I realized that his hands were on my shoulders. I knew I should say something, but I couldn’t speak. I’d been waiting six years for someone to say those words to me, while at the same time ensuring that no one ever could. It had taken my bid to save Darrell to let him save me.
All of my memories came rushing up out of the darkness, but for the first time it didn’t feel like I was falling down into a pit. They were still raw and painful—in fact, I had the horrible realization that the dancing and the cutting and the bike meant I hadn’t ever allowed myself to fully relive them—but I no longer felt like I was sliding out of control. I was terrified of them, but facing them seemed possible, now.
I drew in a deep, shuddering breath and nodded, seeing his relief through a film of tears. But I knew we weren’t done. My past hadn’t been the only thing that had ripped us apart. As long as his work and Carol still possessed him, there was no way we could be together. And if that hadn’t changed, if he knew we were apart for good...my guts twisted. Did that mean he’d just lied about my past, safe in the knowledge that he’d never see me again? Was he just easing his conscience, and hated me after all?
I looked into his eyes and I couldn’t see any deception there. I didn’t believe he’d lie to me—not about that—but then I hadn’t believed him capable of evil, either. How could I ever completely trust him, knowing what he did? Would Carol manipulate him into building more and worse weapons? And would she keep whispering in his ear until he slept with her?
“What about you?” Barely more than a whisper.
“I’ll show you.” He held out his hand. “If you’ll come with me.”
“Now?”
“Has to be right now. You’ll see why.”
It took a heartbeat to decide. I pushed back through the doors and Miss Kay was standing there waiting, hands on hips. The rest of the class stood silent and curious behind her.
I didn’t have to say anything, my expression telling her everything she needed to know. She pursed her lips. “You’d better be in here early tomorrow with moves like I’ve never seen.”
I nodded frantically and ran.
***
Downstairs, Neil was using every ounce of his charm to stop a female police officer slapping a ticket on a van. We got in, me in the middle, and sped off with him promising her good karma.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we headed out of the city. Looking behind my seat, I could see a long shape with a sheet thrown over it, and a sports bag. “Is that—”
“Yep. And we’re going to Big Earl’s,” Darrell said.
From the look of raw determination on his face, Big Earl’s wasn’t somewhere anyone went willingly. It suddenly sank in that I was in a leotard and tights. “What are we going to do at Big Earl’s?”
Darrell gave me a long look. “The right thing.”
***
Big Earl’s turned out to be a series of linked lots, surrounded by chain link fences topped with razor wire. There was a motorcycle club, a garage and a junkyard. Darrell parked the van outside the club, and six guys in biker gear sauntered over, menace on their faces. Neil jumped out and nodded to them, and that seemed to pacify them. Then I climbed out in my ballet gear and suddenly they were very interested.
Another car pulled up—a green Aston Martin. Carol got out, slammed her door and looked around her. “What the hell, Darrell? I mean, really, what the hell?” She glanced at me, smirking at my outfit.
“Let’s take a walk,” Darrell told her coldly. Neil threw me his leather jacket and I slipped it on, and then Darrell was leading Carol and me through a gate into the junkyard, leaving Neil with the van.
The roads between the stacks of rusting cars were packed dirt, and my pointe shoes were trashed by the time I’d gone ten paces. Carol, in her Jimmy Choos, didn’t fare much better. “An explanation, Darrell?” she said. “What is this—a new project? Please tell me you’ve arranged a demonstration.”
“In a manner of speaking,” Darrell told her. I’d never heard him sound so calm...or so cold.
It was a few minutes before we reached the end of the row. As we turned the corner, we heard a car roar up, and got there just in time to see Carol’s Aston Martin screech to a stop, top down and Neil at the wheel.
Carol tensed, about to shout something, but then her eyes narrowed. As Neil got out and walked towards us, we saw the missile, wedged diagonally into the space behind the Aston’s front seats. “It’s finished?” Carol asked, suddenly breathless. “I can take it right now?”
“It’s finished,” Darrell told her. Then he looked at me. “But you aren’t taking it.”
A massive, four-wheeled loader roared up, with two vicious-looking forks pointing straight out in front. Everyone looked from it to the car, and Carol had time to draw in a single, strangled breath before the forks stabbed straight through the car’s body and out the other side.
“Are you insane?” Carol’s voice shook. “That’s my—”
“Sabre gave it to me.” Darrell reminded her. “I let you have it because I thought I owed you. But you’ve been using me from the start.”
The loader heaved the car into the air and rolled forward. A few pieces of the Aston fell to the ground—a door mirror, a license plate—as if it was bleeding. Now everyone turned to look at where the loader was heading: the car crusher.
“You can’t,” Carol said, her face deathly pale. “Darrell, we’ve got buyers for the missile. You can’t—” She started forward, but Neil clapped a firm hand on her shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be worrying about the missile.” Darrell was speaking to Carol, but looking at me. “In the trunk there’s a bag. In the bag is every hard drive from every one of my computers. Everything I’ve ever made for you, for the last four years.”
The loader dumped the car into the crusher and reversed away. A man—from his girth, Big Earl—stood ready at the crusher controls.
Carol spun to face Darrell. “That’s your work! That’s your life’s work!”
Darrell took a deep breath. “That’s not the life I want anymore.” He looked at me. “Lift your hands above your head.”
“What?” Everything was happening so fast.
“Lift your hands above your head.” Darrell indicated the crusher. “It’s the signal.”
“Don’t!” Carol’s voice was like ice. She stepped in front of me, but somehow, despite her designer clothes and her perfect hair, I wasn’t intimidated anymore.
I thought of the countless hours Darrell must have spent in that workshop. “Are you sure?”
He walked over and kissed me, his warm lips feeling so right on mine that I thought I was going to melt into the ground. He clutched me to him, one arm around my waist as with the other he stroked my pinned-back hair. After a second, I remembered to lift my arms above my head. I was too busy kissing him to see the car crushed, but I heard the tortured groan of metal and the popping as the windows broke. The most satisfying sound was Carol’s utter, shocked silence as she realized she’d been beaten. When we finally broke the kiss, she was still staring at the crusher.
“What did you do to him?” she said at last, her voice raw and savage.
I gazed at Darrell. “I inspired him,” I told her proudly.
As we walked back to the van, we kept casting little glances at each other. The wind was blowing his hair and he kept grinning every time he looked at me—and I knew I was doing the same. He was free. I didn’t have to share him anymore, didn’t have to see him eaten up from the inside by his rage. God knows we both still needed healing, but we’d taken the first steps. I felt whole, for the first time in six years.
We climbed into the van. I had my whole life ahead of me. My man, my friends, my career—
I suddenly looked at the clock on the dashboard. Twenty to two. I sat back in my seat and laughed.
Darrell climbed into the driver’s seat. “What?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter. I just—I had a call back today for the audition. The one you first saw me at.”
“Well? Let’s go!”
I smiled sadly at him. “It’s back in the city and it starts in twenty minutes.”
He looked over his shoulder at his bike, strapped down in the back of the van. “I can get you there in ten.”
***
Three minutes later, I was clinging to Darrell’s back as we roared around a corner, leaning so far over that my knees felt like they were brushing the highway. Neil had lent me his helmet and I’d kept on his leather jacket, but otherwise I was still in my ballet outfit. If I’d dared to lift my face from between Darrell’s shoulders, I would have seen people giving us some very odd looks.
We whipped around an 18-wheeler, missing an oncoming SUV by scant inches. I wanted to scream, but I wasn’t sure if it was in exhilaration or terror.
***
I burst through the door of the audition room and saw Sharon Barkell do a double take. I’d taken off the helmet, but I was still wearing a biker jacket and my pointe shoes were stained brown with mud.
“Is everything...are you alright?” she asked.
I walked to the center of the room. “Everything’s just fine,” I told her, beaming. Darrell crept in and I tossed him the helmet and jacket. He took a seat at the back, just like the first time.
I wasn’t kidding myself. We both had a long way to go, and I knew that when the adrenaline wore off there would be more pain as we healed. But knowing that we’d face that together, it seemed possible. Anything seemed possible.
“Okay,” said Sharon. “Same thing as last time, but with a little more lightness. Give me a second.” She fiddled with her laptop, cueing up the music.
I looked across at Darrell. He’d done his part, but lifting the guilt from me was still only the first step. The next one I had to take on my own.
For the first time in a long, long time, I let go of everything. I let go of the feeling of the still-fresh cuts on my thigh. I let go of the feeling of my legs, aching from the punishment I’d given them on the bike. I even let go of Darrell—for a little while—and trusted that he’d be there when I needed him. As the music started, I allowed myself to just...be, stepping out with nothing to cling onto and accepting the memories for what they were. For once, I wasn’t dancing to block something out or to punish myself. I was dancing for the sheer simple joy of it and there was nothing so good in the world.