleared her throat to speak when he surprised her by suddenly reaching forward and grabbing her. His fingers dug roughly into her arms as he jerked her against him.
"I see you licking your lips. You're a damn tease, aren't you, Red?" he growled, his breath hot on her face. "Like it rough. I know you do."
Natasha twisted to the side and tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. "Mr. Peachtree, let me go."
"You think I don't see what you're playing at here? In this outfit that's barely clothing?" He gave her a shake, his eyes raking over her with a heat that made Natasha's stomach lurch. She wanted to cover up, to be anywhere but here, but no matter how hard she pulled back, Brandon only held fast to her.
"Stop it!" Natasha raised her hands up and shoved as hard as she could. "Let me go or I'll—"
"You'll what? You think I don't know why you dress the way you do? That I don't see the way you look at me?" Brandon was close now, pushing her back against the mirrored wall, his hands rough on her body and his hips grinding against her. Natasha could feel that familiar wave of panic that had dropped her to the floor her final night on stage. There was a roaring in her ears, and she swallowed hard, trying to stay on her feet while Brandon's breath was hot on her neck as he leered at her.
Pleading with a man like this wasn't going to do anything. She had to do something—and fast. Otherwise, she was going to end up as just another statistic in the Brooklyn crime blotter. Just as she was mustering her strength to give another shove at Brandon's chest, a movement over his shoulder caught her eye, and she had a fleeting sense of hope. Maybe a parent had come back to grab a forgotten jacket. She could use the distraction to escape.
"Did you hear me, Red?" Brandon was less than an inch from her face, his attention so focused on her he hadn't noticed that someone else was in the room. Natasha didn't answer him but, instead, craned her neck to see who it was. Brandon saw her attention shift, and he turned to look over his shoulder. It was only when he moved that Natasha was able to see who had entered the dance studio.
Silas.
A very angry Silas.
* * *
Silas was like an avenging angel.All golden hair, bright eyes that glittered like the wrong side of a knife edge, and clenched fists that looked capable of ripping out every floorboard in the dance studio.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Silas' voice sounded like a gunshot in the too quiet room.
"Mr. Peachtree was just leaving," Natasha blurted out. Both men turned to look down at her, Brandon with a scowl and Silas with a glare that burned Natasha to her core.
"The fuck he was," Silas growled, his eyes shifting up to the man whose fingers were still digging painfully into her arms. His eyes locked on to Brandon's hands, and he stalked forward. "Get your hands off her."
"Red…" Brandon said, his voice trailing off in a warning that made Natasha want to scream. How dare he act as if he had a right to her body, a right to touch her?
"Get your hands off me, Mr. Peachtree," Natasha spat, her emerald eyes flashing. She stepped to the side and finally managed to wrench her arms out of his hands. She hated that she would have bruises where he had grabbed her by tomorrow morning. Natasha shakily walked toward where Silas stood, eyes trained on Brandon, but she had only managed to take a few steps when Brandon spoke.
"You're a fucking tease."
Natasha preferred not to say anything. Silas was of a different opinion.
Silas stepped in front of Natasha, blocking her from the other man's view. "And you're a predator," he said, jabbing a finger at Brandon.
"Who the fuck are you?" Brandon scoffed, turning his attention to Silas. Natasha took a step back, watching the two men square off. Brandon wasn't a small man, but where his bulk was lithe, like a runner, Silas looked like he had been built for war. He easily had the other man by four inches and outweighed Brandon by at least forty pounds of solid muscle.
Natasha didn't envy Brandon's current situation.
"Mr. Peachtree, please leave. You and your daughter are no longer welcome here," Natasha said, her voice ringing in the still too quiet room.
"What?" Brandon exploded. He took a threatening step forward, only to be rebuffed by Silas' imposing figure. "What are you saying?" he yelled at Natasha, though he had stopped his forward movement.
Natasha crossed her arms over her chest and met Brandon's gaze with a cool one of her own, despite the fact that she was trembling. "I'm saying that you are no longer welcome here and your daughter is no longer a student of ours."
