Shining Through

by Elizabeth Harmon

  Tabitha studied the bear. Its tan fur was worn away in places and its left eye had been replaced with a button. The bear obviously traveled everywhere with Mia and looked older than she was.

  As Tabitha was brushing her teeth, she heard Mia come in. She came out of the bathroom, determined to be pleasant. But Mia was already in bed, wearing ear-buds and a pink polka-dot sleep mask. Her slender arms were wrapped around Teddy.

  By Friday evening, Tabitha was ready to skate. Her hip was still sore from the fall she’d taken earlier in the week, but her practices had been solid. Though she’d skated only her competition programs, she felt renewed determination and commitment. Maybe a little pressure was what she’d needed to push her into competition form.

  She and Mia coexisted in the room, giving each other ample space and never being together for too long. During practices and backstage in the athlete’s lounge, Yelena Baryatinskaya and Katia Filipova, both of whom were favored but not shoe-ins, were cool but polite. None of the other four competitors posed much of a threat.

  In the short program competition, Katia skated well, but Yelena’s “Skyfall” program was marred by an under-rotated triple toe. Mia Lang’s execution of her “What a Feeling” program was flawless, but her presentation scores were lower than expected. Presumably the judges weren’t 1-D fans. Tabitha’s “Swan Lake” program was perfect, putting her in the lead.

  Once her event was over, rather than stay to watch the ice-dance competition, Tabitha returned to the hotel. She hadn’t been in the room five minutes when the front desk called to tell her a floral delivery was on its way. The bouquet of two dozen red roses had a card attached, which read, “I wish I could be there to toss these after your beautiful performance. Love, D”

  The thought of her sweet bad boy with the killer smile and gentle heart made her entire body feel alive. She grabbed her phone and typed a text, thanking him for the flowers. Then she added, “are you in St. Petersburg?”

  “Just got here. Saw your results. Can’t wait to celebrate.”

  Hmm. She assumed he meant tomorrow night, but it was still early. If she’d stayed to watch the ice dancers, she wouldn’t be in bed until after eleven. Daniil had sent her his address last week, and she knew it was just a short distance from the hotel. She could drop by and see him and still be back before everyone else. Tomorrow morning, she could sleep a little later, and still have plenty of time before her afternoon competition. She was in first place. Why not relax and live a little?

  She texted back. “Me too. Want company?”

  The four-story building was on an island in the river that cut through the city, and the same 18th century Neo-Classical architecture as those around the hotel. As she climbed from a cab, frigid night air stung Tabitha’s bare legs and crept under her short skirt. In LA, the sexy outfit had seemed like a good idea, but it wasn’t suited for the near-Arctic climate of St. Petersburg. Daniil would have to help her get warm.

  She took the elevator to the top floor, which seemed to have just one apartment. Daniil opened the door seconds after she arrived. He took her in his arms and kissed her breathless. Coming here had definitely been the right thing to do.

  “I’ve missed you,” she murmured against his lips.

  “I’ve missed you, Angel.”

  The stark and modern apartment was decorated in gray, black and chrome. Cold, and austere, it didn’t fit passionate, romantic Daniil at all.

  “Is this your place?”

  He took her coat and hung it in the closet. “It used to be, back when I trained in Peter. The building belongs to my father’s company, and this suite is for executives who come to the city on business.” He smirked. “Or need an out of the way place for personal business.”

  Luxurious, yet impersonal it looked like the perfect place for a cheating man to arrange a tryst. Had Daniil’s father ever come here for that purpose? From what she knew of the man, it wouldn’t have surprised her.

  Had Daniil?

  He gestured toward the black and chrome bar that sat beneath the enormous TV, mounted on the living room wall. “Would you like something to drink? Are you hungry?”

  “Nothing to drink, thanks.” She came to his side and looped her arms around his neck. “And the only thing I’m hungry for is you.”

  “Then wait no longer.” Daniil ran his hands up her sides and then pulled her close. His voice dropped lower, and he brushed a kiss across her lips before claiming her mouth in a deep kiss.

  His warm embrace took away some of her fears. The tug-of-war that waged in her heart, pulling her between trust and doubt lessened. She let herself be carried away by a sense of everything good and right. Just as she was more than an Ice Queen, he was more than a Bad Boy who would break her heart. Doubt was no match for the thrill of his kiss.

  They made their way to the bedroom, shedding clothes as they went. He peeled away her skirt and silk blouse and paused to admire her new black bra and silk thong. Then he peeled them away, too. Naked, she climbed onto the bed, and knelt before him, caressing his muscled upper body, and strong arms, embellished with tattoos.

  She brushed her palm across his chest and flicked her fingertips across his nipples; he closed his eyes and released a low groan. Paris had been all about him discovering her, now she wanted to do the same. She touched and kissed him all over, and his response brought a thrilling sense of power that took her desire to a fever pitch. She pulled him down on top of her, and when he pushed his long, hard length inside her wet folds, she released a loud, lusty cry.

  Afterward, Tabitha lay in his arms. A current of connection passed from his dark eyes to hers, wrapping around them like a web. “I needed this,” she whispered. “I needed you. Sometimes it feels like there’s so much uncertainty, and nothing I can believe in.”

  He stroked her shoulder and pulled her closer. “Why so troubled, Angel? Mia Lang is superb, but you are extraordinary.”

  “Mia is also determined and hungry. Lately, I haven’t been. I’m tired of being judged. I was perfect tonight, but I may not be tomorrow. And nothing short of perfection is good enough. You know what that’s like.”

  He brushed a kiss against her temple. “Tell me why you doubt.”

  She tilted her head to look at him, dark eyes, soft mussed hair, and handsome face, softened by a warm smile that showed his gentle soul. She’d become so used to hiding the ugliness in her life. She yearned to break free and put it behind her. She wanted to trust his love, and that he wouldn’t hurt her. The only way to know was to make herself vulnerable. She’d already told him she loved him.

  It was time he knew why she feared him.

  “The night I told you about my meltdown in front of the rink owner, I said that it was one of the worst experiences of my life. There was another. It happened to Samara, but I was there. I’ve never forgotten it. It changed how I looked at....”

  “Men?”

  “At everything. Have you ever heard of Jason Hart?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  “He’s a producer and a session guitarist now, but in the eighties, he was in a band called Noyzz. My mom met him when they played a show in Daytona Beach.”

  She told him of moving from a trailer in Florida when she was four, to the house with the pool in Benedict Canyon. Of the famous musicians who dropped by, people Jason and Fiona had considered friends. And the day they brought her baby sister home and Jason had declared them a family.

  “My mom and Jason were together for five years but never married. I remember her telling my grandmother once that they didn’t need a piece of paper to prove they loved each other. I think it was more about Jason keeping his options open.”

  “What happened?”

  “He cheated on her with some model, so she moved out. He said fine, go, but he wanted custody of Samara. She refused, so he threatened to sue. Then she told him Samara wasn’t his child.”

  “No? Whose was she?”

  “This guy Fiona met at a party while Jason was a
way on tour. I don’t think she even knew his name. They were only together one night. But it was enough.”

  “Jason demanded a blood test, which confirmed he wasn’t Samara’s bio-dad. After that, he wanted nothing to do with us. Samara was devastated. She was too young to understand all of it.”

  He frowned, his brow furrowed. “So were you.”

  “I know. But the walls were thin, so it was impossible to ignore.”

  “Did your sister see him after that?”

  “A couple of years later. Samara was seven, I was nine.”

  She closed her eyes, remembering the hot day. The melting ice cream cone she’d dropped on the path leading up to Cinderella’s castle.

  “We’d gone to an amusement park for Samara’s birthday, and he was there, with the model and their little girl. Samara ran toward him, screaming, ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ But he turned and walked away. Fiona tried to calm her down and convince her that it hadn’t been Jason. But it was.”

  “Does she know that this Jason was not her father?”

  “She does now. Fiona told her eventually because she thought it would help. But how much help is it to know that you resulted from a hook-up with some anonymous guy? Given Samara’s history of screwed up relationships, I have to think, not much.”

  “And that is why you avoid hook-ups. Or anything that looks like your mother’s life.”

  “Yes,” she said, quietly. “That’s why.”

  Loud pounding came from the apartment’s front door. They both sat up. Tabitha’s first thought was that Peter had discovered her whereabouts, but a voice shouted in Russian. She turned to Daniil. “Is it the police?”

  He spread his hands, baffled. He rolled from the bed, grabbed his pants and went to the door. Tabitha groped on the floor for her clothes, but realized she’d been out of them before reaching the bedroom. She jumped from the bed naked, gathering up items. In the middle of the living room, Daniil listened to the shouts, then said in a whisper, “Drug test team. I have to let them in. Hide in there.”

  Stark naked, she dashed into the bedroom closet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The men continued to shout through the front door.

  “Otkroy seychas, ili my soobshchim tebe o soprotivlenii!”

  Daniil’s manner was serious and respectful as he let them in. “Ne nado.”

  Tabitha watched through the louvered slats as two men in IADC jackets came into the bedroom. The procedure was the same, with consent forms and Daniil having to choose a specimen jar. But the attitude was different. Her testers had been polite, and professional. These men were harsh, their accusatory gestures impossible to miss. They treated Daniil as if he was guilty of something. The guy by the bathroom snapped an order. Daniil reached to unbutton his jeans. Tabitha closed her eyes, unable to watch.

  It seemed to take forever. Drawers were wrenched open and slammed shut. She peered through the slats as the man who hadn’t followed Daniil into the bathroom riffled through his suitcase. In the closet, she shivered. Even though it was freezing, she didn’t dare try to dress. They might hear her. She and Daniil had done nothing wrong, but how would it look if the men found her naked in the closet? Bad for Daniil. Bad for her.

  When Daniil came out of the bathroom, he shouted at the man searching his suitcase. More harsh words were exchanged. At last, the men left.

  Tabitha slipped into her panties and blouse and stepped from the closet. Daniil sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. She touched his shoulder. “They were horrible! I’ve never seen testers act like that. The woman who came to test me wanted my autograph for her niece.”

  Daniil looked up with flat, wounded eyes. His mouth twisted in a humorless smile. “That’s the difference between us. No one assumes the worst of you.”

  He rose from the bed and walked into the living room. She followed him. At the bar, he poured whiskey into a heavy glass. “Now do you want some?”

  “No thanks.” He was pulling away, when she wanted only to comfort him. This was as disturbing as what she just saw. Daniil dropped onto the black leather sofa and propped one bare foot against the glass coffee table. She sat down beside him. The leather upholstery was cold against her bare thighs. “What did they say to you?”

  “That because I took so long to answer, they should report me for resisting the test. When I told him he had no right to go through my things, he said why should I care if I have nothing to hide?”

  “You should report them. They were completely unprofessional.”

  “And who would listen?”

  “Your coaches!”

  He shook his head. “They’ve pushed against Bogdanov already. Still this continues.”

  She hugged her arms close to her body. Her thin silk blouse offered little protection from the chill in the air. Daniil, shirtless, seemed oblivious to the cold.

  “Why?” she asked, suspicion creeping into her voice.

  Anger flashed in his eyes as he looked up. “Why do you think?”

  Growing dread knotted in her stomach. Everyone was under pressure to win this season. Everyone knew there was cheating in their sport. Russia’s reputation for it was well-known.

  So was Daniil’s.

  He’d been suspended before, though not for PEDs. At least that was the official story. But if that was true why did Bogdanov have it in for him? And why was Daniil not willing to push harder to clear himself?

  Could it be because he was guilty?

  The men had treated Daniil like a suspect. His father was known as a ruthless man, and though Daniil insisted he was nothing like that, she had no way of knowing if it were true.

  As much as Tabitha tried to suppress the Fiona-like parts of her personality, it was impossible to wipe away all of them. Did Daniil also carry some of his father’s worst traits? He continued to take money from the man. Was his father’s support contingent upon winning? She pressed her lips together, not wanting to ask the question, but unable to ignore it.

  “Daniil? If you were doping, would you tell me the truth?”

  “So you suspect me too.” His voice was void of emotion.

  “No!” But she heard the doubt in her voice. And if she could hear it, so could he.

  “Then why do you hide us? And don’t use Brett as an excuse. You can respect his privacy without continuing to play his fake girlfriend. Who are you really protecting, Tabitha?”

  Heat rose in her cheeks. Brett had said the same thing. And she’d been the one to insist they continue the masquerade.

  His accusation cut to her heart. She covered her face with her hands, confronted by the awful truth.

  His cold gaze bore into her. “You just said that what Jason did changed how you see everything. You expect the same treatment from me. And why wouldn’t you if I’m as bad as everyone says? I cheat, I steal and if you get too close, I’ll drag you right down with me.”

  She wanted to tell him he was wrong. But more than once, she’d thought exactly that. “When I met you, every alarm was going off, but I ignored them. I saw that you were more than what everyone said.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have ignored those alarms.” His mouth twisted. “I’m destined to hurt you, Tabitha. It’s what I do. And I’m not worth the heartache.”

  His words twisted like a knife in her gut. “Don’t say that. I love you!”

  He flinched, as if she’d struck him. “For now. But we both know love doesn’t last. Tears and moving vans for you. For me, a mother who left me behind as a way to punish my father for his cheating.”

  She stared. “He told you that?”

  “I overheard our cook and maid talk about it. But it made sense. So from then on, I did everything I could to punish Nikolai.”

  He went to the bar and poured another drink, then returned, bottle in hand. He drained the glass in one gulp, then gestured with the empty tumbler at the spider web tattooed on his stomach. “I never told you what this one meant. It’s a prison tattoo. My prison isn’t a real one with bars
, but one I built for myself. Just as hard to escape.”

  She put her hand on his arm, desperate to bring him back from this black pit. “But you don’t have to stay there! You helped me find the courage to embrace who I am, to be someone new. Your love changed my life! Let my love help you change yours.”

  His gaze held hers, and for a moment, it seemed she’d reached him. But then anger and bitterness toward the family that had thrown him away, descended like a cloud, shutting her out. He pulled his arm back. “You make too much out of it. We had fun, and that was all. Best to end things before you regret it.”

  “That’s not what I want!”

  “But it’s what I want.”

  Tabitha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The words sliced like a knife, shredding her heart to ribbons. Her eyes flooded with tears at his cruel words and cold smile. She’d fallen in love with a man who didn’t love her. She’d fallen for his lies. How could she have been so stupid?

  But hadn’t she wondered the same thing about Fiona countless times? Who was Tabitha to think she was any more deserving of happiness?

  Numb, she rose from the sofa and returned to the bedroom. She dressed quickly, desperate to leave before her self-control shattered. Her mind raced, frantic to find the right words—any words—that might change his heart. But none came.

  The whole time they’d been together, she’d been looking for the reason it could never work between them. Now she knew. She’d never trusted him. He’d never loved her.

  Or had he? Was she so foolish and naïve to have misread him?

  She crossed the living room, and he was still in the same position she’d left him. The only thing different was that the whiskey bottle was empty, and his glass was full.

  She paused on her way to the door, standing just behind his shoulder. She wanted to touch him, but kept her hands close to her body. “I love you, Daniil, even if you don’t believe it. And somewhere in there, you love me. You say that you’re a liar and a cheat, and that you’re just like your father. Maybe in some ways, you are. But that isn’t who I see, and it’s not the man I gave my heart to.”