LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2) (24 page)

“Luka!” he yelled, sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around me. “Good to see you, brother. It’s been too long.”

For a moment we just held each other.
Family
. I felt guilty for not keeping in touch with everyone as much as I should. Guilt and shame had kept me from the people who loved me, which officially made me as dumb as dirt, too.

Eventually, he let me go and sat on the floor, leaning back on his hands.

“Laney sends her love. She’s cooking dinner tonight.” He rolled his eyes. “I begged her to go to a restaurant, but she wanted to make something special . . .” and we both winced.

Laney’s cooking rarely worked out as she’d intended. She liked to experiment. Ash liked to eat out.

Yveta interrupted impatiently, frowning at Ash.

“You’re late,” she said, getting to the point immediately.

He sighed, the happiness at us all being together evaporating like morning mist.

“Yes. We have a problem.”

He glanced at Yveta and Gary, his expression wary and concerned.

“We can’t tour
Slave
next year.”

There was a stunned silence, followed instantly by everyone speaking at once.

“What the fuck?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why not?”

“What’s the problem?”

Ash rubbed his eyes.

“I don’t know the legal words, but I’ve received a court order.”

His mouth clamped into a thin line before he continued.

“Volkov,” he spat, “is claiming libel—defamation of character leading to a loss of business—and the court says we can’t tour with
Slave
right now.”

Of all the explanations that had whirred through my brain,
that
name had not been part of it. It pissed me off, but I hadn’t suffered at his hands, not like my friends.

Gary’s skin was gray with fear, and I thought Yveta was going to faint.

“How can he do this?” asked Oliver. “We don’t mention his full name anywhere in the programs. What does Selma say?”

“She’s taking legal advice,” Ash sighed. “It’s because I gave the name of his hotel in an interview, and the journalist linked him directly to human trafficking.”

“But how does that affect the show?” Oliver asked. “I can understand that he’d come after you—no offense, Ash—but why stop the show?”

“I don’t know,” Ash growled with frustration. “Because it’s getting so much press coverage? I don’t know! Laney’s friend Angela is looking at the legal documents to see what can be done. It’s all bullshit, but they’re saying we have to go through
the process
, whatever the fuck that means.”

“I thought he was under investigation by the FBI?” Gary said faintly.

“He is! But he’s saying
Slave
has damaged his reputation and he’s having trouble booking shows into the theater.”

“Ballsy,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “So where does that leave us?”

Ash closed his eyes and hung his head.

“I don’t know.”

“No,” I said, thumping the wooden floor and making everyone jump. “Fuck him! Fuck all of them! Let’s do it anyway!”

Ash gave me a faint smile as the others nodded.

“We can’t tour
Slave
. No theater will take the show with a court case hanging over us.”

There was an angry silence as that news sank in.

“Then we make a new show.”

Heads turned in my direction as I spoke, and I saw the spark of hope in Ash’s eyes as he looked at me.

“We make a new show,” I repeated. “He can stop
Slave
—for now—but he can’t take our dancing away from us.”

“Yes,” Ash said slowly. Then more loudly, “Yes! We are survivors!”

He clapped his hands, impatiently waving us into a circle around him.

Gary rolled his eyes, softening the angry tension in the room. “Yes, Dad!”

I laughed at his antics. It was true that Ash was the Creative Director of
Syzygy
, his dance theater company, but he was also the youngest of us.

“Thank you,” he said, energy pulsing through his voice. “You, my friends, are my inner circle and you’re all skilled choreographers. So now we have a challenge—to use this week and come up with the skeleton for a new show.” He paused. “
Slave
has done really well and we could tour with that another time, but . . .” he glanced at Yveta and then me. “But I think maybe fate is telling us that we’re all ready to move on from that, so . . . a new dance-drama. Let’s hear your ideas.”

I listened to Oliver’s idea for a show about the elements—earth, wind, fire and water—that sounded interesting.

Gary said doing something environmental about the planet would be on trend, but Oliver said
Cirque du Soleil
had already done something similar.

Yveta wanted to do something more traditional like a folktale or a fairy story, something more ballet-like.

“What about you?” Ash asked, looking at me.

I scratched my chin. I wasn’t as good a choreographer as any of the others, and I found it hard to express myself in words, but I did have an idea. I just wasn’t sure about it.

“I guess you all know that Sarah is pregnant . . .”

They all nodded, murmuring congratulations, while I gave a strangled smile.

“So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what that means: being a father, new life. I thought . . . maybe we could do something around that . . . the circle of life: birth, childhood, growing up, school, becoming an adult, becoming . . . becoming a parent. Life starting again, growing up, moving on, growing older. Death. And rebirth.”

The room was silent and I dropped my gaze to the floor.

“It’s a dumb idea . . .”

“No,” said Ash. “I like it. I like it a lot.”

There was a silence following his words, then Yveta spoke.

“It’s brilliant.”

Gary snorted. “He’s back half a day and already the Ice Prince and the Snow Queen are BFFs. Ugh, they’re so beautiful and brilliant—it’s totally vomit-inducing.”

Which was Gary’s way of saying he liked the idea.

Oliver nodded his agreement. “That’s a strong theme: I like it, too.”

Ash closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again, I saw the determination in his expression.

“Yes, we will do this. That’s our theme:
Life Cycle
.”

“No,” said Yveta, with certainty. “
Circle of Life
, as Luka said.”

“God, no,” said Gary. “Far too Elton John.”

Yveta closed her eyes as if in pain. “
Life Circles
, then. Because we all spend our lives running in circles like chickens without heads.”

Ash smiled and nodded.

“I say we dance—we dance like the world is watching.”

My shoulders relaxed. I was so sure that they’d hate the idea. It made me realize that I wasn’t the fucked up loser of the last few months. I’d spent all that time trying to please Sarah and doing nothing for myself, no matter what she said. I’d let guilt do a number on me. I frowned at the floor as if it had some explaining to do. Yes, things would be different when I went back.
When.

“You look like you’re having very serious thoughts,” Yveta said, leaning her head on my shoulder.

I laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I know you don’t think so, but it does happen sometimes.”

I thought she’d smile, but she didn’t.

“You don’t seem very happy, Luka. What’s wrong?”

How the hell could I answer such a big question?

So I lied.

“Scared as fuck at the thought of being a father.”

She smiled. “I imagine every expectant parent feels that way.”

“Do you want to have children?”

She shook her head immediately.

“No. I wouldn’t bring a child into this evil world.”

I couldn’t help glancing at the pale scar on her cheek.

“You survived, Yveta.”

She didn’t respond for a moment.

“Part of me survived,” she said quietly, “but another part of me died. And I will never let a man use my body again.”

Ash hadn’t told me everything that had happened to Yveta, but I knew she’d been raped. Many times.

“Perhaps one day,” I said carefully.

“No.”

Then she deliberately changed the subject.

“You’ll be fine. Babies are tougher than they look. And you’re a natural at taking care of people.”

Her words surprised me. I’d always made it a mission to live as uncomplicated a life as possible. Although that hadn’t worked out so well lately . . . the responsibility for taking care of others hadn’t been something I wanted. And a baby was the ultimate rendering of that.

Yveta raised her eyebrows as I shook my head.

“No, I’m not. I don’t. I . . .”

“When Ash needed to leave Las Vegas, you wanted to send him every penny you had to help him escape. He told me this. When he needed someone he trusted to take
Slave
to the stage, you caught the first flight to Chicago to sleep on his couch for two months, not knowing if it would ever work. And when Sarah . . . you didn’t run away.”

Was that how she saw me? I felt like I’d gotten so much wrong in my life.

“You are a very intuitive dancer,” she said calmly, as if her words hadn’t shifted my view of the world, of myself. “You dance from your emotions. When you trust people, you care about them. You can’t help it.” She tilted her head to look at me. “Is this what happened with Sarah? You think you have to take care of her?”

“I love her,” I said defensively.

“I know. You love all your dance family,” she said seriously. “But you’re not
in love
with her.”

My mouth opened to deny it, but I just couldn’t.

My head dropped to my hands, and I felt Yveta’s soft touch on my rough cheek.

“You have to take care of yourself as well, Luka. Is unhappiness what you want to teach your child?”

“That’s . . . that’s not fair!”

She shrugged, and turned to Ash, mentioning a song that she thought would work for the new show, and our moment of shared truths was over.

Would that be my legacy to my child? No! I wouldn’t do that. I
couldn’t
do that. I’d grown up in a house where I wasn’t wanted. I knew what unhappiness looked like.

I felt Yveta’s hand squeeze mine, although she didn’t look at me again.

After five hours of tossing around songs and working on some dance ideas, we all headed back to Ash and Laney’s place for dinner.

She was having a good day, so wasn’t using her wheelchair. I gave her a huge hug when I saw her, careful not to squeeze too hard.

“Luka! It’s so good to see you. How are you? How’s Sarah? I can’t believe you’re going to be a father.”

And she hugged me back tightly.

“Good to see you, too, little sunshine,” I said, kissing her cheek. “Are we ordering in pizza?”

She swatted my ass as I danced away from her.

“No! I’ve spent the whole day in the kitchen cooking, and you’re going to love it. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Yveta perched on the couch with Gary, while I sat on the floor with Oliver, our plates loaded with a weird assortment of party food. Who knew that couscous worked on pizza? Yeah, wouldn’t recommend that. But the lasagna was good, and Oliver was eyeing the mountain of cupcakes with appreciation.

Laney curled up on the only armchair in the room, as Ash sat at her feet, his head leaning against her knees.

A flash of jealousy shamed me. I wanted that, the closeness they shared. I sure as fuck didn’t have it anymore with . . .

I stopped the thought dead.

They started asking me questions about working on
The Bodyguard
, Ash especially wanting to know if I’d picked up any tips that could work in the new show.

“Yeah, wear an athletic cup if you’re dancing with someone ballet trained.”

I raised my eyebrows and they all laughed.

“But as far as the show goes, I’d say avoid the pop video style—it’s become a cliché—just grabbing your cock and grinding, you know.”

“If only,” sighed Gary, and Yveta tossed a cushion at him.

“Or use that style, but subvert it—use it where it’s not expected. I don’t know if I’m making sense . . .”

Ash nodded, a small frown on his face as he followed my ramblings.

We talked about dance, gossip in the industry, and how we’d go about pitching the new idea to Selma, our producer/manager, so she could sell it to theaters across the U.S. If that went well, who knew what was possible?

Eventually, Yveta, Gary and Oliver left, and Laney piled sheets and blankets on the armchair for me before she headed for bed.

“Don’t drink too much,” she said, smiling at Ash as we slouched on the sofa, a bottle of Hennessy whiskey between us. “Night, Luka.”

The bedroom door closed and Ash poured us each a shot.

“So what’s going on with you and Sarah?” he asked.

He’d dropped into Slovene now we were alone. It was a relief to speak my own language again after so long.

“The baby is due at the end of February.”

“It happened at the wrap party?”

I grimaced and lined up another shot. “Yeah.”

“You said . . .”

“I know what I said! It was one time. She was drunk, I was drunk. It wasn’t supposed to . . . but it did.”

“And now?”

“And now we’re trying to make it work.”

Ash frowned.

“It works or it doesn’t: you can’t force it to work. I know you care about her. Is that enough, brother?”

I rubbed my eyes. “Yes, I think so. I’m going to be a father,” I said, looking up. “I want to be a good one. Better than . . .”

I didn’t need to finish. Ash knew how I’d grown up.

“And Seth?” he asked carefully.

“That’s over.”

He nodded but didn’t ask for details.

Instead, he filled our glasses for another shot.

“I thought you’d be . . . happier,” he said at last.

“It’s complicated. Sarah doesn’t know about Seth and . . .”

“Shit, Luka!”

“I know! I know, but Seth didn’t want her to know. Fuck, her own mother demanded that I never tell her. I didn’t agree, but now I don’t know. She’s changed. She’s so . . . unsure about everything. She does everything her mother tells her. I can’t reach her . . . I don’t know what to do. I thought when I asked her to marry me that she’d know I was committed, but it hasn’t made any difference.”