With the dance teacher snapping at her heels and the threat of being denied further training looming over her head, Scarlet attempts to perfect what has become her greatest down fall-ballet. Just when she's ready to give up, a mysterious stranger comes to her aid, promising help she can find nowhere else. He has only one stipulation . . . she can never know who he is. With the heat of his eyes burning into her everywhere she goes, Scarlet finds herself in need of making a decision. Will she risk the unknown? Can she dance with the devil?
Sneak peak
The truth was, I had no idea who he was. His voice was vaguely recognizable, but it sounded like he was talking low on purpose, trying to disguise how his voice really sounded. I couldn’t see him at all, so that option of recognition was completely out. I could just reach up and turn the lights on, but I was afraid of what he would do if I did.
“You were injured worse than I thought,” he mused, feeling around the bones with his fingertips. “We won’t be able to dance tonight like I’d hoped.”
“Who are you?” I asked again. “Why do you want to help me?”
“You can call me Sir,” he said gruffly, moving away from me. “I know what it’s like to want something and have it just out of reach. You work hard, but you’re missing some core fundamentals. I can help you, but there will be rules.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “How—”
“You must do whatever I say,” he interrupted me. “No questions. We will work in the dark every time we meet. And you are never to know who I am.”
“That seems a bit ridiculous,” I argued, standing up again, but staying against the wall.
“Those are my conditions,” he said simply. “If you don’t like them, you can leave now and never think about this again. Otherwise, refer to rule number one.”
I stood there, mouth gaping, as his words sunk in. What on Earth was going on?!
“Why should I trust you?” I finally said.
“Like I said, you’re working hard. But it isn’t enough and you know it. If you want to succeed, I am the only chance you have. Otherwise, you’ll keep practicing wrong and be stuck right where you are now. Or worse, you could snap that ankle with all the exertion you’ve been putting it through.”
“And if I agree . . . Sir?” I asked hesitantly, hearing the wisdom in his words.
“We’ll meet back here in a week, when your body can fully handle what I have in store for it. You’ll do only what is necessary in your classes to avoid further injury. Every night, you’ll wrap your ankle and sleep with it elevated. Most importantly, you will tell no one else of our meetings. Only your roommate can know, since you already told her.”
“How did you know I to—”
“No questions,” he demanded, cutting me off again. “Do we have a deal or not?”
I clamped my mouth shut, having the sneaking suspicion that I would get shot down again if I tried to ask any more questions. What he said was true; he could be the only option for help I had left. He also seemed to know how to take care of my injury, so it would probably be wise to heed his words. But to let him boss me around in the dark? To let him refuse to reveal himself? I didn’t know if that was exactly what I wanted.
It was then that a tiny silver lining appeared in my mind. If I agreed, maybe, over time, I could figure out who he really was. The more time we spent together, the more likely I was to reveal him. For whatever reason, that seemed hugely appealing to me at the moment.
“We have a deal, Sir,” I finally breathed out, feeling a blood rush of excitement and terror as the words left my mouth.
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