Dancing with a stranger

Chapter |6✨

I grabbed my chest and started breathing heavily and freaking out because I should have been watching out like my father said that he had people out looking for him. The tension in the car was palpable, the silence stretching between us like a thick fog. I couldn't stop shaking, my body still trying to process everything that had just happened. Kian's grip on my arm as he pulled me toward the car felt almost possessive, and I couldn't help but wonder why he was doing all of this. Why was he helping me?

I finally managed to ask, my voice unsteady, "Where are you taking me?"

Without a word, he buckled my seatbelt for me. His fingers brushed against my skin as he did, sending a strange jolt through me. I couldn't focus on that, though—not with everything that had just unfolded.

I swallowed hard, trying to make sense of my emotions, trying to stop myself from falling apart. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, more to myself than to him, but the words came out anyway. "You know my father and your father despise each other."

Kian's eyes remained fixed on the road as he drove, the city lights flashing by. His voice was low, almost neutral. "Yes, I know. But I'm taking you to your house. Your father isn't home either. We keep tabs on one another."

I blinked, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. My father wasn't home. Kian had just... shot someone for me. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. This was all too much, too fast.

I groaned, sinking back into the seat and closing my eyes for a moment. The exhaustion from everything—my father's dangerous world, the gym, the shooting—was catching up with me. I felt like my body was made of lead.

As the minutes passed, the car's steady hum became a kind of lullaby, but my mind refused to let me relax. The image of the man lying motionless on the ground kept flashing in my mind. I should've been more aware, more careful. My father had warned me about people coming after him, but I had been too distracted, too numb to notice.

Kian didn't say anything else, and I didn't push him. The tension in the air was thick, the kind of tension I couldn't escape even if I tried. Despite everything, despite my mind spinning with confusion and fear, I eventually drifted off to sleep, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road lulling me into a restless, uneasy slumber.

I felt the car stop and somebody picks me up and was carrying me somewhere. I don't remember anything after that.

I awakened up to grace, laying next to me sound asleep and I got up and went into the bathroom to hop in the shower.

She grinned, not with mischief but with that knowing, irritating grin. "Talk," she said, almost as if it was a command.

I groaned and flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Okay, okay. It's nothing, really. I went to the gym with Ashton, but then my dad warned me about people coming after him. And of course, Kian was there. He shot someone who was about to hurt me, and I... I was just too tired, too freaked out to think straight. Then, I guess Kian messaged you, and you ended up letting him in and carrying me to safety."

Grace's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Yes, he did," she said, throwing the blanket off her body. "Told me to keep an eye on you. That's why I stayed in here with you last night."

I sighed and rubbed my face. "I'm just... I don't know anymore."

She stood up and stretched, looking at me with a bit of a grin. "Well, we both need a little rest. Let's just take it easy today." She walked downstairs, and I followed her, grabbing my favorite cereal, Fruity Pebbles, and dumping two bowls into a glass of milk. By the time I was done, I was still ravenous, feeling like I hadn't eaten in days.

Grace went to work, and I found myself flipping through channels, bored out of my mind. Then the buzz of my phone jolted me out of my stupor. I picked it up without even looking at the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweetie," my dad's voice came through, casual but with a hint of urgency. "I'm in a meeting right now, but when I get home, we need to have another one. It'll be with a few of my associates."

"Okay, Dad, love you. See you soon."

I ended the call, feeling uneasy. Meetings were rare, especially with the people my dad associated with. He never let me be part of them unless it was serious. I decided I had better get ready—whatever this was, it was going to be important.

A couple of hours later, I found myself walking into my father's office. The Red Rider gang was sitting there, their members scattered around the room, all looking serious. My father stood at the head of the table, a hard look in his eyes.

I couldn't help it—I had to ask. "Why do I get to be in this meeting?"

My father looked up at me with his usual cold expression. "Listen very carefully, sweetie."

I rolled my eyes, already sensing the tension building. But when I opened my mouth to respond, he cut me off, his next words sending a chill down my spine.

"I've worked out a deal with Mr. Everett here, an arrangement. We want you to marry his son, Steele. It's good for business. I have a lot riding on this."

The words didn't register at first. I stared at him, my mind trying to process what he had just said. "What?! I don't want to marry someone I don't even know! You can't make me do that!" My voice raised, filled with anger and disbelief.

"Sweetie, yes, I can," he smirked, clearly unbothered by my outburst. He waved me away, dismissing me like an afterthought. "Now, you may leave. We have other matters to discuss."

I stood there for a moment, stunned, before I stormed out of the room, my heart pounding. I didn't even know what to feel—betrayed, angry, scared? I collapsed onto my bed, tears burning at the back of my eyes. How could he do this to me? He couldn't make me marry someone, could he?

The thoughts swirled, relentless. And yet, my exhaustion overtook me. I cried into my pillow, frustration and confusion mixing into a suffocating feeling. I didn't know what was real anymore.

I made my way downstairs to get something to eat, trying to push my emotions aside. My father was sitting at the table, eating a sandwich as if nothing had changed.

"Hello, sweetie," he said, barely looking up from his computer. "Before I forget, we're going to Mr. Everett's on Saturday for a party so you can meet your soon-to-be fiancé."

The mention of Steele's name made my stomach twist. I slammed the fridge door shut in frustration, but my father didn't even flinch. I stormed back upstairs and threw myself on my bed, refusing to eat, too angry and hurt to care.