Something crosses Sarah's expression, but she nods once, grabs her bag, and walks to the door. She stops next to Eric. "Don't forget your promise to me. I’m tired of being your little errand girl," she whispers, but I hear her.
“Just go find the director and let him know that you’ll be dancing the role of the swan in the afternoon rehearsals.”
Sarah nods once and steps out, closing the door behind her, leaving Eric and me alone. Something about the way Eric looks at me has me taking a step back, and I gasp when my back hits the dressing table. "What was that about?" I ask, feeling my heart race. "What promise did you make to Sarah? What errands was she talking about?”
“Forget about that,” he says, walking forward. “I want to talk about us.”
“Us?”
"Don't act clueless," he hisses. "It pisses me off when women pretend to be stupid. You're not stupid, Gia, are you?"He kicks the wall before closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, seemingly to calm himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you. It’s common for women to play hard to get and toy with men. I don’t have to like it.”
“Eric—”
“A real man doesn’t shy away from his feelings, so I’ll come out and say what we both know. I’m in love with you, Gia.” My jaw drops to the floor but he’s not done. “And I know that you’re in love with me, too. I see it every time we dance together, and when you look at me, it’s like you want me to fuck you.” Then his eyes darken and his mouth flattens into a line. “Everything was perfect, but then you went and cheated on me!”
“C-cheated?”
“Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” he rages. “You think I don’t know about the guy you’ve been hanging around with these past couple of weeks? At first, I was sure he was just a friend, but you moved in with him. Did you fuck him too?"
I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. My brain feels overloaded with the information, and my heart is heavy with emotions. “You’re my stalker?”
“I’m the man who loves you!” he roars, kicking the table.
“Eric,” I start, bringing my trembling fingers to my chest. “We’re…just dance partners. Friends. When I… If I looked at you with loving eyes, it’s because you are Siegfried and I am Odette, two characters in a fictional story that are in love with one another. I… I had to do it so the audience would believe our performance." I take in a deep breath that does little to calm my fears. “I look up to you so much, Eric. As a mentor and a friend, but we can’t be anything more than that.”
I scream and fall to a crouch when he grabs the chair and slams it against the wall.
"Fucking slut!" he yells. "You knew exactly what you were doing, touching me and looking at me like you wanted me!"
I scream again when he kicks the wall next to me.
"You knew I was sending you those flowers and letters. You had to know it was me. I signed my fucking name on the letters...”
Name?
The notes were signed with a rose… Oh shit. Eric Rose. I should have made the connection immediately. Maybe then I wouldn’t be crouched on the floor, fearing for my life.
“I gave my heart to you, picked the best fucking flowers I could find to gift you, and how do you repay me? By moving in with another man! Does he have any idea that you're a cock tease and a fucking whore?"
He’s ranting to himself now, so I take the opportunity to escape as I crawl past him and bolt for the door just as it flings open and I crash into a solid body. I look up, panicked, to find Dante's wild eyes locked on the man in the room, but I don't have time to react before I’m shoved behind him. But before he does, I see it in his eyes.
The danger. The venom.
My eyes drop to the gun in his hand, and my heart nearly stops as the memory of his words rings in my head.
I would kill for you, Gia Marino. I would burn the world for you or die trying, and doesn't that make me fucking insane?
Eric seems to have lost all sense of reality as he lunges at Dante, and I scream just as a shot rings out, muted and yet stillincredibly deafening. Eric cries out in pain and drops to the floor with a thud, and I try to think positively. If he's screaming, then he's not dead. I'm shaking as I peek past Dante’s large body and to the man sobbing on the floor. Dante walks to him and leans down to whisper something in his ear before using the butt of his gun to knock him unconscious.
The ease with which he shot Eric should scare me a little, but I find myself clinging to him. My face is buried in his chest, and I inhale his scent to calm myself as we wait for the cops.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“Home,” I whisper into his chest, fighting back tears that clog my throat. “Please take me home.”
“In a moment,mia passerotta,” he rasps, pressing his lips to my forehead. We stay locked like that until the police show up and separate us to give our statements. I give mine, half terrified they’ll take Dante away for shooting Eric, but they don’t. The rehearsals are canceled, and the theatre is closed pending the investigation, but I find that I don't care about any of that. Even when the police take Sarah in for working with Eric, I find that all I want is to get home and be with the man who saved me more than once.
I cling to his side on the way home, and I don’t argue when Dante draws us a bath, pulling me into it with him. I cling to him in the water, seeking comfort from the overwhelming events of the day.
