Walk Between the Raindrops [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  Still he kept her coming. She had two minutes left.

  Her body arched and squirmed, and she cried and moaned, caught between hell and heaven and not wanting to escape either one at that moment.

  “One minute, baby,” he said. “Then I’ll take those mean old clothespins off you.” She was still coming, the blessing and the curse of the female anatomy. He’d once wished guys could come multiple times until he discovered the evil joys of forced orgasm torture and started using it on June.

  Now he realized he was good with one big one, sometimes a second depending on how he was feeling.

  But he loved torturing her like this.

  When the clock ticked over, he switched off the Hitachi. First he removed the nipple clamps, sucking on her nipples to soothe them after he did, and also deliberately playing with them, teasing her, tormenting her.

  Next her clothespins. And he crawled under her and licked her labia, working up to her swollen, tender clit. Even with the ropes she tried to squirm away.

  “Stay,” he ordered, freezing her. She mewed in protest but he clamped his hands around her ass to keep her pussy pressed against his mouth and didn’t stop until she’d weakly moaned her way through one more orgasm.

  He slid out from under her and started untying her. “Who’s my good girl?”

  “Me, Sir,” she weakly said.

  “Who’s going to behave tomorrow?”

  “Me, Sir.”

  He coiled the ropes and then climbed onto the bed to kiss her. “Who takes care of you and loves you more than anything else in this world?”

  She opened her eyes, smiling at him before reaching up and stroking his bearded cheek. “You, Sir.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Back then

  Fear filled Mark as he helplessly filmed June’s floor routine that afternoon. He remained out of the way of the coaches working with her, talking to her.

  She was still performing July’s routine.

  She stood there, nodding, hands on her hips as she listened but her gaze focused on the floor as they talked to her.

  Then they stepped out of the way and she started the routine again.

  Please, baby, please don’t hurt yourself.

  Once her turn was up, they moved to the beam. He could film the entire routine this time because one of the coaches would pull the springboard.

  Mark had given up trying to talk her out of performing July’s routines.

  She slipped on her mount on the second attempt at the routine, but she caught herself and recovered. The coaches stepped in to stop her and talk to her. Then she got down and they repositioned the springboard so she could start again.

  This time, she seemed to rotate even higher in the air than before, even higher than July usually managed, but she landed firmly on the beam and completed the routine before the next round of coaching and performance.

  Mark’s stomach felt like a tightly knotted ball of pain as he watched. Her face had gone blank, nothing remaining of the usual joy and expression she showed when performing, or even during training sessions.

  Nothing could ever make this right for her, but he knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to soothe her soul, if she’d let him.

  He was able to relax a little for a few minutes before they moved on to the vault. This was his least favorite event to watch, because it seemed, to him, to be inherently more dangerous than the others, even more than the uneven bars. But in this case, June nailed every pass, the coaches’ praise finally drawing a tight smile and nod of her head before they moved on to the uneven bars.

  The first and second times she performed July’s routine, she performed flawlessly.

  Disaster struck on the third.

  She lost her grip during a flying change and he helplessly watched as she landed hard with a gut-wrenching thud, her right leg twisted under her and her head smacking the mat hard enough to sicken Mark’s stomach. He put the camera down and ran to her, as did the coaches, but she was already trying to sit up despite them wanting her to remain still.

  “I’m fine,” she angrily insisted, her voice carrying through the now eerily silent gym.

  But when she stood, she winced when she put weight on her right leg.

  The head coach swooped in, but she twisted away from him. “I need to finish my routine!” Limping badly, barely able to put weight on her right leg, she started hopping toward the uneven bars despite the coaches trying to talk to her.

  Mark realized she was crying, and that was one thing he’d never seen her do. Not in the gym.

  Never.

  Her or July, neither one of them. They could be in utter misery, and they’d refuse to shed a tear during training or competition.

  He pushed through the throng to scoop her into his arms.

  “I have to finish! I can do it!”

  “Your knee’s hurt. We need to get you to the hospital to get it checked out. And you hit your head pretty hard.”

  “Dammit, Mark! Help me back up!”

  He stared down into her eyes. “I do this,” he softly said, “and from now on, from this point forward, you listen to me. I’m in charge. Understood?”

  She nodded.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  He reversed course and gently set her back on her feet under the bars. He didn’t miss that she kept her weight on her left leg, her right leg bent at the knee, foot off the floor.

  Grabbing her by her waist, he let her count down and lifted so she could grab the bar, then stepped out of the way, watching as she struggled to get back into the routine and pick up where she left off.

  The head coach moved to stand next to Mark. “Why did you do that? She’s going to seriously hurt herself. She should be evaluated first. That was a bad fall.”

  “Because she’s already seriously hurting herself,” he said, not taking his eyes off her. “Every routine she’s done today? She’s never done them before. Those are July’s routines, not hers.”

  “Oh, damn,” he whispered.

  A literal pin could have dropped and made more noise than the crowd now focused completely on June.

  June’s tears didn’t stop as she performed, slow and uncertain. A shell of her former self, and Mark’s heart breaking for her as he watched.

  His precious, beautiful tsunami—destroyed.

  Both men were waiting and watching when she approached the end of the routine, stepping in as soon as her left leg crumpled under her one-legged landing. She never even hit the ground. Mark had her scooped into his arms as everyone wildly applauded and cheered her, movement and talking once again resuming throughout the gym.

  “That’s it, baby. Let’s go.” He could see her right knee was already swelling.

  She clung to him, and one of the female coaches brought him the video camera and June’s gym bag as the head coach waved the paramedic team over.

  Mark carried her over to them and set her down onto the stretcher.

  “You ride with her,” the head coach said. “I’ll follow in my car.”

  “Thanks.”

  As a precaution, they strapped her to a back board and fitted her with a cervical collar to immobilize her head due to the way she’d hit her head on the fall. For the entire ride she didn’t speak, staring out into space as silent tears rolled down her cheeks and Mark answered the paramedic’s questions. Her parents had given him a notarized paper to both have June with him on the trip, and to authorize treatment in case of an emergency, since she was still a minor.

  As Mark and the coach, whose name turned out to be Phillip, sat in the waiting room while they performed an MRI of June’s leg and head, Phillip sadly shook his head.

  “I don’t see how she can realistically compete. Not like this. Perhaps next season. Especially if she’s injured. I don’t want to sound heartless, but I have to think about the team first. The first competition is in three weeks. It might be best if she doesn’t try to compete professionally this season. It probably
would have been wisest for her to simply focus on her college career, but I can’t fault her for trying.”

  “I understand.”

  “But will she?”

  “I think she already knows.” He scrubbed his face with his hands, exhaustion setting in. He didn’t want to call her parents until he knew the full extent of her injuries and had actual news for them.

  “I’m terribly sorry about July. I truly am. I loved watching both of them compete, and they were extremely talented.”

  “I just hope she didn’t blow her scholarship.”

  “Oh, dear. That’s right.” He seemed to think for a moment. “If so, I’ll make a few calls. Does she have her official coaching certification yet?”

  “She coaches kids at the gym for Cara. Her and July both. And May, their older sister.”

  Finally, they were called back.

  Mark held June’s hand as the doctor went through the results with them. No sign of a concussion or neck injury. She’d badly sprained her right knee, but there didn’t appear to be any torn ligaments, tendons, or cartilage. Still, he recommended her not putting weight on it for two weeks and light activity for the next two weeks before slowly trying to build up strength.

  They’d also administered a shot of pain meds, both for that and to help calm her, once Mark and Phillip had told them the full story before they’d started the MRI.

  Now she looked out of it, spacey.

  World-worn and weary.

  His tsunami—calmed.

  They’d given her a knee brace to wear, and crutches. While the doctor left them alone to go finish June’s discharge papers, Phillip kindly smiled.

  “June, you were wonderful today, but—”

  “But I’m not making the team this year,” she flatly said.

  “I’m sorry, my dear.

  With his other hand, Mark stroked June’s hair. “Let’s go back to the hotel and I’ll run out and get us some dinner. Okay?”

  She closed her eyes and nodded.

  Phillip went to bring his car around while they were waiting for the nurse to get June a wheelchair. Now alone, Mark leaned in.

  “Marry me,” he whispered. “We’ll get the marriage license when we get home, and Dad’s a notary. He can marry us.”

  She stared up at him. “What if I can’t compete in college and lose my scholarship?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t care.”

  “What if you have to support me because I can’t get a good job?”

  He stroked her cheek. “I don’t care. It’s my job to take care of you. Marry me.”

  “Even if I’m broken down?”

  He kissed her, waiting until he sensed she was completely paying attention to him. “Jim’s cousin was trying to talk him into taking over her lease for her, since they’re moving up to Tampa for her husband’s job. She’s in a two-bedroom house. May’s lease is up next month. The four of us can share the house. You said you’d let me be in charge from now on.”

  He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Marry. Me. Please?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  The nurse brought the wheelchair and discharge paperwork in. Mark signed for June and in a few minutes, they’d loaded June into Phillip’s backseat and were heading to the facility so they could get their car.

  As Phillip helped Mark transfer her into his car, he once again apologized. “June, I’ll make some calls. I know quite a bit of people. If your knee is an issue, I might be able to convince them to let you attend as a student coach and work in exchange for your scholarship. I can’t promise anything, but I will try.”

  “Thank you.”

  Back at the hotel, Mark didn’t let her use her crutches. He carried her from the car to their room, then made a second trip for their things.

  After calling in a pizza and going to get it, he sat propped against the headboard while she snuggled against him to eat.

  “I need to call Mom and Dad,” she quietly said.

  “I’ll call them in a little while.”

  She rubbed her head against his chest. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “You’re welcome, baby. Remember your promise to me today.”

  She looked up at him.

  “I’m in charge.”

  She nodded. “I love you.”

  He leaned in for a pizza-flavored kiss. “I love you, too. And I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me you want me to leave. I promise.”

  “Don’t make me a promise you can’t keep,” she whispered.

  “I will never leave you. You are the love of my life, and I’m going to spend the rest of our lives showing you that.”

  For a long, quiet moment she stared into his eyes. “Is there anything I could ever do that would make you leave me?”

  He thought about it. “Don’t ever lie to me. Don’t cheat on me. Don’t harm animals or kids, duh.” That drew a little smile from her. “Other than that…no.”

  “We both hunt.”

  “You know what I mean. I mean don’t be cruel or torture or stuff like that.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah.”

  She rested her head against his chest. “Okay. And that goes for you, too.”

  “Absolutely, baby. You’re the only woman in my life like that. And I won’t control who your friends are, either. But I’m in charge. Period.”

  “I think that’s for the best.”

  “Why?”

  A shudder washed through her. “Because I’m so…angry. July didn’t deserve to die. She deserved to live. And I’m so angry I feel like I could burn the world down. I don’t think I’m very good at taking care of myself anymore.”

  “And that’s why I’m in charge. Because I will always take care of you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Then

  “His roommate said he received a phone call,” the detective told them. “They know he answered the phone, but didn’t hear who he was talking to or what he said. Next thing they knew, they heard him leave. He didn’t tell them where he was going or when he’d be back. They didn’t know he’d left until they heard his truck start up and pull out. We traced the call to a pay phone.”

  June didn’t have to pretend feeling numb as she listened to the detective. Now, she really felt numb. With May sitting on one side of her on their parents’ couch and Mark on the other, holding her as her parents held each other, June listened to the detective and tried to…

  Pretend.

  Everyone expected her to be traumatized by the experience, and Mark himself could testify how upset she’d been.

  Still was.

  It was no difficult feat letting her rage and grief out now.

  Well, not at this exact moment. Right now, she was in a legitimate numb phase.

  Her father finally spoke. “So you haven’t found that son of a bitch yet? It’s been three damn days since he killed her. How difficult can it be?”

  “Not yet. His roommate, Stu, said it looks like Matt didn’t come back Friday night. And the roommate has an alibi. His girlfriend was there with him in his room when they heard Matt leave after receiving a phone call. Then they took Stu’s dog with them and drove to Nokomis to have dinner with Stu’s parents soon after that. They ended up spending the night there because of the weather.

  “His parents confirmed their alibi, that they were still there early the next morning. They couldn’t have left without them knowing, because Stu’s mother’s car had parked his in, and she would have had to move it. We had officers waiting for them when they returned to the apartment, and they questioned them. According to Stu, it looked like the apartment was undisturbed from when Matt left before they did. Stu and the girlfriend never actually saw Matt that afternoon when they arrived. He was in his room when they got there, and they were in Stu’s when Matt left.”

  A radio chirruped, catching all the cops’ attention. Two of them, including the detective, stepped outside.

  When they returned, he
looked…confounded.

  “Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Office just found Matt Gorsky’s truck abandoned at a large shopping mall up in Brandon, right off I-75. No sign of him. They’re pulling video footage from the mall security cameras now.”

  June forced herself to stay focused and appropriate and not break into a cheer that someone had stolen Matt’s truck. If the driver on the footage even slightly resembled Matt, that was it, they’d be looking for him elsewhere.

  They wouldn’t be looking for him in the Manatee River.

  And they damn sure wouldn’t be looking at her.

  * * * *

  Now

  Late that Thursday morning, they weren’t seated at the same table they’d occupied before, but one next to it, by the windows and overlooking the murky waters of the Anclote River.

  Sully didn’t speak after the waitress left their drinks and took their food order, waiting for June to start her story.

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel,” she quietly said. “Four months later, his murder is still classified as an open investigation, even though the detectives told me they don’t expect to make an arrest due to a lack of physical evidence and the time that’s passed. They’ve closed July’s murder now that they confirmed it’s him.”

  “You feel how you feel,” Sully said. “You aren’t supposed to feel any particular way.”

  A shuddering sigh broke free and settled in the air around her. “They questioned me and Mark one more time about that night. At the coroner’s inquest. I told them I couldn’t remember a lot about what happened immediately after we found July. They believed me.”

  “Well, it happened a long time ago, and you’d be in shock. That’s natural.”

  “I’m angry,” she whispered. “I want to go to his fucking grave and dig him up and piss on his bones.” Her gaze swiveled to meet his. “Can you fucking believe that? They actually buried a skull, a couple of ribs, and a few vertebrae! Going on nearly thirty years dead, and he’s still a fucking waste of space.”