Dancing with a stranger

Chapter |6✨

I grabbed my chest, trying to slow my racing heartbeat. My father had warned me—people were out looking for him, and now me too. The tension in the car pressed down like a physical weight, silence stretching between us like thick fog. My body shook, 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 stop asking myself why he was helping me. Why?

Finally, I managed to croak, "Where are you taking me?"

Without a word, he buckled my seatbelt for me. His fingers brushed my skin. A jolt ran through me, sharp and confusing, but I shoved it aside.

"Why... why are you doing this?" I whispered, more to myself than to him. "You know my father and your father despise each other."

Kian's eyes stayed on the road, calm, unreadable. "Yes. But I'm taking you home. Your father isn't there. We keep tabs on one another."

I blinked. My father wasn't home. And Kian... had just shot someone to protect me. My stomach knotted tighter.

I groaned, leaning back, eyes closed. My muscles felt like lead, the adrenaline giving way to exhaustion. Everything—my father's dangerous world, the gym, the shooting—was catching up to me.

The hum of the car became a strange lullaby, but my mind refused to quiet. The man lying on the pavement, motionless, replayed over and over. I should have been more careful. More aware.

Kian said nothing more, and I didn't push him. The air between us was thick, unyielding. Eventually, the steady rhythm of tires against asphalt lulled me into a restless, uneasy sleep.

⸻

When I woke, someone was carrying me. I couldn't remember anything after that.

I came to in a familiar place—Grace, sound asleep beside me. I got up quietly and went straight to the shower, the hot water scalding my skin, trying to burn away the lingering panic.

Grace leaned against the doorframe when I emerged, grinning—not mischievous, but knowing. "Talk," she said, voice firm, almost a command.

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "Okay, okay. It's nothing huge. I went to the gym with Ashton... then my dad warned me about people after him. And Kian... he shot someone who was about to hurt me. I was too freaked out to think straight, and then... you ended up letting him in and carrying me to safety."

Grace's eyebrows shot up. "Yes, I did," she said, tossing the blanket off herself. "He told me to watch over you. That's why I stayed."

I rubbed my face, exhaling. "I just... I don't know anymore."

She stretched and grinned. "Well, we both need rest. Let's take it easy today."

I grabbed a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, pouring milk over it like I hadn't eaten in days. By the time I finished, Grace had gone to work, and I found myself flipping through channels, bored out of my mind.

Then my phone buzzed. I picked it up without looking.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweetie," my father's voice came through, calm but urgent. "I'm in a meeting, but when I get home, we need another one. A serious one—with some associates."

"Okay... love you. See you soon."

I hung up, unease settling in my chest. Meetings with associates weren't casual. Whatever this was, it mattered.

⸻

A few hours later, I stepped into my father's office. The Red Rider gang sat scattered around the room, all serious, all watching. My father stood at the head of the table, eyes hard and calculating.

I couldn't resist. "Why am I in this meeting?"

"Listen carefully, sweetie," he said, cold and measured.

I rolled my eyes, sensing the tension building, but before I could speak, he continued. "I've arranged a deal with Mr. Everett. You are to marry his son, Steele. It's good for business. I have a lot riding on this."

The words didn't register at first. "What?!" My voice cracked, disbelief laced with anger. "I don't even know him! You can't make me!"

"Sweetie, yes, I can," he said, smirking, utterly unbothered. He waved me off, dismissing me like I was nothing. "Now leave. We have other matters."

I stood frozen, stomach twisting, heart pounding. Betrayal, anger, fear—they all collided inside me. I collapsed onto my bed later, tears burning, feeling the suffocating weight of powerlessness.

⸻

Downstairs, my father sat calmly at the table, eating a sandwich as if nothing had changed.

"Hello, sweetie," he said, barely glancing at me. "We're going to Mr. Everett's on Saturday. You'll meet your soon-to-be fiancé."

My stomach twisted. I slammed the fridge shut in frustration, but he didn't flinch. I stormed back upstairs, collapsing onto my bed, too angry, too hurt, too exhausted to care about anything—even food