Honorable Disgrace

by Stephanie N. Pitman

  Angie Adams joins the powerlifting team her junior year, but she has more in mind than just toning up—like getting closer to her crush, football star Cory Jacob, who, as luck would have it, is assigned as her spotting partner. When Angie’s feelings are unexpectedly returned, her life is suddenly filled with the giddy electricity of first love. But why, then, does Angie get a little flutter when her older and very hot boss, Brad, looks at her?

  Angie seems to have everything going her way, until her world is torn apart by her sister’s betrayal which leads to a brutal rape. Heartbroken and reeling in the aftermath, Angie has to find an internal strength to rival her record-breaking power lifts if she ever wants to feel worthy of love again.

  Special thanks to my loving husband, for his support in the writing of this book and for his love and caring while I overcame my own inner demons.

  Also, to my friends who put up with my moody behavior after my ordeal and loved me in spite of it.

  Prologue

  No one ever dreams their choices—or those of their loved ones—will lead them to a real life nightmare. My sister woke me in the dead of night, pulled me from bed, and took me somewhere against my will. She was older, supposedly more mature. She was supposed to know right from wrong. She was supposed to watch out for me. But she hadn’t. She’d brought me to him. Maybe she hadn’t meant for this to happen—had she?

  Footsteps sounded in the hall, the click of the lock, and then my sister’s laughter trickled in as the door to the small, unfamiliar room opened. The bed creaked as his weight pressed down. I tried to crawl away, recoiling from him and the memories of what he’d done earlier, still so raw in my mind. But he grabbed my leg roughly and dragged me back.

  I clutched the small blanket to my naked body like a shield. The material ripped as he tore it away. I tensed, ready to fight. A scream welled up in my throat. It escaped in an agonized whimper as his fist slammed into my gut.

  “Shut up, slut! You asked for this.” He hefted his well-muscled body over mine again. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I clenched my eyes shut against the unwanted invasion of my body.

  I chose not to struggle. I’d already tried to fight, tried to bite, tried to scream. No one was coming to help me. And he was right, wasn’t he? I must have done something to ask for this. This was my fault.

  Chapter One

  The weight of the barbell pressed into my palms as I strained to lift it, the crosshatch pattern marking my skin. Sweat made it slick and hard to hold. You would think the sweat was due to the fact I was lifting weights, but that wasn’t the case. At least not entirely. The deep blue eyes of my longtime crush, the unbelievably handsome, not to mention funny, Cory Jacobs, looked down at me. His hands hovered below the bar, spotting my hundred pound load. This close I could see flecks of green surrounding his black irises, his golden skin smooth over his prominent cheekbones.

  “Fantastic, Angie.” His smile set my already elevated heartbeat to an almost frantic pace. “You can lift quite a bit for a girl.”

  I pressed my lips tightly together at the sexist comment, but my distaste eased at the touch of his fingers as he tweaked my bicep. When Coach Harrington had paired us up that morning, an inexperienced lifter, myself, with an experienced one, Cory, I’d almost squealed with barely contained delight. I still couldn’t believe my luck.

  It was the first day of practice for the powerlifting team. One downside was the time of practice. Before school. It was that, or not have a team..

  Shaking my head, I refocused, and busted out the last two repetitions. The clang of metal echoed off the concrete walls as the bar crashed into place on the rack. Taking a quick swig of water, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, then stood and glanced around the room as I shook out my arms trying to get my blood flowing.

  The room stank of sweat, both old and new, and my nose crinkled. Boys littered the room among the daunting collection of weight equipment, in various positions of exertion: lying on benches, squatting under the weight of a barbell, doing pull-ups, muscles strained and faces red with effort. Jewelie Jones, or JJ as she liked to be called, stood in the far corner waiting to take the proffered barbell from the freckled hands of a red-haired boy I’d never seen before. She flipped her long ponytail out of the way before positioning the bar across her shoulders.

  My best friend JJ, a major tomboy, was completely unaware of how gorgeous she was. When I suggested we join the powerlifting team, she’d jumped at the idea. My motivation to join may have been, in part, to do with a particular hunky, blue-eyed guy, but truly, I loved the sense of strength I got when I lifted. My sister, Lorraine, may have also inspired it—but not in the way you’d think. I wanted to be nothing like her. Like all younger sisters, I’d looked up to Lorraine for years, but her recent plunge into drugs and alcohol had destroyed the illusion of the perfect older sister.

  My gaze traveled over to the only other girl on the weightlifting team. Liz. My ex friend. At the sight of the tall blonde, I felt a rush of disgust, my hands curling tightly, my nails gouging half-moon shapes into the palms of my hands.

  “Okay, slacker.” Cory gave me a playful shove, his smile beatific. “On to the next station, you freak of nature.”

  “Who you calling a freak of nature, with your massive bulging biceps? Disgusting!” Bumping him playfully with my shoulder, we headed to the next station. I relished the brief contact. His muscles were anything but freaky.

  Cory extended a pair of dumbbells toward me, his blue eyes twinkling. I quickly grabbed the dumbbells, ducking my head to hide the color spreading across my cheeks.

  I began the triceps exercise Cory had just demonstrated, humming along to a song I’d heard on the way to school. With the ten-pound dumbbells clutched firmly in my hands, I lowered them behind my head, easily bringing them up to the starting position above my head, my elbows slightly bent. Anxious to prove what I could do, I busted out the first and second sets, my pace slowed considerably through the final set.

  Almost half an hour later, at the last station, my arms trembled. I struggled to touch my chin to the bar for my fourth chin-up. My muscles screamed at me, all strength fleeing inches from the top. I dropped awkwardly to the floor. Cory caught me just before I toppled over onto my butt.

  “Whoa, you okay there?” He steadied me and then let go.

  I touched my arm where moments before his fingers rested and mumbled, “Yeah, thanks.” My arms hung heavily at my sides. But I felt good. Really good, and strong, powerful even. I liked this weightlifting thing. I swung my arms from side to side. They flopped around like limp spaghetti, blood tingling through my veins as feeling returned. “I think I may have overdone it.”

  Cory laughed and smacked me on the back, the force almost knocking me off balance. “Nah, you did a great job, Ang.”

  “Thanks.” I turned away to hide my frown, hoping my voice didn’t show my disappointment. No one gives a girl they like an atta-girl.

  I headed off toward JJ, but stopped and turned back to Cory, promptly forgetting what I was going to say. Cory put up the stool we’d been using, his hands surprisingly graceful. The flexing of his muscles and his striking angular profile combined to render me breathless. He straightened and blinked at my stare. An inviting grin split his face.

  “Uh, thanks for spotting me.” I returned his smile, but it faltered.

  “Yeah, sure. Anytime. You’re an awesome partner.”

  “Right. See ya.” I waggled my fingers then slapped them quickly to my side. Lame. I plunked beside JJ on the stack of purple wrestling mats and ignored Liz who sat on her other side.

  “What’s got you bummed?” JJ asked. “You just spent the last hour with Cory.”

  “I know, right? I should be thr
illed.” I shrugged. “But I just made a fool of myself, so there goes any chance I had with him.”

  “Whatever. I saw the way he looked at you. He likes you.”

  “Yeah, he’s totally into you,” Liz piped in.

  “Who asked you?” I glowered at her intrusion.

  “Oh, come on, Angie. Give her a break. She didn’t know you and Alan were still an item.” JJ scowled.

  “You know it’s more than that,” I whispered, making sure only JJ could hear my next words. “I don’t care about Alan. I thought she was my friend.” I turned away.

  Glimpsing Cory’s unmistakable blonde head in the midst of a group of boys, a small smile played on my lips. Could JJ be right? Did Cory like me?

  I watched Cory laugh, unaware of my attention with his equally well-muscled and attractive friends on the other side of the “cage,” a floor to ceiling chain link fence that split the room in two. An intimidating array of weight equipment I’d not been introduced to yet stretched behind the fence. It reminded me of a prison yard, the group of boys on the other side, the pits of their white T’s and tanks sweat-stained.

  Heat flooded my face when Cory’s gaze flicked up, catching my open stare. I quickly turned sideways, but saw him continue to look, several of his friends now glancing our way. I strained to hear their conversation.

  I caught a few snippets through the clamor of other noises:

  “… those girls are a joke …”

  “think they can make it on this team …”

  “… see the one fall off the chin up bars?”

  A heavy, sinking feeling hit my gut, Cory’s deep voice saying my name, the rest of what he said lost in loud guffaws. His friends slapped him on the back. His eyes met mine, the smile on his face like a dagger to my heart.

  I stiffened, icy tendrils streaking through my veins, cold settling in my stomach like a stone, Cory’s laughter adding to the heaviness. I wrenched my eyes away, scrambled to my feet, and pushed past Liz and JJ. My hands were on the locker room door just as the coach blew the whistle for dismissal.

  I dressed quickly, not paying attention to JJ or Liz when they came in. Too absorbed and upset by my thoughts, I somehow managed to hold in the hurt.

  “What’s going on?” Concern etched JJ’s face. “Is this about Liz?”

  “Stupid boys,” I began. “Who do they think they are?”

  JJ’s brows drew together, beckoning me to continue. Looking past her to Liz openly watching us, I jerked my head in the negative. I pushed by her, mumbling, “Tell you later.”

  Glaring darkly at Liz, I stalked off, feeling a small measure of satisfaction when she stiffened, twisting away from my stare. Briefly glancing in the mirror, I adjusted my clothes. My fingers stopped mid-adjustment, the statuesque figure of Liz visible over my shoulder.

  I pivoted away from my reflection, bright splotches of color on my cheeks, and slung my bag over my shoulder, leaving the locker room without waiting for JJ like usual.

  I’d almost made it to the biology room for the first class of the day when a pang of remorse hit. It wasn’t JJ’s fault Cory was a jerk, or that I’d set myself up for disappointment, or even that Liz was a backstabbing whore who cared about no one but herself. Turning on my heel to head back to find JJ and apologize, I collided with a very solid, unyielding mass.

  I rocked back from the collision, taking a further step back to balance myself, unprepared for the face to face with Cory so soon, his hurtful comments ringing in my ears. Now in jeans and a gray t-shirt, a large eagle stretched across his powerful chest, his damp hair curled over his forehead. I sucked in my breath at the imposing magnificence of him.

  He reached out to steady me, but I flinched away from his touch. A flicker of confusion passed over his face, his eyes pinched. I fled into the biology room and slid into an empty seat midway to the back, willing my racing heart to slow.

  I closed my eyes. Sounds swirled around me: students shuffling feet, the scrape of chairs as they sat down, and their animated conversations.

  “Miss Adams!” Snickers of laughter pushed through my consciousness. Ms. Baxter looked pointedly at me. “Are you going to join us today?”

  “Sorry, Ms. Baxter. Here.” I pushed a chunk of hair behind my ear and slunk further in my seat.

  I tried not to return to my dismal musings and took in the room as the teacher called roll. Oversized plant and animal cell models were tucked on overcrowded shelves, a full-sized human skeleton dangled from the ceiling, a chain attached to its skull, the periodic table by the side of the board, and a myriad of other science-y posters lined any exposed wall space. One depicted a frog, its arms and legs stretched taut, silver pins grotesquely anchoring it in place. A large incision had been made down the center, the flaps of skin pinned opened, its innards exposed and labeled. I turned quickly away, suppressing a shiver of revulsion at the thought of having to do that later this year.

  “Cory Jacobs,” Ms. Baxter’s shrill voice called out.

  My heart lurched. Cory? No, she didn’t just say that, did she? Please don’t be in this class, please don’t be in this class, I pleaded, knowing my silent petition was useless.

  “Here.”

  I whirled around at the sound of his deep voice directly behind me. His baby blue eyes bore into mine, sending heat flooding to my face, color blossoming brightly on my cheeks. He smiled lopsidedly, flashing his slightly crooked white teeth. Ugh. I still liked him.

  I faced forward without returning his smile, my pulse hammering. Slouching in my seat, I spent the rest of class forcing myself to pay attention, all the while the imagined prickle of eyes on my neck made it impossible to retain anything Ms. Baxter said. I peeked over my shoulder. Cory’s eyes were fixed on me as I suspected, his look keen.

  Whispers hummed around me. Quiet snickers. The tingling impression of judgment. I shifted uncomfortably and hunched over my desk, touching my chin on the cold surface, gripping my arms fiercely.

  As soon as the bell rang, I bolted from my seat, making a beeline for the exit.

  ><><><><><

  I’d just plunked a salad onto my tray when JJ found me, her hands stuffed into her faded jeans, a slightly pinched quality to her eyes. “So what was that all about earlier?”

  “What was what about?” I played dumb. I really did not want to talk about this.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” Her tone was firm. “Why’d you take off on me after practice?”

  “I needed some air,” I evaded, adding a sprinkle of grated cheese to my already unappealing salad.

  “Would this have anything to do with Liz?” She followed me through the slow moving line.

  I looked at her, my eyes flicking to the ceiling, and huffed. “No, it’s not Liz. I mean, I still really don’t like her, but no, it’s not her.”

  JJ tapped my nose with her finger and grabbed an apple. It disappeared into her pocket. “This is about Cory, isn’t it? What’d he do?”

  “You know, you could lose your hand in some countries for stealing. And you preach to me about forgiveness.”

  “Don’t change the subject.” She pointed accusingly at me as we claimed our usual spot by the common room windows. Snagging my fork, she stabbed at my salad and stuffed a bite in her mouth. “So what happened with Cory?”

  She arched a single, graceful eyebrow at me.

  “Remind me why I like you?”

  “Because I’m so adorable.” She scrunched her nose, her eyes glittering with delight.

  I sighed heavily. “Okay, fine. Cory was so awesome this morning. I was even deluded enough to think he might actually like me. And then he gave me an atta-girl pat on the back and started bashing us with that bunch of jocks he calls friends.”

  “They were making fun of us?”

  “Yes. ‘Girls on the team, what a joke’,” I mimicked, my tone low and mocking.

  “So what? We’re not in there to prove anything to anyone.”

  “Speak for yourself. That’s exactly w
hat I want to do. I’m no joke.”

  “And there she is.” JJ pulled her pilfered apple out and rolled it around in her hands. “I knew I’d get you fired up, so forget about those moronic boys.”

  I gave a quick bark of laughter. I couldn’t help myself. Cory was not a ‘boy’. Well, yeah, technically he was, but the word boy simply didn’t fit. Well-muscled and tall, he dwarfed most of the male teachers and looked more like a man than a boy with his rugged good looks.

  JJ leaned against the wall and stretched one long leg out on the bench. She was about to take a bite of her apple when I snatched it from her grasp and took a large bite, juice spitting into the air as my teeth crunched loudly into it.

  She smirked and pulled the rest of my salad over to her.

  The remainder of the day passed swiftly, homework heaped on with each new class. The only bright spots were A cappella, an audition only choir, and Mr. Perry’s English class. He truly made it come alive. Today, he’d come in wearing his favored Shakespearean jerkin, short pants, and blackened teeth. The corner of my mouth edged up at the memory.

  But the relief was short-lived. My stress rocketed up again at the doorway to my last class.

  Cory sat in the back of the room.

  Even now, with the pain and resentment I harbored toward him, my heart did a flip-flop, diving unnaturally into my stomach. I froze in the doorway, forced in by Mrs. Griffin’s shepherding as she came up behind me. “Take your seat, Miss Adams.”

  Seat, what seat? Oh, the one next to Cory. The only seat left.

  I took measured steps to the back. Cory pulled out the chair as I approached and draped an arm casually over the back, his mouth quirked up. I tried to nudge the chair away, but his arm remained. I leaned toward him, my voice low, “What’s up with the nice act?”

  His smile faltered and he slowly withdrew his arm, his eyebrows furrowed. The chair free of his arm, I moved it as far away as I could without ending up in the lap of a girl I’d known since grade school. I sat down and resolutely averted my gaze.

  As though enthralled by Mrs. Griffin’s brilliant lecture on economics, I started scribbling on my notepad, my notes nonsensical and messy. The period passed in a haze. Hyperaware of Cory, every word the teacher spoke sounded like Charlie Brown babble. Class ended with yet another homework assignment. I scooped up my things, intent on escape, when fingers closed over my elbow.