Dearest Protector

Dearest Protector Copyright © 2023 by J.S. Scott All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission. ISBN: 979-8-399956-26-8 (Print) ISBN: 978-1-959932-05-5 (E-Book) Contents Prologue Prologue #2 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Epilogue Prologue Ariel New York City Ten Months Earlier… I was exhausted but still running on pure adrenaline as I hurried down a familiar New York City street toward my destination. I didn’t slow down to admire the beauty of the big city lights at night. I didn’t look at all of the people around me who were rushing to their own locations. I never did. I was working, and nothing else interfered with my focus when my attention was on advancing in my career. My fixation on being the best ballet dancer I could be was the only thing that had gotten me this far. “Dammit! I’m late! But I’m nearly there,” I grumbled unhappily under my breath as I stopped at the corner, waiting impatiently until it was safe to cross the street. I looked across the busy thoroughfare, relieved to see my final destination ahead of me. I lived and breathed on a very rigid schedule with zero flexibility, so running behind probably upset me more than most people. My daily planner notebook kept me on track, but this particular late-night afterparty hadn’t exactly been planned way in advance, unlike all my usual work-related activities. An unplanned event like this one had thrown me off balance, and I was completely wired when all I wanted to do was to wind down. Really, all I’d wanted to do after my very first performance as a principal dancer in Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake was to go home, ice my feet, and then sink into a warm bath. Unfortunately, that idea was a no-go since I’d been invited to a small gathering at a swanky club that was being hosted by one of the ballet’s largest donors. It was mandatory that I attend since it was a very large donor hosting the party, and he’d specifically asked for me to be present since I was a principal dancer. To say I wasn’t a party girl was an understatement. Maybe I was young, but I felt like I’d been born an adult. In fact, I couldn’t ever remember being a carefree child. I’d started studying ballet at four years old. I’d never really had much of a choice back then since my mother had been a ballet dancer here in New York, too, and she’d wanted the same for me. She’d been insistent that I’d needed to start as early as possible. I’d joined my dance studio’s professional company at the age of eleven, and after that, all I could remember doing was dancing and making sure my grades stayed up in school. The day I’d been offered a scholarship to attend one of the most prestigious ballet schools in the country had made it worth all of my hard work over the years. I’d packed my stuff and moved to New York from Florida right after my graduation from high school. I’d grinded hard since I’d made that move years ago, but I’d finally become a principal dancer. I just did something tonight that I’ve dreamed about my entire life. I let out a sigh of pure joy. My heart was soaring, even though my mind and body were completely wasted. I tapped my foot as I peered at my watch, my euphoria fading just a little as I started to stress over being fifteen minutes off schedule. Maybe I’ll catch a break and be able to slip into the club without anyone noticing. It wasn’t that I minded being nice to donors, but dancing the principal and dual role of Odette and Odile this evening had been mentally and physically draining. Maybe I was still flying high because dancing that particular role had been a dream of mine for a very long time. Really, wasn’t that nearly every young ballerina’s dream? Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the forward movement of someone else who was waiting to cross the street. As freaked out as I was about lagging behind, that small motion was all it took to send me on a mad dash to get across the street and into the club so I wasn’t any later than I was already. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t notice that the person moving forward suddenly stopped. In fact, I never noticed my mistake at all. I never had time. Almost instantly, I was slammed by some massive force that sent me flying up into the air. Pain ripped through my entire body as I finally crash-landed hard on the cement. I felt one more agonizing sensation tearing across my foot, and then for a moment, it felt like the whole world just…stopped. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was held immobile and insensible by the most agonizing pain I’d ever experienced. Breathe, Ariel. Breathe. Trying to focus, I sucked air into my oxygen-deprived lungs and then let it out. I kept taking those excruciating breaths because I knew I had to, but every single one was more torturous than the one before it. Why can’t I see anything? I panicked because my vision was blurry. I kept blinking, but the ugly cloud over my eyesight didn’t clear. What in the hell just happened to me? I fought the rising darkness, something I probably should have welcomed because it would take the pain away. But I