12
In the next few days, they booked Isis for promotional photoshoots, and she spent time with her new friend Candy. Any other time she stayed close to Cyrus or Wraith. The least amount of time with Gage the better, or at least she thought. He hadn’t protested her being with Wraith in text messages. Maybe Gage had forgotten some of what he said in his night of drunken stupor. She felt she found her place of solitude with her cousins and a new friend.
When they reached the next town for a house show, she was feeling a little better. Wraith took her to the arena on his bike. Riding with him always made her feel better about things. He could tell there was something she was hiding, but she wasn’t open to talking. When she was ready, she would.
Isis thought maybe Gage was just trying to show off to the new girl on this first day by pushing his authority around. But he hurt her deeply. She didn’t even want to see him again. Isis managed a short meeting with Davis, begging him to let her out of Justice. The boss told her that for her to be there at all, Gage held all the cards. Her career was in his hands until he changed things. It was the agreement he had made to get the ball rolling.
Isis got in her gym gear and went down to the ring to run the ropes. She thought a little practice with new moves would get out some aggression. After about an hour, she felt someone watching her. Looking around the empty stadium, she tried to catch her breath from her heavy workout.
At the top of the stage, there he was. Gage stood in a t-shirt, jeans, and his long hair loose around his face. Arms crossed over his chest; she could see the veins protruding over the bulge of his biceps. As he headed to the ring, her heart pounded in her chest. They were alone, and she didn’t like it one bit.
“You need to tuck your head a little more on those bumps. You’ll break your neck that way.”
He jumped up on the ring mat, seemingly calmer than she had last seen him. Still a little aggressive to his tone, Isis said nothing and continued working on bumps.
“Good, that’s better. Hit a little harder. Show some intensity.”
She stopped and stood from the mat. Glaring at him, she didn’t say a word. The look was enough for him to see Isis was not interested in his advice or his presence. She attempted to jump from the ring, and he caught her arm.
“I’m sorry about the night at the club. I drank a little too much. I was a jerk.”
“That was not a normal club. It was a strip club, and it made me extremely uncomfortable. I’m not a stripper. I’m scared of those places. I’m a professionally trained dancer. There’s a huge difference.”
Isis looked down, picking at her fingertips, yet not pulling from his grip. She knew it would do no good, anyway. Gage was stronger, and he already made her see he would make her pay for defying him.
“Well then, prove it. Dance.” He jumped down from the mat and motioned for her to go ahead.
“I can’t.”
“Then you’re full of shit and you're a glorified stripper. You say you’re a dancer. Prove it,” he said smugly.
She let out a breath of frustration. Shaking her head, Isis went to the center of the ring and took off her shoes. Throwing them to the side of the ring, she pulled her dance shoes from the bag. One tennis shoe she purposefully chucked toward his head, and he ducked.
He just chuckled, knowing he was annoying her. It gave him a little sick joy to get a rise out of her.
Isis took a deep breath and closed her eyes while going to the center of the ring. She went into her hardest ballet dance poses and stood on ballet pointe for what seemed like forever, then changing the position to an arabesque. In ballet pointe once more, she stood holding the pose as long as she could tolerate. She had to prove to him she was a dancer.
When she went to do a ballerina spin, starting at one side of the ring post, he was watching in awe. She took a second to gather her composure and leaped into a grand jete. Leaping from one side to the other with great height and poise. Isis stopped and grabbed the ring belt catty-corner from where she started with her back turned to Gage.
Her head dropped, feeling as if it was as much weight as the feeling in her heart. She felt so broken.
He nodded his head in approval. “Wow, Isis. That was so beautiful. That’s amazing. How did you learn to do that?”
“It sure as hell wasn’t in a strip club shaking my ass for money. I started dancing not long after Cyrus started at IWX. He paid for my lessons. He tried to help me out of my depression and shyness. Other kids bullied me a lot when I was younger. He helped me get some of my self-esteem back. You ruined that in one night,” she said with a sigh, standing with her arms around her waist and her head held down in defeat.
Gage jumped up on the mat and got in the ring behind her. “You shouldn’t hold your head down so much. You’re beautiful. Hold your head up.”
Gage turned her to face him. Taking his hand, he lifted her chin so he could see her big, sad eyes. A pang of guilt hit him as he looked at how broken she seemed. With a heavy sigh, he wiped away a tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye, rolling down her rosy, flushed cheeks.
Her porcelain skin and the way she danced reminded him of an antique jewelry box his grandmother had with the dancing ballerina inside. He wished he could put her in a box and tuck her away. Keeping her for just himself. Only taking her out in private to view her beauty as the finest piece of art, only meant for him.
“Why should I? I have nothing to hold my head up for. Do I? Just a rookie. I have to learn my place, right?” She pushed away his hand and started gathering up her things. “Is there anything else? Or am I dismissed... Sir?”
Gage shook his head. Sir? The word sent a shiver down his spine. How he longed to have her at his command, saying those words in the privacy of his bed.
“Go.”
She started up the ramp, and he stopped her.
“Oh! Hey, Isis. Don’t hide behind Wraith. I told you to be by my side. He’s a good friend, but this is not about him.”
She stopped and walked back to the ring, asking, “Why do you hate me so much? From the start, you haven’t even given me a chance. Why don’t you just let me go? Fire me. Something. But stop torturing me.”
Gage jumped down from the mat fast, pulling her to him. The heat radiating between them seemed different at that moment. Isis held her breath as his lips moved closer to her earlobe as he spoke.
“This isn’t torture, sweet Isis. I can show you torture. Sweet... slow... beautiful torture you would beg me for. You know, there is a fine line between pleasure and pain.”
His lips almost grazed hers when he pulled his head back to look at her. The tension made the energy between them almost electric.
“What you did to me in that club. Why?” She tried to break free from him and his grip tightened.
“You will learn to submit. Stop trying to be in control all the time. I had to show you who’s in charge here. I'm the one who holds the control, so you don’t have to.”
His arms wrapped around her body, holding Isis tight against his chest.
She felt perfect in his arms. It felt like her body was made for him, and him alone.
Gage shuttered, realizing he was becoming aroused being so close to her. Backing away, his hands flexed as they dropped to his hips. Looking away, he took a deep breath to compose himself, trying desperately to suppress his urges. He took a slow breath, knowing another second with her in his arms he would lose control. He would have her pressed against the ring, taking her lips and claiming her as his own. His body was fighting a losing battle, and the primal need would eventually outweigh any rational thought.
Before he lost his will, he said, “Go — now.”
She walked up the ramp, afraid to look back. At the top of the stage, before exiting through the curtains, she stopped. Closing her eyes, she could still feel the warmth of his embrace. His arms. Why did it feel so good when she wanted to hate him so much?
“I don’t hear footsteps up that ramp, Isis. Go!”
His gruff voice rumbled over the empty arena. The intensity of it made her shiver once more. Isis pulled her gym bag close to her chest and rushed away, not looking back. If she did, she knew she would run right back into his arms, begging for more.












