June’s mom couldn’t make the trip because she was barely vertical, and her dad wanted to stay home with her.
June didn’t miss that her dad made Mark take one of his handguns with him, kept locked in the glove box.
May, torn between staying and taking care of their parents or going to support June when Mark’s parents offered to pay her way, finally had the issue settled for her when June asked her to stay behind and help take care of their mom and fill in for them at Cara’s.
On the two-day ride up, June spent a lot of time staring out the passenger window.
At things July rightfully should have been here with her to see.
I’m sorry I didn’t come home earlier, sis.
She didn’t even feel like reading. If she wasn’t staring out the window, she was staring at Mark. He didn’t try to talk when she didn’t feel like it, instead singing along with the radio and some CDs they’d brought with them.
Yes, she loved him.
He had no idea how much she loved and needed him.
Right now, he was her only tether to sanity. No way could she kill herself with him in her life. Besides knowing the grief would likely kill her mom, and it would definitely hurt her dad and May, she had to stay alive to make sure no one ever tried to pin July’s or Matt’s murders on Mark.
She could never allow that to happen.
And she didn’t want Mark’s last memory of her to be him reading a suicide note with her confessing to Matt’s murder.
That wasn’t the last memory she wanted anyone she loved to have of her.
Stuck between a rainy night and a hardened heart, she knew she’d need to come to peace with it.
Somehow.
But love. Love for Mark and her family.
Above all, that helped guide her.
She wondered if during their overnight stay at a hotel on the way up he would want to have sex with her, but he didn’t. Instead, he held her as she cried, making no attempt whatsoever to seduce her.
In his arms, she felt safe, secure.
Loved.
And that night as she went to sleep, she knew she’d be spending the rest of her life with him.
If he’d have her.
All the contenders were staying at a hotel close to the private training facility where the camp was being held. When they arrived late Thursday afternoon before the first day of the event and got checked in with camp officials, the woman at the registration table paused when she found June’s packet, then forced a smile June pegged before the woman even spoke.
“Hold on a minute, sweetie. I’ll be right back.”
She got up and walked away. When she returned a moment later, she brought someone with her, a man. June recognized the coach from Myrtle Beach.
He hugged her. “Cara called me. I’m so sorry.” He motioned for the woman to hand him June’s packet. “Normally, we don’t make exceptions like this. But Cara told me it might be better for you if we did, and this is a camp, not a competition.”
He opened her envelope and handed June two name badges, a red lanyard she recognized as being for the athletes, since she’d seen a few girls wearing them. The other, a blue one, for coaches, with Mark’s name on it.
“Thank you,” she managed, her vision blurring with tears. She felt Mark’s arm wrap around her shoulders, drawing her close.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, sounding choked up. “I appreciate it. I promised her parents I wouldn’t let her out of my sight.”
“Cara spoke very highly of you, young man. Said you are very impressive. Always helping out at her gym, and I remembered seeing you at competitions myself, last few times I was in Florida. Cara doesn’t give compliments lightly, either, and I’ve known her since she was thirteen and a competitor.”
He kindly smiled. “I’ve talked to the other coaches, and our staff. If there is anything you need this weekend, either of you, please let us know. I know how difficult it was for you to make this trip in the first place.”
“Thanks,” she managed, pulling the lanyard over her neck.
Mark donned his and took the packet from the coach. They stepped away from the registration table so he could go through the envelope and find the schedule of events. Tonight was a welcome dinner at the hotel, then tomorrow morning, early, the warm-up session before the first training session.
It might not be a “competition,” but it was definitely a competition. They knew the coaches would be sending out the letters next week.
June knew some of the girls there, but not many. A few people cast odd glances their way at dinner, and she spotted people whispering behind their hands.
More, however, sought her out to hug her and offer their condolences.
In some ways, June thought those were more difficult to endure. But she had to, or risk flying into a rage about the sonofabitch who’d murdered her sister, and then stating her glee that he was dead.
Except…as far as the police knew—and her parents had even notified them that she was going out of town with Mark so they didn’t think it was suspicious—Matt was still alive and on the run.
She hoped Matt was running…through the intestines of gators and fish and whatever else inhabited the waters of the Manatee River.
* * * *
The next morning, as they arrived for the first session before daybreak, Mark worried about June. Not just her grief, but something seemed wrong even beyond that.
Shattered.
He wasn’t so egotistical that he thought he had some or even any of the answers about what to do to help her.
So he did the only thing he knew how, and that was carry her gear bag, help her with her stretches before the warm-up session, and not interrupt her normal self-talk processes she went through.
Except…usually when she did this, she did it with July. They had a special banter between the two of them, so low and rapidly spoken that he couldn’t make it all out, but they’d always laughed at the end and hugged.
Ending with saying to each other, “I’ve got your back, sis.”
Always.
June had practiced several times with Cara before they’d left, but the past two days they’d been on the road and June couldn’t do anything except stretch.
Even those practices with Cara had been painful to watch. His beautiful force of nature seemed diminished, stiff.
Cracked and in dire risk of falling apart.
Whether he could hold her together remained to be seen, but he’d try.
Oh, how he’d try.
He would always have her back. And he’d spend as much of the rest of his life as she’d let him showing her that and trying to help her rebuild her former fury.
After she unzipped and removed her jacket and slipped off her warm-up pants, she sat and he helped her wrap her ankles and wrists, like he had for her, and July, countless times before. Cara had shown him how, so he could help at the gym.
Before she headed into the practice area, he rested his hands on her shoulders and waited until her jittery gaze settled on his.
“I have your back, baby,” he whispered. “Always and forever. No matter what. I love you. You’ve got this.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes filling with tears. He’d almost regretted saying it when she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing desperately, drowning, pressing her face against his chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered before releasing him and turning to go to the tumbling mat practice area, which was currently not as busy as the beam, bars, and other areas.
The gym smelled of sweat and chalk and hopes about to be made or dashed. Every sound echoed throughout the arena, squeaks and rattles of equipment, flesh smacking mats, coaches offering advice, voices of the girls calling out to friends, and parents urging their girls on from the spectator area.
Mark barely remembered to get the video camera out and start recording.
He knew this tumbling routine. July and June, with Cara’s help, had perfected their routines.
Similar, same points value overall, similar elements, but slightly different arrangements and moves. He still wasn’t good enough to pick out a lot of the finer nuances between some of the elements without looking at it on slo-mo on a video.
But…
He frowned, pulling his eye from the viewfinder to watch in real time. The tumbling program June was starting wasn’t her program.
It was July’s.
What is she doing?
Instead of a tsunami, it was like watching a fire tornado tumbling and flipping across the mat as if volcanic lava flowed through her veins instead of blood and heartbreak. Intense and painfully beautiful, her final jump and flip went higher than he’d ever seen her or July previously soar before she stuck the landing, both feet together, hands up, back arched.
A few people nearby even clapped for her.
Far more had been watching, stunned into silence by the lightning storm that had just scorched the mat.
He could see how hard she was breathing as she stepped down and cleared the mat for the next person to practice.
Not trying to speak to her, or make her speak, he shut off the camera and handed her a bottle of water as she returned to their seats along the edge of the arena.
A bad feeling nagged at him.
Beyond the obvious.
Something felt wrong to him. Really wrong. He knew that June hadn’t practiced July’s routines before they left on this trip.
Once she’d pulled on her jacket and sank into her chair, he knelt in front of her. “June?”
Her gaze skittered over his face and down again, away.
He cupped her hands in his and hoped he wasn’t pushing things too hard or fast. “Baby, look at me.”
She finally did.
“You have to do your routines. That’s what you practiced.”
“She should be here.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know. But I don’t want you getting hurt. You’re not prepared for those.”
She nodded, except he suspected she was going to keep on going on, wanting to ensure her spot on the team with July’s routines.
A way to hold on.
He sighed and stood, pressing a kiss to her forehead. As he straightened to move to his chair, she snagged his hand and pulled him in.
“Marry me,” she whispered. “Please?”
He knelt again, holding her hands. “Honey, you’re seventeen and—”
“It’s legal. I’m old enough. And I know Mom and Dad will say yes anyway. Please?”
“What about—” He’d almost said school, except he knew if she made the team and traveled, school was over for her until she finished. “Are you sure? You know I can’t travel with you. I have to go to school.”
“Please? It’ll make it easier on me knowing you’re waiting for me to come home. And traveling would only be a couple of years at the most.”
He reached up to caress her cheek. “We can talk about this at the room tonight. Okay? It’s not a simple yes for me, although yes, I want to marry you. I need to make sure this is because you want to, not because you feel you have to. I won’t pressure you.”
“You’re not. I’m asking you.”
Again, not as simple as that, but this wasn’t the time to have that discussion. In fact, from the way the tendons in her neck stood out, taut, he worried about her stress levels, knew she might be pushing herself toward a migraine at that rate.
“Yes.” He kissed her hands. “But I set the date, and I get to propose the way I want to. Understand?”
At least he was rewarded with the ghost of a smile, the first from her since…then. “Yes, sir,” she teased.
Something stirred deep inside him. He dropped his voice, smiling at her. “Keep it up, baby, I’ll make you call me that. I think I like it.”
Okay, soooo totally worth it to see a real smile finally break through, even as wan of one as it was. “Then maybe I’ll keep doing it.”
Relief washed through him. One more storm safely ridden through. “Then you’d better get back out there and practice beam.”
“Pull my springboard for me?”
He nodded. “Of course. Anything, baby.”
Chapter Sixteen
Now
With Mark, June’d had some wonderfully stable times. He’d never let her down, not once. She couldn’t have asked for a better husband, or a better father to her daughters.
Or a better Master.
Her rock, her lighthouse, her anchor.
Her everything.
Her Higher Power.
She rarely lost sight of how lucky she was, but there were moments which slammed that fact home even harder than usual.
This Sunday afternoon, they sat at June’s kitchen table, her and Chelbie and May. Chelbie looked worn and worried, and it made June very thankful she was able to pay back to the Universe a fraction of the energy she’d sapped from it so many years ago.
The past several weekends, June and Mark had volunteered both Friday and Saturday nights at Venture, and she was even letting Mark stand up now during his DM shifts.
The Fitbit she’d bought for him, when his doctor told him he needed to lose some weight to help with his back problems, had shown he was getting more exercise now than he usually did. He’d lost another five pounds, so she considered it a win.
That it amused him that spanking her and tying her up also showed as “activity” was a happy bonus. In fact, this afternoon, he and Tony were at the club giving a rope demo. Tony was tying Shayla with Scrye’s help and supervision, but when Chelbie had called that morning and asked to talk, Mark had let June stay behind.
“Sorry I’m dumping this on you guys,” Chelbie said. “I needed someone to talk to with experience in this, and Tilly’s back in the UK and about to head to Jordan.”
“How’s Mal doing?” June asked.
“Um, it’s touchy right now. The first therapist they’d paired her with at the inpatient facility turned out to be…unsuitable.”
“Unsuitable how?” May asked.
June had never told May the full depths of her dynamic with Mark. While May and Jim knew they had some friends who had non-traditional relationship dynamics, they had so far managed to keep the BDSM aspect from them.
But when she saw Chelbie reach up and touch her throat, June knew. “The woman thought, based on some things that Mal told her, that Kel was abusing her.”
“That’s ridiculous!” May said. “That man would no more abuse Mal than…well, than Jim would abuse me, or Mark would abuse June!”
June struggled not to laugh. This was definitely no laughing matter, even if what May said was unintentionally funny as fuck.
“Exactly. When the therapist confronted Kel, and Kel turned it around and told her no, they had an unconventional sex life but there was no abuse and everything they did was consensual, that kind of…blew up.”
“Blew up how?” June asked.
“As in Kel immediately went to an administrator and got him involved, and the administrator ended up firing the woman because her behavior was so egregious. But unfortunately, the damage had been done. She’d had over three weeks of working with Mal, and now has Mal convinced not that Kel was abusing her, but Mal extrapolated that losing the baby must have been her fault, because she was totally fucked up and abnormal for liking something other than the missionary position.”
“Well, who don’t?” May said, sounding disgusted. “That’d be a damn boring sex life. So, what, she likes a blindfold or handcuffs or something in bed?”
Chelbie slowly nodded. “Yeah, along those lines. Nothing horrible. And yeah, I knew about it. I am her bestie, after all. But I’m also not exactly a prude in my own sex life. Had I thought Kel was abusive, they’d have never found Kel’s body, trust me.”
“Amen,” June muttered.
They fist-bumped.
“So now the facility is trying to do damage control.”
“I thought they were supposed to be a good place?” June asked.
> “They are. The woman had gone rogue and no one realized it. She was a relatively new hire. No one realized that yes, she was great at treating eating disorders, but only for straight monogamous people who aren’t kinky. Now they’re trying to do a hard reset with Mal and undo that damage so they can start making progress again in treating her eating disorder.”
“How can we help?” June asked.
Chelbie sighed. She clasped her hands together, studying them for a long, quiet moment. “I apparently need to start playing the lottery. I confirmed this morning that I’m pregnant.”
“Congratulations!” June and May said almost simultaneously.
Then Chelbie burst into tears.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” June said.
“Uh, my bestie lost her baby, and is now battling an eating disorder, and I wasn’t even trying to get pregnant and bam.”
May kindly smiled as she laid a hand over Chelbie’s. “I know that I was happy for my friends if they had that kind of news for me. The two feelings—grief and happiness—are not mutually exclusive states. It’s possible to feel both at the same time.”
“What’d Rich and Nick say?” June asked.
Chelbie didn’t look up. “They don’t know yet,” she quietly admitted. “I’ve had a feeling this week, and I went out and bought a pregnancy test kit this morning. It confirmed it. Rich and Nick weren’t home.”
“You haven’t told them yet?” June and May asked in shocked stereo.
“I don’t know how. We weren’t trying.”
“Are they going to be unhappy about this?” June asked.
“I don’t know. We honestly hadn’t decided to have that talk yet. It wasn’t something on our radar to discuss. Plus, I’m supposed to go to LA with Rich next week for a recording session with Mevi’s band! This is like the worst possible time for me to have a baby.”
“Are you thinking of getting rid of it?” May quietly asked.
“No.” Chelbie covered her face with her hands. “I’m just…in shock.”
“Let’s back up,” June said. “You’re here today because you don’t know how to tell Mal you’re pregnant?”
Chelbie didn’t uncover her face, but she pointed a finger at her. “That,” she mumbled from behind her hands.
Walk Between the Raindrops [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 13
