The Price {Completed}

Chapter Eight

"Stop! He's done nothing wrong!" I lashed out with my foot, catching Mr. Lennox's leg with my kick. With his cane in his hand, he had nothing to stabilize himself with. He toppled forward with a grunt and staggered a few feet before catching his balance and straightening up.

"I said to stay out of it!" he growled, ripping my head up and staring me in the eyes. "I will not tolerate such disobedience!"

With a jerk, he flung me to one side where I skidded across the floor and farther away from Ferdinand. I scrambled to my feet as Mr. Lennox raised his cane again and continued the rain of beatings. Ferdinand rolled into a protective ball, his arms over his head and his legs pulled to his chest. I launched forward, trying to shove Mr. Lennox to one side, but he was ready for my attempts to push him away. He stood like a heavy pillar and I could only struggle with him to remove his cane. He shouted in anger and shoved me again, this time with the tip of the cane. I gasped as the point drove into my stomach, and fell to the ground as I gasped for breath.

The girls in the corps, now seeing what was transpiring, screamed. This drew the attention of some of the bolder audience members, who then exited their seats and climbed behind the curtain to see what could possibly be cheating them out of the price of their tickets and causing this kind of ruckus.

It was the prospect of them discovering him beating the star of the Rumonin National that finally stayed Mr. Lennox's hand. He halted with his cane hovering over Ferdinand, breathing heavy and flushed entirely red. I choked back tears as I crawled forward, reaching for Ferdinand. My fingers brushed his leg, but I could get no farther before Mr. Lennox reached down and snatched my collar.

"We're going home. Refund them whatever they want," Mr. Lennox said to no one in particular, and hauled me to my feet.

He walked too fast for me, and I stumbled and tripped toward the backdoor in my blocky slippers. The corps girls followed after us, but after sensing the heat coming from Mr. Lennox they decided better and hung back. They'd be returning to their rooms late tonight, probably after gathering all the gossip they could on what had happened.

Mr. Lennox kicked open the stage door and the frigid night air spilled across my soaked cheeks. As he forced me over the threshold, I managed to twist my head around to look back one last time into the darkened interior. One of the finely dressed audience members practically hauled Ferdinand into a sitting position, and I only caught a glance of Ferdinand's face covered in crimson blood and staring after us silently, before I was forced down the steps.

Mr. Lennox hauled me to the street and hailed a passing carriage. He shoved a handful of bills at the driver and told him the address to our boarding house before shoving me into the interior and following me closely. He sat on one side and I the other as the carriage lurched into motion. I shook under my suppressed sobs and pressed up against the side of the carriage, my legs pulled into my chest and my hands crossed over my heart. I want to scream and curse at him, but I had no energy left. I could only let the tears fall and replay the image of Ferdinand's bloody face left in my cursed wake.

Mr. Lennox ignored me, staring out the window instead. He breathed through his nose and gripped his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. I tried not to stare too closely at the blood dripping down the wooden shaft.

When we reached our destination, Mr. Lennox shoved me up the stairs and to our room with the same roughness that he had at the theater. He tossed me so hard at my bed that I slid and lost my footing. My hand slammed down on the metal edge of the footboard and my head bounced painfully against the wood. I felt blood pooling in my palm and the taste of copper in my mouth, but I couldn't worry about it as Mr. Lennox loomed over me.

When he spoke, his voice was calm and measured—at direct odds with the white flames that burned behind his eyes. "Class tomorrow before dawn." With that he turned on his heel and exited the room. The door slammed behind him and the sound of the key thunking the locks into place echoed in my ears.

Alone in the resulting silence, I finally felt the throbbing pain in my head and hand, and looked down to see a deep gash across the palm. I stared at the river of red that ran down my arm, knowing it was nothing compared to what Ferdinand would be dealing with. I couldn't even make sense of what had happened. It had all been so lovely, and then suddenly turned so wrong. The violence and anger in Mr. Lennox seemed to come from nowhere. He had never been a loving man, but this was not something I'd ever seen before. It shook me to the core.

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The next night I danced the Funeral Dance again. I had not expected Ferdinand to be there, but he was. I felt my heart leap into my mouth at the distant sight of him as I climbed the stage steps, but he quickly looked away as the music started. A coldness seeped from him, and I knew that he did not want to repeat the events of last night. So I danced to perfection. Each step was exactly as it should be, and my emotions were deadened into submission. Ferdinand, though barely able to make it even through a simple turn, partnered me despite his obvious broken ribs when he tried to lift me. We finished to the tepid applause of an audience who came to see if they might witness something like the people of last night did. They were disappointed, though, for as soon as the music died, Ferdinand and I stepped off the stage and the corps girls replaced us, carrying the ballet on.

Ferdinand stood a few feet away, watching the girls dance as he caught his breath and cradled his ribs with a bruised hand. I couldn't help but stare at his face as I took my veil off and saw him up close for the first time since last night. His lace mask did little to disguise the large black bruises that spotted his face. One eye was swollen into a slit and his nose looked bent. Deep ridges covered over in forming scabs ran in crisscross fashion across his face, neck, and torso, and his bottom lip was split. I quickly looked away before he caught me staring, and ran back to the practice rooms where I buried my face in the skirts of my costumes in order to hide the screams that tore through my throat.

The door clicked open and I looked up to see Mr. Lennox walking toward me.

"I came to let you know that you were perfect," he said. He grabbed a chair and brought it to sit next to me.

"Why wouldn't I be? I've been practicing all morning," I replied flatly, not able or willing to give him any of the tumultuous emotions that boiled in my chest.

"And that is exactly as it should be. Do you not realize that you cannot dance if you have anything else competing for attention in your mind? If you become attached to some outsider who has barely spoken a word to you, then you cannot possibly move forward. What does this boy have to offer you? Superficial pleasures until he decides to leave and pursue his own career in some inferior company, leaving you with tainted memories and a heart too damaged to be taught anything? Nadia, I have been sculpting you tirelessly since you were a child. You have perfection inside of you, but I cannot extract it if you won't let me."

I looked away from him and into the mirror where I was greeted by my shockingly pale face. Mr. Lennox loomed behind me like a gargoyle guarding a frigid cemetery, his hands resting on my shoulders and his voice rasping in my ear.

"If you want to dance beyond anything imagined, then you can only need me," he said. "No one else should matter."

A clean slice of pain cut through my heart and a single tear fell from my eye to slowly slide down my cheek. Mr. Lennox ran his finger over it, catching the drop and bringing it to his mouth where he licked it from his skin.