Delicate business, this ultra running. The struggle wasn’t just in getting her body to run through fatigue and pain, but also training her mind not to give in to its pulsing siren’s song for a break. The mind was harder to train than the body. A devious creature, always looking for a shortcut and easy way out.
She turned another bend and the route changed from a dirt trail to some kind of access road. Her feet kicked out behind her and put distance between her and Micah and his kindness. Despite how short she’d been with him, seeing him waiting for her had lifted her spirits, and now each step felt a little lighter. He seemed to believe in her. Not in the created, fake America’s Darling her, but in the Ruby who had given up both fake blood and fake hair to become the Ruby who was vulnerable and flawed—both things he seemed to appreciate rather than condemn. She settled back into the rhythm of her running, letting her thoughts on Micah distract her from the spreading fatigue in her legs and pull her back into the space in her mind where she loved running. So caught up was she in her mental push that she didn’t notice the man she’d gained ground on until she was even with him. A baseball cap blocked his eyes, but she saw the moment he recognized her in the sneer on his lips.
Then she heard, “Cheating bitch, you don’t belong here,” and his arm came out from his side. Fatigue and being caught between steps caused her to stumble as much as his strike did. She landed hard on her left foot, then took another step before the asphalt rushed at the side of her face.
To her surprise, she bounced the first time she hit the ground. The second time, the pain radiated through her eyes as her head hit. The piece of asphalt she landed on had been in the sun and was warm, much like the hand that had pushed her. She closed her eyes and hugged the warmth to her, but it did nothing to push the pain away.
“Hey! Are you okay?” The voice came through the smog of her mind in slow motion. She pictured the slow motion running scene from Chariots of Fire, and she suddenly giggled. Then she moaned as painful icicles stabbed her hip and ankle.
Please don’t let anything be broken.
Crouching above her was a young female runner with spiky black hair and deep brown eyes soft with concern. Ruby shifted, moaned again, then sat up. Her head lolled back and she swung her arms back behind her to steady her body before she fell over again. The woman put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. The hand was damp from sweat.
Ruby’s eyes hurt too much to keep them open, so she shut them, but they only hurt more. She opened them again. The front of her body looked okay. There was dirt on her running shorts and a nasty bit of road rash on the side of her knee, but otherwise she looked whole. She wiggled her toes, and her toenails hit against her socks and the tips of her shoes like they should. She swayed her feet from side to side and her ankles seemed to work, too. She ached, but there wasn’t any spiking pain.
“I think I’m okay.” Her head was still crowded with the thick cotton of cheap running socks, but the pain behind her eyes wasn’t enough to make her wince when she gave her head a slight shake. She tucked her legs under her so that she sat cross-legged, pushed herself up off her hands and leaned forward.
“Do you see stars? Are you dizzy at all?”
Ruby gave her head a tentative nod, then a shake. “I was dizzy when I first sat up, but I’m okay now. No stars.”
“Headache?”
“Yes, but I did get pushed and hit the ground. It’s no worse than I would expect.”
“Ears ringing? Nausea?”
“No.” Ruby waited a moment to see if her stomach rolled. It didn’t. “And no.”
“Fatigue?”
Not enough that Ruby didn’t give her rescuer a dirty look.
“Fair enough,” the woman said. “Just checking you for concussion symptoms. Do you need me to check your ankles?”
Ruby stuck her legs out in front of her again and gave everything a wiggle before answering, “No. I’m okay.”
The woman stood, offered her hand and hauled Ruby to her feet. While Ruby shook out her limbs and ran her hands over her body checking for any other damage, the other runner put her hand on Ruby’s back and waited. She didn’t take it off until Ruby said, “No, really, I’m fine,” with the full force of her voice.
“Can you run?” the woman asked.
Ruby took a hesitant step forward. “I think...maybe if I walk a bit first.”
“I’ll walk with you.” They took small, slow steps together. “I’m Patrice, by the way.”
“Ruby Heart,” she said, feeling it was a risk even though her name was on the roster of runners. Patrice had already helped her up off the ground. She was unlikely to push her over now.
* * *
MICAH WASN’T LISTENING as the man next to him explained a miracle cure for spinal cord injuries. Normally he didn’t put up with such intrusive comments from strangers, but he and Amir had a prime spot to view the finish line of the race, and they weren’t willing to give it up, even at the cost of Micah’s sanity or jail time for assault.
Ruby was late. He drummed his fingers against the wheel of his chair, the noise barely making a dent in the onslaught of miracle cures from his newfound friend. Even accounting for a change in pace due to the increased length of this race, she was still thirty minutes late. She’d been dead-on for time at the aid station. After he’d harassed race officials several times, even trading on his NSN credentials—which he almost never did—they told him the only runner found in need of rescue so far had been a man. Ruby was built strong and powerful, but no one would mistake her for being a man.
So why hadn’t she finished yet? He drummed his fingers harder, letting the clings of his nails against the metal drown out his neighbor’s nonsense about a disk and some sort of magical fluid. Over the years, other people’s obsession with fixing him had grown more annoying than the fact that he couldn’t use his legs. Easier for people to assume Micah needed to be fixed than to bother rethinking their own assumptions.
The man had started talking about the benefits of turmeric for inflammation when Micah’s post at the finish line paid off. He signaled to Amir, who signaled back that he was getting the video. Rounding the corner was Ruby, her braided pigtails bouncing against her collarbone and her bangs plastered against her forehead. Her face was flushed red, but her eyes were bright and Micah didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see her.
The man was midstream into his turmeric lecture when Micah put his hands on his wheels and took off toward Ruby, darting through the small crowds of supporters and runners until he was at her side. Heat radiated off her body and she smelled like salt, which would probably turn sour after she’d started to cool off, but he was so relieved to see her that he didn’t care. Conflict of interest, cheating and scandal be damned, Micah wanted to reach up, grab her face between his hands and pull her in for a kiss. A warm, salty, sweaty, celebratory kiss.
When she caught his eye, she smiled softly. Micah’s shoulders relaxed, but his mind raced with ideas of what he could do to and for and with a hot, sweaty woman in bed. She had long, lean, strong muscles, and the image of them wrapped around him was imprinted permanently in his brain.
He loved her. The realization slammed into him and he had to grab on to the wheels of his chair to stay balanced.
She reached out a hand to him. Her palm was rougher than normal, and when he squeezed it, she winced. Only then did he notice that her hand was scraped. Not badly, but she’d clearly skidded across some asphalt on it. When he looked her over more carefully, he found road rash on the side of her legs and on both her knees. And a bruise was beginning to form on her cheek, under a spot of blood.
The heat rising in his body this time wasn’t sexual attraction, it was anger, which boiled away the icy cold fear that he’d felt before.
“What happened?” he asked, certain he knew the answer.
She was
hunched, likely in both fatigue and pain, and he almost missed the way her eyes darted about. He steeled himself for the lie.
“I caught up to some guy after the aid station and he pushed me.”
If she was going to lie to him, he’d expected her to make up something better. “Just some guy? You don’t know who he was or what he looked like? Did you tell race officials?”
“I don’t know anything more about him and, no, I didn’t tell race officials. I don’t want some guy pushing me to be the story of my race.” She pulled away from him, limping around and looking for a chair. A spectator hopped out of a camp chair and gestured to her. She half sat, half collapsed into it. “I was running along, fully into my rhythm when I came up behind him. He looked at me, knew who I was and stuck his arm out. I don’t think he meant for me to go down.”
“It doesn’t matter....”
But Ruby was too far into her story to listen to him. “Another runner stopped to help me up. Patrice. I’d like to wait for her actually.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, turning her face to him to say, “Can you get me some food?”
He looked around him. The aid station wasn’t far away, and Ruby needed food more than he needed to argue with her. “You’ll promise to talk to race officials after you tell me everything?”
Apparently she was too tired to argue.
On his way to the food, Micah stopped to tell Amir to get them some satellite time. Ruby getting hurt was big news; they would have to use a quick segment on SportsDaily to tease about the upcoming series—and Ruby would have to be talked into it. He returned with a plate full of boiled potatoes, guacamole, jelly beans and a banana, as well as a couple of bottles of water and a beer.
“You know I have to get a story ready for SportsDaily. Right after you tell the race officials what happened.”
Ruby glared at him, a mess of everything that had been on her plate piled onto a fork and about to go into her mouth. Guacamole mixed with jelly beans sounded nasty, but he supposed his body wasn’t the one craving sugar and salt in any form available.
“I shouldn’t have told you.”
“I’m interested to hear how you would have kept the bruises on your face from me.”
She took a big bite of her postrace food and shrugged. She must have gotten a guac-covered jelly bean, because her shrug was quickly followed by a grimace. “What happened to me keeping a low profile?”
“You’re the one who registered for the race as Ruby Heart.”
“This had nothing to do with how I registered my name. I surprised the guy and he reacted.” Her adrenaline must be wearing off. Even though she kept shoveling food into her mouth, her movements slowed down to a precise crawl.
“You said another runner stopped to help you? Do you think that runner is going to be able to keep your accident a secret? Tell the officials. And then it’s either I run the story now or another news station knocks on your door.”
“Those are my choices? Either I give in to you now or I give in to another station later? Those are terrible choices. Let’s go with your original plan of running the series all at once rather than feeding them bits of my story one piece at a time. I liked that idea better.”
“That idea isn’t an option any longer.”
“What if I don’t give you more detail? You have all that video you can use and I can just sit here in mute protest.”
“Come on, Ruby.” He held out his hands in supplication. “Don’t make me choose between my career and you.
“Fine.” She put her plate on the ground and shivered. “Go get a race official. I’ll even answer some questions for you. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
She was only agreeing because she was too tired to argue, but Micah wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. In this case, he was going to get his interview with the horse while she was still willing to talk. “I’ll grab your gym bag with your warm clothes when I get Amir.”
Ruby managed to put on her warm clothes while talking to a race official and without standing fully upright while Amir set up for the interview. Once they got it going, the interview was short. Ruby told him the same thing she’d told the official—which wasn’t much—and she was too fatigued to put much energy into her story. Not that he blamed her; she hadn’t even had an hour to rest after running fifty miles. At least Amir had gotten good video, and the story would be compelling.
He had to get this video done and in before some other network, even a Podunk local network, sniffed out the story. Otherwise Dexter would have his head for dinner.
Before he went back to the van to track the interview and log any sound bites, Micah rolled closer to Ruby and rested his hand on her knee. “I’ll take you back to the hotel now if you want.”
“No.” He blinked away surprise at her answer. She’d completely disappeared from the two previous races, heading to the hotel as soon as she could catch a shuttle bus. “I’m going to wait for Patrice to finish. In fact,” she said, easing out of the chair, “I’m going to get up and walk around a little before I cramp up, and then you can find me at the finish.”
After Ruby dismissed him, Micah wrinkled his nose and looked over at Amir, who shrugged. Micah made his way to the production van to get his part of the story ready as quickly as possible.
He’d asked her not to make him choose between her and his job and she hadn’t. She was letting him alone.
So why did he feel like such a shit?
* * *
RUBY WAITED AT the finish for Patrice, shifting her weight from side to side, trying to walk a line between her fatigue and keeping her body from losing heat too rapidly and cramping. She was already stiff, and walking was an idea best approached with caution and undertaken gingerly.
She didn’t wait alone, and that wasn’t a metaphorical statement, either. Both finishers and supporters stood around the finish with her. And the fact of her existence at the race had spread quickly from the thirty-mile mark where she’d left Patrice to the bright sign flashing Finish and the time of each runner as they crossed under the line. Several people had come up to her, asked her if she really was Ruby Heart, made a noncommittal noise of some kind and left. One person had told her that she outright didn’t belong here. She didn’t see the guy who’d pushed her, though she also wasn’t sure if she’d recognize him if she did.
Much to Ruby’s surprise, the top female finisher welcomed her back to the sport and said she was looking forward to the added competition. If the other woman had meant to leave the don’t cheat again, you cheater heard but unspoken, she hadn’t expressed herself very well.
Ruby shoved jelly beans and gummy bears into her mouth, letting the sugar drip down as she mulled over what she’d set herself up for. Micah had offered to help her minimize the impact of her identity until the big, hopefully sympathetic story aired. And she’d turned him down, saying she was ready for whatever happened. And then that guy had happened. How many people watching the short interview she’d done with Micah would think, “bitch got what she deserved”? Do I care?
The production van was barely visible through the crowds and the trees. She could make it over there and ask to review Micah’s script to make sure she came off well. Or she could continue to stand at the finish and cheer as loud as her tired voice would let her when Patrice came into view. Ruby made her way through the spectators for another plate of food—this time less candy—and returned to the finish to wait for Patrice.
When Patrice came into view, her feet were dragging and she was moving barely faster than a walk, but Ruby rushed to the fencing and yelled as loud as if her rescuer was crossing the finish in an Olympic stadium. Patrice was half enveloped, half held up by a dark-skinned man dressed as though he’d also run the race, a young girl and an older woman, who looked enough like Patrice that she had to be Patrice’s mom.
The family, except for Patrice and her husband, who both looked too tired to contemplate anything but a nap, jumped up and down in celebration. Ruby hung back, the loneliness she’d kept at bay walloping her on the back. Again she was alone at the finish. Micah was here, but he was off finishing his story on her. He wasn’t here with her.
She scrubbed at her face with the heel of her hand, trying to press reality into her brain. Micah had asked her not to make him choose between his career and her. She’d done the interview. He was with Amir getting it ready to air, as was his job. For her to be cranky about it after she’d said it was okay was unfair of her.
Not to mention that she’d insisted she was running for her and no one else. Which should mean she didn’t need anyone else at the finish with her. That didn’t mean she didn’t want someone here at the finish with her. Or that she didn’t want that person to be Micah.
Just as she was about to turn away from Patrice and her family, Ruby heard a noise behind her. Micah was rolling toward her, his face suspiciously clean and fresh. Only when she saw a lingering bit of foundation on his chin did she realize that he’d been on camera and so had had on makeup.
“Story done?” she asked, tamping down any irritation still lingering within her. You’re running for yourself, remember. Micah’s a nice bonus.
“Amir’s got it for cuts now and we feed it to the bird at five.” She must have looked confused, because he added, “The satellite. The video is scheduled for satellite at five to get it to the station.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“It’ll be on tonight and tomorrow morning’s SportsDaily. It was good. You looked really strong in the video.”
Strong was good, but did she look forgivable? Not that it mattered. That story was out of her control. Running was the only thing in her control.
Out of the corner of her eye Ruby saw Patrice pull away from her family and limp toward her. The woman was stiffening up fast and looked as though she would be incredibly sore in the morning.
Winning Ruby Heart Page 18