Above The Surface

by Akeroyd, Serena

  So we had to make do.

  “Come here,” he rasped, when we had to go down to the reception area to grab our bus.

  I didn’t hesitate, I let him embrace me, let him kiss me. I breathed him in, and he did the same, absorbing every stolen moment, and trying to imprint it on my soul to keep me going.

  He’d have kept it light, wouldn’t have made it heavy, but I couldn’t. I needed him.

  So badly.

  I thrust my tongue into his mouth, not letting him soothe me with his hands, gentle me like I was some fractious horse. I wanted his passion, his desire. It made me feel real. Like these past few years hadn’t been as horrendous as they were at the time.

  He groaned as I thrust my tongue into him, inciting him to the point where he shoved me around and pressed me into the wall. His dick burrowed into my belly, and even though I wasn’t ready for more, couldn’t have taken it, I felt it like the brand it was, and something inside me was pacified.

  He was mine.

  Every part of him.

  She’d never have this, never have him in this way.

  His hands grabbed mine, pinning them overhead, and he shoved me harder into the wall, letting me feel every inch of his hardness, letting me feel every inch of him.

  He didn’t stop until I whimpered, panting against him, my body molten and melted against his.

  Only then did he pull back, nipping at my bottom lip, pecking the top one, before he pressed his forehead into mine.

  “I fucking love you,” he ground out.

  I closed my eyes, because that would have to get me through. When he pulled away, I moved into him, running the edge of my nose against his jaw, over his, and whispered, “I love you too.”

  It had to be enough, even though it wasn’t.

  He left first, pulling away like he’d been scorched, and I got it—we had been scorched. Both of us.

  We’d never be the same again.

  I shuddered, leaning into the wall, feeling like I’d just found myself in the middle of a tornado with no way out.

  Eyes closed, I let my breath come back to me, and only when I was ready, a little more composed than before, I left too.

  The Almanac Water Sports Team was waiting in the lobby. Coach glowered at me and grumbled about my being late—by a damn minute—and I ignored him, just ducked my chin and hustled onto the bus with everyone else.

  The journey home, including the flight, was uneventful, and we made it back in time to have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves.

  When I saw Peter waiting in the car in the parking lot, my smile didn’t feel as fragile as it might have. Until I saw Maria waiting in another, waiting on Adam.

  Before he got down off the bus, he shot me a look, and the pain in his eyes, the torment and the need combined together, created a toxic fuel that pained me.

  I stared at him, trying not to show much on my face, but wanting to imbue the look with what I felt.

  He closed his eyes, ducked his head, and left me behind.

  I was the last one off the bus, intentionally, and by the time I got down, everyone had started driving off.

  Purposely, I didn’t look in Adam’s direction because I knew Maria would have her octopus hands all over him just to get at me. But Coach helped me on that score.

  He arched a brow. “Your times were impeccable.”

  I shrugged, not really caring at the moment about the pool, which was pretty unheard of for me.

  He reached over, grabbed my shoulder, and muttered, “Nothing’s forever.”

  I tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re here now. Next year? You’re going to be in Stanford. Not long now.”

  Biting my bottom lip, I muttered, “That doesn’t help me now.”

  “No,” he agreed. “But let it fire you in the pool.”

  His candor took me aback. Coach always seemed to forget we were human. To him, we were athletes in need of molding, in need of whipping into shape. For him to recognize we had faults and needs, wants and desires, definitely surprised me. Enough so that my reply was gruff, “Don’t you think I am already?”

  He sighed. “Can’t complain. You’re the best we’ve got. The best this club has ever seen, Thea. I just—don’t let your heart get in the way of your head.

  “You have a good thing going right now. You live in a nice place, somewhere a damn sight nicer than you were before. You got a car waiting on you to drive you to that nice home, a good school, the best scholarship money can buy, and a family at your back that will give you everything you need until Stanford takes over.”

  “Is there a point to this?” I whispered, eyes on the ground.

  “Yeah. Don’t screw up a good thing.” He shook my shoulder a little, then mumbled, “Go on, get. See you here tomorrow at six.”

  I nodded, then trudged off to Peter. He was waiting outside the car by now, and I smiled when he opened his arms and welcomed me back.

  I hugged him, squeezing tight. Appreciating him so much at that moment.

  Probably more than he’d ever know.

  By the time we made it back to the house, I knew he was aware I wasn’t myself. He kept trying to talk to me, to bring me out of my shell, but it wasn’t working.

  I just needed some downtime, I figured. Plus, I had to work up the courage to ask Janice for help in getting me the morning after pill.

  Tugging on my lip as I pondered how this was the morning after the night before, I quickly googled how long I had to get the pill and sighed when I saw I had seventy-two hours.

  Not that I was going to risk it.

  When I made it back to the house, it wasn’t unusual when I wasn’t greeted. No one had been waiting to hear about my races, so that meant the house was empty—not surprising. It was a weekend, and both Robert and Anna had busy social lives. I knew we’d be discussing my races come dinnertime.

  Taking advantage of the empty house, I headed straight for the kitchen.

  The scent of bread and some kind of stock filtered through the air. I could easily discern a myriad number of herbs, and I let my nose guide me as I wandered into the room that was anything but the heart of the home.

  Sterile, with industrial stainless steel everywhere, from the counters to the electrical goods, it wasn’t somewhere I thought Janice was comfortable. She belonged in a country kitchen with scrubbed oak counters and a temperamental stove that she’d bitch about all the time because it never worked.

  This place was way too modern for her, even if the stuff she made in here was beautiful and worthy of a restaurant.

  It was like, I guess, putting Gordon Ramsay in a tiny, cheap ramen noodle place.

  Just didn’t work.

  I knew they were saving up for a little hotel on the Maine coast, and I knew exactly how it would look—like a doll’s house. All feminine and filled with fripperies. Lace and doilies and all that girly stuff Janice adored and which Anna, of the clean minimalist lines, loathed.

  While she didn’t fit in this stainless steel nightmare, her food sure as hell did, and my stomach, which rumbled at the yummy notes of the meal she was preparing, gave my presence away.

  So, when she looked up and caught my eye, her grin was instantaneous. She wasn’t a beautiful woman, but that smile made her so. She had bright blue eyes, hair the color of wheat, and round cheeks that were constantly bright pink. She always wore an old-fashioned pinafore, even if, beneath it, she was sporting yoga pants, and she made the best brownies I’d ever eaten in my life.

  “You little champ!” she declared, hustling me into a strong-armed hug.

  I laughed and squeezed her back just as I had Peter, then murmured, “I had a busy day yesterday.”

  Her brows rose at my tone. “Want to talk about it?”

  I nodded, but bit my lip as I did so, and it was hard looking her in the eye. I’d never really had an older female who I could talk about this stuff with. I mean, I probably would have been able to with Emma, but I always felt like she wa
s too busy, and I didn’t want to burden her with my crap. Anna wasn’t interested. At all. But Janice? I knew she’d help.

  “You want ice cream or fresh cookies?” she questioned, still peering down at me.

  “Both?” I asked hesitantly, and her brows lowered warily—she knew I didn’t eat junk food. Well, I wanted to, but I couldn’t. My body was a machine, and unfortunately, I had to fuel it with the right food at all times or pay the consequences in the water.

  “Okay, ice cream sandwiches it is. Take a seat.”

  I did as bid, taking a seat at the kitchen table, which was an odd square with eight stools around it. The table was white with black lines on it, making tiny cubes. I often sat here while Janice was cooking, and Peter usually joined us when he wasn’t busy puttering around the house. He wasn’t just the driver, but the handyman who tended to the gardens and such.

  When she brought out the cookies and the ice cream and set about making the treat, I knew I couldn’t wait. I knew I had to talk this out, so I didn’t wait for her to even take a seat before I blurted out, “I went back to my old neighborhood.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re originally from Fort Worth?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I-I wasn’t going to go, but I just had to. I was feeling antsy and like I needed answers.”

  “Did you get them?”

  “More than I anticipated.” I gulped. “My mom isn’t dead, Janice. She’s alive.”

  She released a breath. “I know, sweetheart.” Her hand came out, and she patted mine. “It was in your file. Robert warned us all that you weren’t aware of the truth.”

  For a second, I just froze, then I exclaimed, “Why would he do that? Why not just tell me?” Temper flared inside me, but even as it did, forming a mushroom cloud in my soul, I knew I couldn’t blame Janice.

  How was it her fault?

  She’d brought me under her wing, a stranger’s kid, a murderess’s kid—she hadn’t treated me any differently, and I knew, in this shitty world we lived in, if people did know, then they would judge me.

  I bit my lip, unsure how I was feeling. A part of me wanted to cry, just to break down in tears and let go. But my mom hadn’t deserved the fate that had been handed to her. Confused and torn weren’t the words.

  “I’m going to get rich, Janice. I’m going to make a million, just so I can fight to get her out.”

  My anger didn’t surprise her, if anything, she reached over and shoved an ice cream cookie at me. “Eat.”

  My mouth tightened, but I accepted the treat. “He beat her,” I whispered. “And he beat me.”

  “That’s why she did it?” Janice inquired, much like she’d ask which recipe I was following if I was making a cake.

  “Yes. The lady I spoke with said as much.”

  Janice pursed her lips. “Well, I can’t say that I blame her then.”

  Tears filled my eyes for real this time. I wanted someone else to have her back. My poor, innocent momma. She didn’t deserve the fate that had been handed to her, and I had to believe that I’d been taken along this path, not only to find Adam, but to get her out of a life worse than death.

  It was in our blood to travel. To roam.

  Roma weren’t meant to stay in one place for too long. Our ideals were different, bred into us over the ages, making nomads of us in our cradles.

  I couldn’t imagine how my momma felt, locked in, caged...

  “I want to see her,” I whispered.

  “I can’t blame you, but it might not be as easy as all that. Maybe she doesn’t want to see you,” Janice cautioned gently, before she took a bite of her own ice cream sandwich. “You need to write to her first. See what she says. I think they have to invite you for visitation as well. You can’t just pop in and visit like she’s in the hospital, sweetheart.”

  I hated that she was right, and as impatience filled me, gooey ice cream started slipping down my fingers as it melted in my hand, but I wasn’t interested in the creamy concoction, not to taste it, at any rate. Though it was weird, the sight reminded me of last night. I stared at the white liquid which spattered my hand before I whispered, “Can you take me to the pharmacy?”

  She reared back in surprise, and I couldn’t blame her. We were going from talking about my mother to my needing to start damage control on a potentially flammable situation. “Why?” she queried with a frown.

  “I-I had sex last night.”

  Janice tensed. “What?”

  I shrugged.

  “You didn’t use anything?”

  “I know the boy. He’s safe,” I mumbled.

  A pained moan escaped her, and she dropped her treat on the plate with a splat. “How could you be so reckless, Thea?”

  I hated how disappointed she sounded. In fact, I’d probably prefer for her to be mad at me, to call me stupid, to tell me I was a slut.

  Instead, she was hurt. Because I’d been stupid.

  Biting my bottom lip, I whispered, “I love him.”

  “Was it your first time?” she asked carefully.

  I caught her eye, nodded, and she released a breath, then patted my arm with sticky fingers.

  “We’ll go this afternoon. Or in the morning if nowhere’s open.”

  “Thank you, Janice.”

  I felt better for having spoken with her, for having revealed the truth to someone other than Adam. For a second, I wondered if Robert had told him about my mom, but no, his surprise had been genuine.

  God, I was so sick of adults ruling my world.

  I was so ready to be out there, doing my own thing, living my life the way I wanted to.

  But, if anything had come from today, it was that, one—I loved Adam as much as I ever had. I didn’t feel like I was dying inside when I thought of him anymore either. There was a bittersweet sorrow, I’d admit to that, but not that soul deep, bone gnawing ache that made me feel like I was being eaten away by a cancer that literally had no cure.

  Two—up until now, my only goal had been to swim. To spend as much time in the pool as I physically could. That was where my freedom was, where I could travel and roam without anyone disturbing me.

  But now?

  I had to swim and train with purpose.

  I wasn’t going to make the money it would take to liberate my mom from the jail cell she was living in if I didn’t focus on winning and reaching the big time.

  I needed to get rich, and I needed to do it fast.

  Coach was right—nothing lasted forever, and my time was nearing. The future beckoned me with a promise so bright it felt hotter than the sun, and I’d need that to spur me on, because no way in hell was my mother going to rot in prison for another eighteen years.

  Over my dead body.

  THEA

  I yawned as I opened the door, but though I expected room service, that wasn’t what I got.

  My eyes narrowed at the sight of Anna, standing there like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  My relationship with Anna wasn’t like the one I had with Robert. Anna was colder, less interested in me outside of what I could do for her. I tried to be grateful, because she’d brought me under her roof and had granted me a future that most would envy, but it was like living with a rattlesnake.

  Sure, we’d coexisted in the same house, but it was always with the awareness that if I did something wrong or if I let her down, she’d bite me. Luckily for me, the water was a place where I excelled, so I never saw that side of her, but I’d seen it with Adam. Had seen it when Adam had changed his mind about going to college—that Thanksgiving and Christmas had felt as though the snow was falling indoors. Frigid? Understatement.

  But because she never visited me without Robert at her side, I stared at her in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

  I hadn’t even told Robert where I was staying, so how she knew, I had no idea.

  “I just wanted to visit! We’ve barely had the chance to see you since we landed.” It didn’t surprise me that she pushed her way inside, and I didn
’t bother stopping her.

  I wanted peace and quiet—the only way to get that was to let her do what she wanted.

  To be fair, I figured that was how most things worked with her. She was such a pain in the ass that people just let her get away with murder to get her to shut the hell up.

  Right there was probably the best description of her political career.

  She peered around my room with a wrinkled nose. “Why aren’t you staying somewhere nicer? You can afford it now.”

  “It suits my purpose,” was all I said, not willing to discuss my reasoning. The place was nicer than a capsule hotel, a lot nicer than a three-star basic place, and decent enough to have room service.

  But because it wasn’t a suite of rooms with views of Tokyo, and didn’t come complete with a butler or a wine cellar, it wasn’t good enough for her.

  God, I’d forgotten how much of a snob she was.

  And right then, right there, I missed Peter and Janice. Fuck, I missed them so badly. I missed their simplicity and their kindness—direct contrasts to the woman standing in front of me.

  “I just ordered coffee,” I told her as I moved over to the bed to grab the jacket I’d pulled off in preparation for a shower. I wore a thin camisole and short shorts, but in her power suit—tailored jacket, trousers, and shirt that did marvelous things for her figure—I felt like a slob.

  “Good. We could go out for breakfast—”

  “I have plans,” I lied without an ounce of guilt. “Some friends from the team. I was actually heading out after the coffee.”

  Her nose crinkled, and she took a seat in one of the two armchairs in front of the bed. “That’s such a shame.”

  Was it?

  “How did you know where I was staying, Anna?” I asked warily.

  “Robert has you on ‘Find Friends.’” She wafted a hand. “I looked up this street and saw this was the only hotel.”

  I blinked at her blasé description of her stalking me. “How did you get my room number?”

  “I told them I was your mother.”

  Revulsion settled inside me at that, but I tamped it down—Anna was not my mother.

  Thank God.

  Though I had my answer, I couldn’t say it pleased me, but when another knock sounded at my door, I twisted around and went to answer it.