Page 23 of Facing Off
So do I.It kills me thinking she might be in trouble.
“But if she’s at the studio and knows I sent you, it’s over,” says Quinn. “She hates it when anyone?—”
“—shows her any kind of concern, worry, or care,” I quip. “Yup, I’m aware.”
He groans. “This is going to blow up in our faces.”
Lokhov crosses his arms. A ripple of something crosses his face. “Keep me updated. Kavi is worried, too. Sonya hasn’t answered her calls either.”
“She has to be at the studio.” Quinn’s mouth thins. “Right?”
“She’ll be there.” I don’t know who I’m reassuring harder. Him or me. “And don’t worry, I won’t let her see me.”
“Because if she catches you, she’ll eat you alive,” Lokhov warns.
“I’m not scared,” I brag, trying to lighten the tension, even as I’m sprinting to my car to head to the studio.
“I’mscared,” Quinn admits, going along with it. “And I’m not even in the country!”
“Which is why you’re sending me.” The sigh out of my mouth is dramatic. “If I don’t make it, love my cat like she’s your own kid. And Lokhov? You have to put a shrine up of me in your house. No, make thattwoshrines.” My finger taps my chin. “Also Quinn, this is really important.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Make sure the team wears lockets with a picture of my face around their neck for the rest of their lives. If they don’t, I’ll have to haunt them forever. Me in a sexy robe?—”
“Whydo you always have to wear a sexy robe?!”
The three of us go back and forth like this, camouflaging our stress with banter.
Twenty minutes later, I’ve hung up the phone and pulled up to her studio. My heart races as I go inside. What if she’s not here? What if there’s a reason to worry about why she’s not answering Quinn’s calls? Is Sonya actually in trouble? Suddenly, I’m pumping my legs harder. Going faster. Almost running.
According to the signs inside there’s a large auditorium and a small auditorium.
The small one is empty.
The large one isn’t. I hear voices echoing. Up a staircase and around the corner, there’s a hallway that leads to a stage. I walk down that way, and I’m about to step around the curtain to go to the stage when I see a tall woman with brown skin and dark hair standing there. In the middle as if ready to perform.
The pulse in my throat leaps violently.
There she is.
Sonya.
My legs go weak.Relief floods me.
She’s standing there with her pinched eyebrows and that full, kissable mouth downturned into a frown. Her black hair is pulled up into a tight bun. Pair that with her usual aura of grumpiness and a dark purple tutu, and she looks breathtaking.
I thought the fact that we haven’t seen each other in six months would’ve tempered my reaction to her, but it hasn’t. Nothing does. Every time I see her, my heartbeat scrambles, and I lose my train of thought.
I need to get over this. Over her.
Fuck.Wasn’t that the idea?
Slipping my hands into my pockets, I tell myself that’s why I should go. Quinn will be relieved to know his sisterseems okay. Having confirmed that, I should get out of here.
Abruptly lights dim. That’s when I notice there’s an audience. About twenty people are seated in front of the stage. Music begins playing.
Suddenly, I can’t move, because Sonya starts dancing.
