Read Online Boston Avant-Garde 5: Bellicoso by Kaitlin Maitland - Free Book Online Page B

hadn’t expected to ever need the thing again. It had been nearly two and half years since she’d even thought about it.
    “Where the hell have you been?”
    Selena didn’t bother backing out of the closet. Her older sister could damn well wait for a response. The question was rhetorical anyway. Finally, Selena felt her fingers brush a corner of the canvas tote. Elated without knowing why, she dragged it through a hole between two roller bags.
    “Seriously, Selena, Mama called me two days ago to ask if I’d seen you in the last couple of weeks.” Desiree had on one of her bossy expressions, but Selena ignored her. “Weeks! You don’t bother to come home for weeks, and then you show up out of the blue without even saying a word? What is wrong with you?”
    Selena barely spared her sister a glance. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
    The bag was more familiar than anything else in Selena’s life. She’d carried it to and from rehearsals and practice sessions for years. Mom had bought the bag when Selena was only ten. By then she’d outgrown the pretty pink one she’d used every day since she’d starting dancing at age three.
    Selena could still remember how grown-up and special she’d felt the first time she’d carried the black tote into the dressing room. All the older girls had one—the girls who danced in the company productions, the ones who showed “promise” and were “going places.” Selena had wanted so badly to be just like them.
    That dream had sustained her throughout her existence as a spoiled society princess. It had provided discipline and structure in a life that offered nothing but endless pampering and indulgence. That kind of preferential treatment had made her a bug under everyone’s microscope. When she’d danced, her hard work counted for something. Until the moment her own mother had popped Selena’s aspirations like delicate soap bubbles.
    “Earth to Selena, are you even listening to me?”
    “Not really, but you’re welcome to continue talking at me.” Selena gazed up at her sister and gave her a cynical grin guaranteed to drive Desiree crazy.
    Desiree’s designer blouse, jacket, and pencil skirt looked way too put together for an impromptu confrontation. Selena wondered what was really going on.
    Her sister sighed and took a deep breath as if she was trying to calm down. “Look, what Jackson did was wrong. We all know that. But you can’t let it ruin your life like this. Can you just come downstairs and talk about it?”
    A rather distasteful possibility began to take shape in Selena’s mind. “Are there other people down there waiting?”
    “Could you just come downstairs?”
    Selena knew she shouldn’t have returned to their family’s Brookline estate. Lately she’d been staying at her friend Mattie’s place. The last few months had taught Selena that all the crap she’d once thought so important in life didn’t matter much in the end. She’d only come home for the dance bag because of what had happened at Triptych.
    Because of Malachi.
    The memory of his slate-gray gaze made her shiver. Desiree was still lecturing, but Selena tuned her out. Looping her tote over one shoulder, she followed her sister, fully intending to duck out at the first opportunity.
    “There you are, darling.”
    Selena froze on the sweeping staircase, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the railing. She hadn’t expected her mother to be waiting in the foyer. Annaline Aasen was dressed to take the city by storm, even while hanging out at home. Her pale blonde hair was impeccably styled, her silk dress and jacket combo freshly pressed.
    Selena became suddenly, painfully aware of her own rumpled jeans, T-shirt, and messy ponytail. Six months ago she wouldn’t have been caught dead in anything but designer clothes with perfect hair and makeup.
    Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
    “I had no idea you guys were having a family meeting.” Selena figured