Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(14)

Nausea roils again.

“You and Baylee were doing cocaine,” Dimitri suddenly says, as though he’s been concocting this during the entire meeting.

I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“Yeah, you did coke.” Dimitri nods, really believing this is a good idea. “I caught you in the costume department snorting drugs together. You’ve been enabling one another—it’s why the company wants you to lose contact. You’ve been demoted because you broke the Wellness Policy.” He laughs. “Fucking brilliant.” Nodding to Nik, he says, “I can spread this like wildfire.”

I don’t have to ask why he chose cocaine.

A few of my cousins have been suspended for it. Our profession relies on our bodies, and at times, our jobs are physically painful. Even when we’re in supreme physical condition.

Stimulants, especially cocaine, can offer a high that not only alleviates pain but makes performing…electric.

I don’t know from experience. I’ve never tried cocaine. Mostly because I fear Nikolai’s disappointment, and I risk a lot—but I couldn’t risk using drugs.

“Hey…” I sluggishly pick myself up. “Can you at least make it seem like it was my fault, not hers?” If anyone blasts her for this lie…

“I’ll try.”

Nik starts walking away, but he glances over his shoulder, ensuring that I follow. “Let’s go home.”

He never asks if I’m okay. Maybe because it’s obvious that I’m not. I’m reaping the consequences and taking responsibility for my mistake.

But the price I paid feels gut-wrenchingly high. And as I leave the offices, a realization hammers inside of me like steel to bone. I will always wonder if we chose wrong. If we chose right.

I will always return to today and contemplate my one choice. I already feel it tormenting me.

And suddenly, I think…

I wish we weren’t given a choice at all.





Act Four

1 Year Ago – Las Vegas Luka Kotova




Second meeting with Marc Duval.

I’m nineteen. I’ve lost the ability to fear him. I’m not terrified of being fired. Not even nervous. In over three years, Aerial Ethereal buried me so far down the roster that I’m surprised they even remember to print my name on the program.

I have one source of disdain in my life. Just one.

It’s at him. At Corporate.

Marc sips from his Aerial Ethereal mug while I sit across his desk. “If this is about what I think it is,” he says, “you can leave. You’re lucky I’m even entertaining this.” He has no name for our spontaneous meeting. I didn’t schedule one.

He didn’t call me in to chat.

I heard he was in the Vegas office, and I stormed assuredly through the door with four words. We need to talk.

“It’s been three and a half years.” I sit on the edge of the chair. “We’ve obeyed every demand you made. We never texted each other. I haven’t even looked at her face.” It’s been hard. Almost impossible.

But the last memory I have of Baylee is us…being caught behind a costume rack. And then her aunt blocking her from my view.

Marc just stares at me like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

I add, “No one thinks we hooked up in the past. They all think we were caught doing drugs.” And Dimitri doesn’t lie to family. Never has, and never will again. “They’re not going to draw the conclusion that we broke a rule and you offered us our jobs back…” I trail off at the heat in his eyes. “Come on.”

“Let go of her.”

I blink slowly, weight mounting on me. I can’t accept it yet. “I’m not asking to date Baylee. I’d like to speak to her.” I sit forward again. “Her eighteenth birthday was yesterday. I just want to wish her a happy birthday and know that you won’t enforce the no minors policy.”

(Please.)

Marc shakes his head. “It’s not happening. You’re not being rewarded for honoring a contract that you have to follow.”

“Can I send her a card?” I try.

“And what does that do? Other than open the floodgates to a friendship that you can’t have?” Marc actually rolls his eyes in exasperation. “This is exactly why I told you make certain you were sure of your choice…”

I tune him out.

Every day I question what I chose.

Every day of my life I wonder what my world would look like with her in it, but without the circus. Without my family.

I wonder. I question. And there is no answer.

Either way, we’d lose something insurmountable. Either way, I’d be grappling with the same grief I do now.

I catch the tail-end of his lecture as he asks, “Do you even know what you’re fighting for?”

(Love.)

Marc says, “I’m going to do you a favor and help you understand so you can let go.”

(Don’t.)

“You’re fighting for an adolescent fling from nearly four years ago.”

I instantly shake my head.

“No? You’re saying that you still love each other? You’re saying that after years of silence, you truly think you’re the same people you once were? That the juvenile feelings you experienced still exist in some capacity? Luka,” he says, contempt coating my name, “grow up.”