08

"PEOPLE DIED . . . "

My words seemed to fly in one of Semaj's ears and out the other just as quickly as they left my lips. His eyes are too busy on the countless cameras and news reporters posted around the quad trying to get the latest scoop from students. I couldn't help but feel a pit in the bottom of my stomach, a gut-retching sensation that made me want to throw up the more I walked. I can only think about one thing — one man.

Did I help hide a murderer?

Did I hide a fucking murderer under my bed? Because I'm pretty sure that's a crime, like a pretty big one if I'm not mistaken. I can't go to prison those inmates would have a field day with me, and those jumpsuits are not flattering at all and how many retakes do we get with our mugshot I need at least three tries and if it's really cute can I print it out?

"Yo, Kylo," Semaj waves his hands in my face and suddenly I'm snapped out of my thoughts and not heading to prison anymore. "you've been zoning out all morning are you okay?"

"Am I okay? People died Semaj." I told him again in case the numerous cameras and news outlets around us didn't remind him.

His dark eyes rolled. "Niggas die every day," he casually shrugged his shoulders at me. It's times like this that I'm reminded just how different Semaj's and my upbringing were despite the many similarities we share. He grew up in Chicago, and he tells me all the time about the crime he witnessed from when he was a child until now so of course he's a little more desensitized to this. Meanwhile, I grew up in a small suburb in Arizona with a mom who did everything in her power to shield me from the violence of the world. I'm not used to this.

"and honestly the people dying aren't even the most fucked part in all of this." he continued.

I raised a brow at him.

"It's how the people were supposedly killed that Friday night and we didn't find out until today, Monday morning. Why keep something like that under wraps for so long? Shit is weird."

"Maybe because the victims were locals. Maybe it was hard to identify them." I shrugged, the two of us taking a seat on a nearby bench. I remove my backpack from behind me and sit it on my lap, my chin resting against the zipper.

"Even so they still should've let us know when it happened instead of having campus police burst into our rooms at bumfuck in the morning," Semaj shakes his head, long arms extending along the bench. "I'm telling you, this city does not care about anyone who isn't in some position of power. If your face is not on tv or you don't have a shit ton of money in your bank account you're fucked."

My mind immediately traces back to him from last night. What's his excuse? Obviously, he's someone dangerous, the blood that covered him was a clear indication of that but is he so dangerous that he's able to get away with things like this? I have no real proof that he was the one behind the murders but the evidence all leads to him. The blood-stained clothes, the gun tucked into the waist of his pants, and the overall aura that radiated off him that night told me he was a man capable of doing that. He even said it himself he would've killed me for that stupid hard drive. He's a killer and I let him under my bed and fixed his wounds.

I felt a nudge in my shoulder and I was quickly met with the confused face of Semaj's brows raising at me as his face fixed into a worried expression. "You okay man? You were zoning out again."

I don't realize I'm in my head until he calls me out on it, my fingers digging in my backpack on my lap so aggressively my tips are turning pink. I immediately let go. "Y-yeah, it's just been a long weekend."

"Probably still got some of that molly that Enzo gave us in you." He laughed, elbow hitting me teasingly.

My eyes rolled up to the cloudless sky, a low groan escaping my lips. "Please don't remind me of that." Even though it was my first time taking MDMA and the experience wasn't bad it's not something I would want to do again and I think that's fair to say. I tried, I had fun, but I don't even want to do it again.

He places a rubbing hand on my shoulder. "You took it better than most people. I'll give you that. You're fun on drugs, you should do them more."

"Okay, Rue."

••••

"Let's start facing the barre." Our new dance instructor Misses Sharon groveled, standing at the front of the studio. After Mister V's untimely dismissal because of Aurora and her childish attitude, we got a new instructor shortly after and this one is a complete 180. Day one of dealing with the Sharon Bussell — former pro ballerina with countless shows and accolades to back her up. She was the prima ballerina of her time, classified as a certified legend in the dance world.

She was a Prima Ballerina back in her younger days and danced all over the world in every famous hall, taking on some of the most prestigious solos. Girls and boys in the ballet industry dreamed of being – or something even close to – her one day. However, a tragic accident on stage – a horrible misstep – broke her foot causing her to give up her young and famous days of dance. Now she, in her late 50s, teaches – picking out the best and tearing down the rest. I can honestly see what they meant when they said she's nothing to play with. She's strict, like an older white woman running a McDonald's strict, and she's not afraid to call anyone out for their mistakes even for the simplest things — well everyone except Aurora of course.

The class was going well for the first two minutes until Sharon walked by me on the barre and grunted in disapproval.

"Your turnout needs work." she sneered, coming up behind me. "Can I touch you?" she asked and I nodded. Grabbing my hips, she used her feet to push me past one-hundred and eighty degrees to the point where it was almost painful. "You're never going to learn unless you practice like this, every time."

"Got it." I managed to breathe out just barely.

She made a face at me, eyes scanning me up and down for a moment. "How much do you weigh?" she bluntly asked. The question caught me off guard, so much so that I felt myself losing my stance which only made Ms Sharon frown more.

I shrugged my shoulders at her. "I don't know. I haven't weighed myself in a while." I tell her honestly though it was a weird thing to ask. She just stares at me before going back to correct my form. Sharon had her eyes locked on me like a moth to a flame. She spent nearly an hour poking and prodding my every other combination. She praised my port de bras and extensions but chastised my feet and lack of hyperextension. Every muscle in my body was screaming in pain after how hard I exerted myself.

After a while, she finally got tired of me and my lack of comprehension and moved on to another student. Aurora. Her movements were powerful but gracefully silent. Adorned in sweat, she resembled a Greek statue, carved from marble, meticulously crafted and sculpted. Her blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, tumbling to his shoulders. Her brown eyes met mine for only a second, her lips parting into a sly smirk having yet to receive a critique.

"What a show-off." Penelope teased, poking me in the ribs after she had executed four clean and crisp pirouettes.

I chuckled. "Sharon doesn't seem to think so. She hasn't said a word to her all rehearsal."

"Well yeah, because her father signs her checks."

"I didn't say anyone could take a break. Maybe if you spent less time talking you'd be able to lift out that pirouette of yours." Ms Sharon snapped at me, small snickers sounding off throughout the studio as I gawked around him in disbelief that he just said that aloud.

I couldn't even open my mouth to defend myself not like it would've mattered anyway because Ms Sharon could care less and demanded I get back to doing pirouettes. I tried to, but it sent me spiraling off of my leg. I grimaced at my unsightly pirouette and tried again, the next try just as bad as the first.

"Stop!" she clapped and then everyone stopped their movements. The room was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Her sharp grey eyes locked on me. Her aged stare is hard and unnerving. I wanted to crawl into a hole.

"Why can't you get this? I said to lift out of that pirouette, Kylo," she said, her tone harsh and unyielding. "Do it."

"Try it again." She said to me. I aligned my feet in the fourth position but Sharon was already clicking her tongue in disappointment.

"Your weight is too far back on your back foot. You'll never get around with that terrible preparation." She said. I shifted my weight and tried again. This turn my feet intertwined and I found myself tripping over my own two feet and falling right in my face. "Fuck," I winced out on the floor. Ms Sharon looks down at me along with the rest of the class and shakes her head in disappointment. I can see Aurora and friends snickering behind her. "Get up." was all she said before turning around.

"What are you all doing just standing there?" she growled. My fellow dancers hustled into their preparations and began trying their pirouettes out, Sharon critiquing them as she walked around the studio.

••••

I left the dance studio with my limbs barely attached to my body. I'm beyond exhausted and honestly just want to go home, shower, eat, and sleep. Rehearsals usually ended around 5 pm when Mister V was the one instructing us but with Sharon, it was damn near 8 pm when I left the studio. She had me working a nine to five basically. Each step was filled with bone-aching pain that made me wince under my breath. My thighs haven't burned this bad since the time Semaj and I were playing around with body wax and ended up in tears as we had to rip the waxing paper off each other.

After a while, the walking becomes almost therapeutic strangely enough, and walking through the city only helps. The city was simply beautiful, despite the rat infestation, which I'm pretty sure are planning a secret takeover in the near future but I digress. It's not even that late and the street is filled with the laughter and cheers of the people. It's always so lively here, I think that's what I enjoy the most about New York. Walking further down I noticed something in my peripheral vision, a black car not too far behind me. I pay it no mind at first but when I turn a corner and it follows I become a little anxious.

Lord, please not today. Haven't I suffered enough?

My mind begins to race just as fast as my feet. I don't realize I'm practically running until the car starts to accelerate behind me, but not faster than a car. I'm barely faster than a turtle so when the car reaches me and the tinted windows roll down I immediately throw my hands up in defeat, eyes closed tightly as I prepare for something — anything that would surely put an end to me standing right here.

I hear snickering coming from in front of me and when I open my eyes I'm met with a pair of unfamiliar eyes. In the black Rolls Royce in front of me were two men in the driver and passenger seat, and from the tattoos that covered their faces and the suits that clung to their bodies, I could guess who they worked for. "Kylo Johnson?" the driver asked, a curious brow raising at me.

"Who the fuck are you?" I probably shouldn't be cursing at gang members but profanity tends to fly out of my mouth at the worst times and I can't help it. Also, these motherfuckers just gave me a damn near heart attack and now they have the audacity to ask me questions.

"Come with us." The one in the passenger seat says and I can hear the back doors of the Rolls Royce unlock.

I made a face at the men. "What is this witness protection? I'm not getting in the car with you people. I don't even know you."

"Stone sent us," they said and I don't have to think too hard about that name. Of course, it's him. "we're not gonna shoot you." one of them says, a slightly humorous tone in their voice as if anything about this situation was funny.

I folded my arms across my chest, head tiling a bit as I looked at the two men in the front. "If I don't get in the car and tell you two to fuck off will you shoot me then?" I asked them. The men looked between one another before shrugging slightly. "Maybe . . ."

"I respect the honesty." I exhaled a defeated sigh, adjusting my backpack over my shoulder as I reached for the handle of the backseat door.

••••

I reflect on just how normal today was supposed to go. I was supposed to wake up, go to class, grab lunch, go to rehearsal, go home, shower, eat, and then sleep and repeat yet somehow I find myself in the passenger seat of the car with people with guns tucked in the waistband of their pants and cigars tucked between their lips. I don't know where they're taking me and at this point, I've kinda accepted my fate that I'm gonna be sex trafficked or maybe even sold and held captive for ransom which is crazy because who's gonna pay for me? Semaj?

The car entered the Upper Brookville area and we came in front of a large guard gate with the rose engraved into the middle in gold. The driver talked to the guard out front and then entered a passcode into the monitor and the doors swung open immediately. A few yards away sat a house on a hill, but it wasn't until we got closer that I realized it wasn't a house but a mansion.

A lavish Georgian-style mansion at that.

"Woah," I found myself saying aloud, earning a side-eye glance from the men up front. I didn't mean to say it out loud but it's just I've never seen a house so huge in my entire life it's almost eerie how big it is. Me and my mom's little shack back home didn't stand a chance against this place. The car parked at the front entrance of the house which showcases the mansion in all its glory. Large white pillars holding up the second story, large windows scaling the walls giving someone just barely a view inside. Expensiveness oozed from the place from the foundation on the ground to the high roofing in the sky.

It's only when one of the men opens the back door that I'm brought back to reality and the situation at hand. I hop out of the car letting the chill air of dusk hit against my face. I adjust my backpack over my shoulder as I look up at the mansion in front of me. The dark exterior makes it look like something from a scary movie under the setting sun above it.

"He's inside waiting for you." One of the men said, relaxing against the car with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

I send him a slight nod before turning back towards the house. I hesitantly step forward. The double doors of the place are already open as I make my way in. The door shuts abruptly behind me and I nearly jump out of my skin. I turn around so fast my backpack falls from my shoulder but when I look at the door there's no one there.

First gang members now ghosts too? C'mon bruh.

I turn my attention back around to the grand entryway ahead of me. This place is too huge for its own good. I thought it looked intimidating on the outside but the inside is just as eerie. The entire place had a yellow glow to it from the inside like someone had planted candles along the walls but there was not a candle in sight, only the lights from the glass chandelier that hung above us reflecting off the cream-colored walls of the place. The half-landing staircase is far off to the right of the entry hall. Large arched windows above the front door along with skylights in the hall flood the space with light from the moon. There's a rustic almost vintage aesthetic to the place and I don't know if it's on purpose or if this place was just built centuries ago and they never changed the decor. It's like a castle through and through.

"Hello," I called out, and my voice echoed a bit. I walked around the place some more, my steps slowed and drawled. "anyone here?"

I'm in the middle of the foyer again — I think. It's hard to tell where I've been and where I haven't in this maze of a place. I look up at the elegant steps bordered by a detailed bespoke wrought-iron balustrade that only adds to the grand effect of the chandelier and molded ceiling in this grand foyer. But then I hear a noise to my left and my head immediately snaps in that direction. Out of the shadows with an elevated step comes a dog, a Doberman with long limbs and a sleek black coat.

Awe.

I crouched down a bit, my animal lover instincts taking over. "What a cute girl, yes you are!" I cooed at the Doberman, its long head tilting at me slightly. I stepped a little closer and I'm immediately met with a loud bark that sends me on my butt. It's loud and aggressive, the Doberman's canine teeth peeking out from her jaws. It barks again, this time the bark seems to echo around me. It was not until I looked behind me that I noticed the identical Doberman coming out from the other side of the room, fangs glistening in saliva. There's another loud bark and a third Doberman comes out of the shadows joining the others, all three of them surrounding me.

Bitch I'm worried about the gangster these damn dogs are about to take me out.

However before that can happen there's a loud whistle from above, followed by a loud thundering "Sit!" my eyes followed the voice to see Stone making his way down the staircase. He looks different from the last time I saw him. He's cleaner now. A black three-piece suit clung to his body. I don't know who's more scarier him or the dogs. The dogs follow his orders, the three of them sitting down almost immediately. I don't realize I'm still sitting on the floor until he's standing over me.

I push myself up off the ground, dusting myself off. "Where's your beware of dogs sign?" I asked him, trying not to make it obvious I was backing away from him a bit.

"There's nothing to beware," he answers, lips pressing together as he whistles again. The dogs ran towards him, one almost knocking me over from how fast it was. I watch with raised brows at the dogs jump on him. "my girls won't bite," he rubs their heads with his large hands, the dogs seeming to melt under his touch. "unless I tell them to." he finishes.

My eyes bounce between him and three dogs under him, the Dobermans pacing around him like his guards ready to attack anyone who comes near him without permission. "Oh okay," I mumbled under my breath adjusting my backpack over my shoulder.

"You might want to get comfortable with them since you're gonna be dog-sitting them today." He bluntly says and my eyes grow wide.

"Dog sitting them?!"

Stone walks over to a corner of the room and grabs three leashes off a hanger before he makes his way back over to me. He looks down at me with the collars in his hands, face still unreadable and cold. He slams them down in my hand, my balance failing me a bit from the heaviness of his hand plus the dog walking equipment.

"You really want me to watch your dogs?" I raised a brow at him.

He makes a face, broad shoulders shrugging slightly. "For now, yes." he turns on his designer loafers about to head up the steps again.

"B-but I don't even know their names," I call out to him.

"That's Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup." He points at the dogs who ran around the foyer chasing one another like I could tell them apart. "Did you seriously name your dogs after the Powerpuff Girls?" I asked aloud but he didn't answer and continued up the stairs.

"Where are you going? You can't just leave me down here with them!"

"I have stuff to handle. Figure it out," he says not even bothering to look back at me. "and FYI when you take them for a walk — Bubbles likes to chase the squirrels outside. She's a runner." he simply said before disappearing on the second floor.

What the actual fuck?

••••

EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES OR ERRORS

Here's Stone's house aka Bellerose Manor aka Kylo's personal hell

Could you live here for six months alone? No phone, no WiFi, no nothing, just you and the three dogs. I could I would just read books I guess lol.