Page 86 of Restless (Brazen Bulls Birthright 5)

But really, it had always been hers alone.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The last time Jay hadfelt this tense and impatient, he’d been in cover with his Sig drawn.

On Wednesday, about two hundred miles from home, Duncan had driven the van over the remnants of an accident, and a shard of metal bumper had gone through the bottom of the engine like a javelin.

Instead of getting home on Wednesday, they’d sat on their asses in some nothing North Texas town.

Before Jay had a chance to text Petra that he’d be home a day later than planned, she texted him that she’d had a terrible day and couldn’t wait to see him. She’d said sheneededhim.

No one had ever said that to him before.

And he’d had to tell her he wouldn’t be there. He’d called to do it, rather than say it in text, and her reaction had been so flat and dull he was legitimately worried for her. Then she’d told himwhyher day had been so bad, and he’d gone to Dex to ask if he could head home on his own and not wait for the van.

That was a major breach of protocol, except for an emergency. Which this was—except that when Dex had asked what the emergency was, Jay had choked. He’d been overwhelmed by, first, the certainty Dex wouldn’t believe he was so involved with a woman her emergency was his as well, and second, a sense that it would be some kind of betrayal to tell Dex, who didn’t know Petra, about her troubles.

Thus, Dex had said no, and Jay was almost a full day later getting home than he should have been.

When they finally crossed into the Tulsa city limits, he hadn’t looked around, hadn’t tried to let anybody know what he intended, damn sure hadn’t asked. He’d sped up, peeled off the group, and headed to where he knew Petra would be.

Now he stood in a strip-mall parking lot in Oakhurst, watching a stream of little girls and their moms come out the doors of a dance studio. He got guarded looks from several of the moms, and curious looks from their little girls. He put on a bland smile and held the door until the stream petered out.

Inside, there was a reception desk but no one at it. A few stragglers in the hallway, giving him more guarded and/or curious looks. Feeling pretty fucking self-conscious now, he kept the bland smile on and passed them by.

The first door he came to was closed. A sign on it read ‘LOCKERS,’ so he went by it. The next door, also closed, was on the other side of the hall. He could hear the heavy drumbeat of African music. There was a small window in the door, so he peered in. A full class, men and women, dancing before a mirrored wall. An older black woman, draped in African cloth, led the class. Jay continued down the hall, past a closed door marked ‘OFFICE’ and stopped at the next one with a window.

Through that window, he saw a quiet, mostly empty studio. Petra was in there with a girl about ten years old. She was helping the girl with some moves.

Leaning sidelong on the door, Jay watched through the window. It was a different kind of dancing from the hip-hop stuff she did on TikTok with her friend Keisha. This was more fluid, almost like ballet. Hell, maybe it was ballet; he wouldn’t know. They were barefoot, though, not in those little pink shoes ballerinas wore.

After a few minutes of going over the same piece of routine, Petra turned music on: ‘Unsteady,’ by the X Ambassadors—a song Jay knew not because he liked it but because his mother did. Petra hurried back to her student, and together they went through a whole dance. When they got to the part they’d been working on, he saw Petra’s attention sharpen on the girl’s feet, and she grinned brightly when the girl got it right. Jay found himself grinning, too.

It dawned on him that the hallway had gone quiet; when he looked back, he saw that everyone had gone. African drums still beat away in the other studio, though.

When the song was over, Petra high-fived the girl, then hugged her. They talked for another minute or so, and then the girl waved and headed for the door. Jay stepped away, moving toward the back of the hallway. When the girl came out, she didn’t notice him; she went the other way up the hallway and into the locker room.

Jay went back to the studio door and grabbed the handle—but then he stopped. Petra had started the song over again and was moving to the center of the studio. She meant to dance, and he didn’t want to interrupt her. He wanted to watch.

He’d seen all of Keisha’s videos with Petra dancing with her, but the only time he’d seen her really dance in person had been at the Dawghouse—which was awesome, she was amazing and he’d never had so much fun, but he’d been dancing with her. This was his first chance to really watch her.

She was so damn beautiful. In snug, stretchy black pants and a snug, stretchy black top that bared her arms and a couple inches of belly, she was grace and strength embodied.

Was it creepy to be standing out here when she didn’t know? Probably, yeah. He did it anyway.

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