Half my deck now laid in a pile of rubble off to the side. It had been a week and a half since her father's funeral. Three days since Lilly returned home from Jackson Hole, and the only reason I knew that was because Ethan had let it slip that Eliza was staying at her apartment to keep an eye on her. I guess I should have been thankful that they were both back in Pembrooke for the next several months on the tail of Ethan's Super Bowl win, but I couldn't stop thinking that I should be the one taking care of her.
I still hadn't seen her. My texts and calls had all gone unanswered. I felt like I was missing a major piece of myself, a piece I needed in order to live. I had no one to blame but myself for the way things had turned out between us, but the worry ate at me until I was so consumed with it I could barely function. I needed to know she was all right. I needed to know she was coping. But I had no right, she'd made that clear.
I reached for another board and ripped with all my might. "Ah! Son of a bitch!" I looked down to see a nail had ripped clean through the sleeve of my shirt. The blood bubbling from the jagged cut on my arm oozed over onto the torn fabric, staining it a dark crimson. Using my teeth, I ripped the gloves off my hand and stomped back into the house, slamming the door behind me.
I jerked the sleeve up my forearm and held it under the faucet at my sink, sucking in a sharp hiss as the water stung the cut. It didn't look like it needed stiches, but I'd definitely need to clean the bastard out really well. Bending low, I grabbed the First Aid kit from under the sink and tore open several alcohol pads. I welcomed the pain that lanced through my arm as I wiped the wound clean. Honestly, the burn was a welcome distraction from the intense ache I'd been living with for the past month. One pain just worked to mask the other.
My cellphone rang from the back pocket of my jeans just as I finished wrapping a piece of gauze around my arm. "What?" I barked into the phone, not bothering to look at the display.
"Uh … Quinn? This is Quinn, right?"
At the unfamiliar man's voice, I pulled the phone from my ear and glanced at the screen to see an unknown number. I brought it back up and answered, "Yeah. This is Quinn."
"Quinn, this is Kyle, from the dance school. I got your number from Lilly's phone. I'm sorry for interrupting, but is there … do you think you could get down here? Soon?"
White-hot fear froze me from the inside out. "What's going on?"
"It's Lilly-" Before he had a chance to finish, I was moving through the kitchen, snatching my keys off the counter as I passed. "I'll be there in ten."
I disconnected the call and rushed out of my house into my truck, telling myself that if it were something really serious, he would have called 911, not me. But whatever was happening was bad enough for him to go through Lilly's phone in order to find my number.
My foot sat so heavy on the accelerator that I cut the time from my house to the studio in half, breaking every single rule of the road in order to get to Lilly.
The brakes screeched as I pulled into a spot right outside the school's doors. The blinds to the studio up front were drawn, but when I hit the main door, it was unlocked. Kyle and the other teacher, Samantha, stood in the lobby, both wearing equally anxious expressions on their faces. I could hear music playing from the first studio, but ignored it as I stomped toward them, demanding, "What's going on?"
Kyle held up his hands to slow me down. "Calm down. She's okay. Well, physically."
That didn't help one fucking bit to soothe my frayed nerves. "Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on? Where's Lilly? What's the matter?"
Kyle's face was painted with worry, and if I didn't know he was gay that look might have set me off. "She's not doing well," he finally admitted. "She's put on a brave face since she's been back so we wouldn't worry, but we knew it was all an act."
Samantha nodded her head and her eyes shown bright with unshed tears. "We were fine with letting her pretend as long as we thought she was actually getting better. But then this morning … "
"What happened this morning?"
Kyle dropped his head and gave it a small shake before looking back up at me. "Just … come with me." He led me over to the studio door. Stopping at the small window in the door, we stood side by side and looked through the glass at Lilly as she danced, but it wasn't the same. Her body was jerky, not fluid. Her face wasn't at peace. She looked exhausted, but kept on going. Sweat glistened over every inch of her body, her skin flushed red with exertion. I was able to recognize the X Ambassadors song even muffled through the door, and once "Unsteady" came to an end it started all over again.