by Lee Kilraine
He was heading home when he saw Delaney’s Jeep parked in front of the 24/7. Without thinking, he turned his truck into the gym parking lot. He couldn’t help it. He was beginning to think she was his true north and damn if he wasn’t trying to reorient his life in her direction.
He walked into the gym still in his police uniform, figuring he’d just catch a glimpse of Delaney before heading home. He stopped at the front desk, where Greer stood talking with Gage and Hawk. It was early afternoon and the gym was buzzing with the afternoon rush. High school jocks and gym rats were grunting and sweating over by the squat rack and bench press area.
On the opposite side, everyone had wisely left one corner of the gym to Delaney, who walked the treadmill while ignoring everyone else. Even Barbara, who tried to offset her lush figure wrapped tightly in a metallic purple leotard against Delaney’s dark baggy sweats, seemed to know not to get too close. She fluttered around with some light weights while walking in a wide circle around Delaney’s treadmill. When even that didn’t seem to get the attention she wanted, she made a beeline for the front desk.
Barbara squeezed herself in between Quinn and Gage and leaned against the desk, rubbing up against them both. Both men stepped to the side.
Greer snorted, and then turned to watch Delaney. “Hey, Quinn, how would you say Delaney’s workouts went this week?”
“Other than showing up, I wouldn’t know. She’s like a wounded animal. She won’t let us near her. She won’t let us develop a workout for her.” Quinn shook his head. “She’s just going through the motions for you.”
“Isn’t it sad some people are so vain they make a big deal out of one little injury?” Barbara pondered aloud.
Greer’s eyes flashed toward Barbara and then back to watch Delaney.
“It’s pretty amazing what some people will do to get attention. I mean, I remember the pain I was in when I tore the ligament in my heel last year,” Barbara said. “You didn’t hear me whining about it six months later, did you?”
“You fell off your high heels, Barbara,” Greer said. “The whole gym had to listen to you complain for months afterward.”
Barbara turned a disdainful eye on Greer. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but Delaney’s accident was almost one year ago. I’d call that milking it, honey.”
An angry snarl rose from the treadmill zone. Quinn pushed off the counter to intervene, but Greer stopped him with a hand on his arm and a shake of her head.
“That figures,” Barbara complained. “She doesn’t have enough attention so she’s moving on to throwing a fit to get it.”
“Jayden! Heads up at the squat rack!” Hawk called over to the trainer closest to the high schoolers in the corner. “These freshmen don’t know dirt about securing weights.”
Quinn tracked Hawk’s gaze over to the far side of the gym, where one skinny high schooler was trying to out-lift his friend in an overhead squat. Jayden hustled but was still two steps too far away to help fix the situation. “Cover your ears.”
Maybe if Delaney had seen the weightlifter drop the weight, she could have stopped her reaction. But she didn’t. Metal weight plates hit the floor with an explosive crash. After the first crash of the forty-five pound plate, the weightlifting bar, suddenly lighter at one end, tipped the other way, allowing two other plates to slide off with a harsh metal clang on the gym floor. The successive blasts were a shock to her system. She instinctively let go of the treadmill to cover her head and ears. She stumbled, which caused her prosthetic leg to slip out from under her and she landed on her knees, only to slide off the end of the treadmill. One last clang of the barbell onto the floor had her huddled into a ball with her whole body shaking.
Her heartbeat pounded in her head and fluttered painfully in her chest. Life slowed down to a series of slow-motion freeze frames. Her ragged breathing amplified in her head as if it was being piped over loudspeakers. When the fear gripping her ebbed, the anger flowed in like a stormy tide. All her tamped-down anger erupted up from the deep place she’d crammed it.
Unaware of the silence in the gym, Delaney struggled to her feet. “Dammit!” She reached out and started grabbing and throwing anything nearby. Her gym bag, her towel, her water bottle, a medicine ball, some high schooler’s backpack. Her throws were wild and her anger so frantic, she couldn’t keep her balance and fell on her butt again. “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” Delaney’s hands shook as she pulled frantically at her baggy sweats. Finally stripping down to her shorts underneath, she scrambled up, flinging the sweatpants off to the side.
All eyes in the gym watched the sweats fly through the air.
“Son of a bitch!” Delaney bent down, unstrapped her prosthesis, and threw it as far as she could. It hit the mirror cracking the corner of glass, raining glass down in glittering shards. Delaney dropped on her ass for a third time and stared at the shattered mirror as she wiped angry tears from her eyes.
The gym stayed silent. It wasn’t the shards of glass on the floor that held everyone’s attention, but Delaney’s size-seven neon-green running shoe with her prosthetic foot in it.
“Holy crap,” Gage and Hawk both said.
“What the hell, Greer?” Quinn could not take his eyes off Delaney. He had to grip the counter in front of him because the shock had him swaying.
“Oh, shit,” Hawk said. “I’ve seen that reaction plenty of times before. I don’t think she was in a car accident. I’d bet my house she was in the war.”
“What?” Damn if his decision five years ago to avoid hearing about Delaney’s life hadn’t just bit him in the ass. Quinn’s gaze speared Greer anyway. “Is that true? Where?”
“Afghanistan. Hey, I told you she was in an accident. I just didn’t tell you what kind. She didn’t want anyone to know. The gossip mill jumped to the conclusion it was a car accident, and you jumped right along with them. I’m sorry.” Greer bit her lip as she looked back toward Delaney. “I’ll pay for the mirror.”
Quinn was still caught in the undertow, unable to find firm footing or a lucid thought. In his gut, though, he knew this was a game changer. All these weeks he’d been rearranging deck chairs while Delaney’s Titanic was sinking. No wonder she thought he was an idiot. “Don’t worry about the damn mirror.”
“Um . . . what just happened?” Barbara asked in a high-pitched voice.
Greer turned back to the front desk to glance at Barbara. “Yo, Gage—grab Barbara. She’s going down.”
Gage turned just in time to grab her as she fainted. “Yeah, pretty surprising, your sister. Look at that sweet ass she’s been hiding under those sweats all this time.”
“Gage, you’re an idiot.” Hawk still looked over at Delaney.
“Quinn.” Greer grabbed on to his sleeve. “Get over there and talk to her. She needs to see people act like this is no big deal. Go over there and act like it isn’t a big deal.”
“It’s a pretty big fucking deal, Greer. One you should have told me about.” His body was frozen in his spot. Hell, that wouldn’t do. He headed in Delaney’s direction, each step heavier than the next, as if he were wading through quick-drying cement.
“She does not need pity,” Greer hissed after him.
“That is probably the only thing I know right now.” He ground out the words from a throat too tight to swallow or breathe.
Quinn stopped next to Delaney, searching his brain to find something to say and coming up empty. He looked down at her, his shaking hands safely hidden in his pants pockets. “Hey, Laney. What are you doing?”
“Losing weight. Isn’t that why most women come to a gym?” Her eyes never left the shards of glass.
Her familiar feisty attitude helped him find temporary footing. “Cute. Do I get to join in with making the gimp jokes, too?”
She turned her head, focusing dazed eyes up at him. “Only if you’re in the club. Is this where you pull off your prosthetic arm and say, ‘I’ve been through this, so you can too’? I think that was last week’s movie of the week.”
>
“No.” Quinn shook his head. “This is real life. Welcome back.”
“Oh, bite me.”
At a rare loss for words, Quinn walked over to retrieve Delaney’s prosthesis. He shook the sparkling shards of glass from it before handing it back to her. “So, this is a surprise. And a lot of things make sense now.”
“Huh, that’s funny, because things make even less sense to me now than they did nine months ago.” She finished strapping on her limb, stood up, and walked over to pick up her sweatpants, ignoring him the whole time.
Quinn picked up her gym bag and water bottle, holding them out to her. He wasn’t sure why, but he held on to her bag after she grabbed it, waiting until she looked up at him, desperately needing some connection. “Hey, no more living in denial. That’s a step forward, right?”
“Just because I didn’t tell people doesn’t mean I was in denial. I know exactly what I’m dealing with. Unlike you, I don’t have a choice.”
Her voice hit him, cold and hard, and he felt as if he might crack under the weight of his guilt. Her gaze challenged him, pinning him to his spot. Dared him to deal with it too. Feeling blindsided, he darted his gaze away before she could read his unease. He wasn’t quick enough, and he knew the moment she saw it. Her body stilled, stiffened, and pulled back.
“I am obviously failing the test here.” Panic and instinct had him stepping into her space again. “But cut me some damn slack. I’ve had all of five minutes to absorb this, and I’m having a little trouble.”
“There’s no test. I didn’t ask you to deal with anything.” She threw her shoulders back and looked fiercely up into his face. “Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d get out of my personal bubble.”
“Before you do anything crazy, look over my shoulder at your sister’s face.” Quinn moved a few inches to the side to make it easier for her to look. “You see that pale, worried look? She did not look that way a year ago. She was also about five pounds heavier. You need to at least try, for Greer’s sake.”
Guilt and pain flashed across Delaney’s face in such starkness that Quinn felt like a rat bastard for the low blow. But ever since he’d watched Delaney’s prosthesis fly through the air, he’d felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff with the earth crumbling out from under him.
“For Greer’s sake.” Her voice barely escaped from between her stiff lips.
“Hell, that didn’t come out right. No, not just for Greer’s sake. For both of you.”
“No, you’re right. I’m going to have to try again, aren’t I? For Greer. I mean really try.” She sucked in a breath and swiped at a rogue tear tracking down her cheek. “I couldn’t do it last time I tried.”
For whatever reason, Delaney had finally stripped down to the truth. And it scared the hell out of him. “It’s not you against the world anymore, Laney.”
“The last time I asked for help, it didn’t end well. Did it?” Delaney’s hands clenched and she yanked her gym bag out of his hand. This time, he let go without a fight.
Quinn couldn’t get any words out. His throat was tight and his mouth dry. In his mind, he saw Delaney’s prosthesis fly through the air in an endless repetitive loop. He was torn between needing to throw up and wanting to punch something.
“Don’t you dare feel guilty. I’m not your problem.”
Instinct had him stepping close to her, wanting to deny it. Honesty had him staying silent as he looked down, thinking how damn unfair it was that this had happened to her, of all people, after the crappy childhood she’d had. In an instant, he realized he’d made another mistake.
Delaney punched him in the stomach without warning. “Don’t pity me either.” She limped toward the exit, storming out with the front door, which clanged angrily behind her.
Quinn bent over with his hands on his knees, recovering his breath from her sucker punch. He totally deserved it. Hell, he couldn’t have fumbled that any worse. Unlike Delaney, though, he had no trouble asking for help. And he knew who to turn to.
Chapter Eleven
Delaney’s tires squealed out of the gym parking lot as she tried to control the scream she felt rising up. She took a deep breath and eased up on the gas pedal before she got another ticket. She needed to be alone and, just like it had been in high school, this town was too small for that. Her hands steered her Jeep across a familiar route until a few minutes later she was seeking refuge where she often had in high school: the Climax High School track. Only this time she took a seat in the first row of the bleachers, desperately trying to ignore the pull of the track and the memories of the years she’d spent losing herself on that oval.
Most people who had seen her run in high school would swear she ran as a fierce competitor who hated to lose. The truth was she’d run because in every race came a moment when she slipped free. When the pressure of her father’s hatred and animosity, of taking care of Greer, of living with the whispers behind her back started crowding in on her, she came here and ran and ran and ran. Escape was her goal and reward, not the medal.
Being fast had helped her pay for college though. Over the years, picking up gigs as a part-time track coach had allowed her to send a little extra money home to Greer. She shook her head to clear the memories. They were just another thing that caused pain now, stirring up regrets and what ifs. What had Quinn said? Welcome to real life. This was her new reality, and you know what? Reality sucked. So much for keeping her secret and slipping out of town. Damn her temper. Her thoughts whirled around like the outer bands of a hurricane, but in the calm center one thing stood very clear in her mind. The look of shock and pity on Quinn’s face was branded there.
The look on his face cut deep. It was her own damn fault. She’d started to fall for Quinn’s sweet talk and sexy tricks, even though he’d let her down before. Just like in high school, he wasn’t available when she needed him the most. For the first time in months, she waded through the ugly truths she’d been hiding. She let go and allowed herself to be sucked into the turmoil of her life. All the pain, anger, confusion, and reality converged in the pit of her stomach, where it rose up, boiling over and out in one loud, gut-wrenching scream.
“Damn, you sound pissed off, lady.”
Delaney slapped her hands over her mouth and spun around, looking up in the bleachers to where the voice had come from. Sure enough, five rows up, over in the shadows of the side wall, sat a teenager.
“I’m sorry you had to listen to that. I thought I was alone,” she said, hoping she hadn’t scared him.
“Hey, it’s cool.” The teenager looked more amused than anything.
Delaney didn’t see anything funny. “What are you doing here?”
“I go to school here. I’m with the cross-country team. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I just thought I’d sit. Where is the cross-country team?” She looked around the empty bleachers and track.
“Running. They’ll be back in a mile or two. Why do you need to sit? You look like you’re dressed to run.”
What was it with this kid? He just kept poking at her. Fine. She was in a mood to poke back. “Well, so do you. Why aren’t you running with your team? Are you injured?”
“Heck, no. I don’t ever run. My parents think I’m on the team. I just chill here ’til practice is over, then make it look like I was running, and boogie home. It keeps them off my back for three months. Then they bitch for a couple months until it’s time to pretend to be on the track team.” The teenager shrugged his shoulders. “Why are you dressed to run if you aren’t runnin’?”
“I can’t run. Why don’t you run if you’re dressed for it?”
“Shoot, I can’t run either; besides, I don’t want to run anyway. Running is for nerds. Why can’t you run?”
Real life, she heard Quinn say in her head. “I lost my left foot in an explosion. Why can’t you run?” She threw it right back at the kid.
“Seriously?” The kid leaned forward to try to see her foot. “I can’t run ’cause I’m
fat. Looks like you got two feet from up here.”
“It looks like you got two feet from down here, and I don’t see you running.”
“Ain’t that a typical grown-up for ya. Your excuse is a reason, but my reason is just an excuse.” The boy stood and shuffled down the bleachers until he was even with her on the first row. “Well, bullshit, lady. I hear that every day at home. I don’t need to take that crap from you. Looks like someone gave you a fake foot. You sure walked in here on two. Ain’t two enough to run on?”
Delaney couldn’t believe this pimple-faced teenager was hassling her. Damn it. Was she wearing a KICK ME sign? “You too, huh? Everyone’s telling me how lucky I am to be alive.”
“What else would you want? To be dead?”
“Huh, you don’t pull any punches, do you, kid?” Delaney squinted up at the teen. “No, I don’t want to be dead. Probably no more than you want to be overweight. Sorry, kid, if that hurt your feelings.”
“Nah. Hell, it’s kinda nice to have a grown-up hit me with some honesty for a change.” The teen maneuvered himself down to sit on the end of Delaney’s bench. “Most teachers are so ‘PC’ about my size it actually makes it worse. Kids think it’s hilarious to hear them talk about how ‘healthy’ I am or that I’m ‘big-boned.’ ”
Just then, the cross-country team burst out of the tree line onto the playing field next to the track. The leading pack of five runners was racing to the finish, pushing each other with insults. Delaney’s heart twisted as she remembered the wind in her face, her legs and arms pumping, pushing herself past pain into freedom. Running had lifted her from the messy confusion of life into a few moments of simple, sweet clarity. God, it hurt knowing she’d never feel that again. She quickly turned her head away and caught the kid’s look of longing as he too tracked the runners.
