The taxi driver was listening to pop music on the radio, singing along a little off-key. A particularly screechy high note pierced her absorption, and she grinned at Bohdan.
He smiled back. “Not a devotee?”
“The singer, maybe. Not so much her most ardent fan here.”
Bohdan was staring at her, his face lit like an old black-and-white movie, flickering as they passed the lights on the highway. “What did your mother mean about your sister?”
It had come. She had a choice to either shrug it off with something dismissive or tell the truth. The truth was ugly, yet she wanted him to know. She wanted him to know the real her rather than the oh-so-perfect high achiever everyone else saw. The girl who was trying to be her sister, because her sister was no longer around.
“Sue Lin.” Now that she’d made the decision to tell, it was impossible to know how to start. “She was older than me. I think I told you that.”
“Same age as Brady and Simon. Yes.”
“I hated her, and she died.” The words spewed out, accompanied by the rhythmic beat of one of the latest pop tunes. “I told her I wished she were dead. It was like I jinxed her.”
She sensed his physical withdrawal. Expected it. But it hurt all the same. Folding her arms, she shrank back into the corner, turning to watch the lights. They were nearly back in Gangneung. In a few minutes, they would be back at the athletes’ village and she could hide in her room.
His hand rested on her thigh. Even through the woolen coat, her body reacted. She fought against the melting response of her body, her leg stiff under his touch. He wouldn’t want her now.
“Belle?”
“What do you want?”
“I want the full story.”
“It’s hardly worth your time.”
“Tell me.” His voice was as insistent as his hand squeezing her leg.
The driver was still burbling along with some boy-band song, and he didn’t seem to speak much English. “It’s true. What I said. She was perfect. Everything I did, she did better. She was supposed to be the one going to the Olympics. She saw the Nagano Olympics and decided she was going to be a champion. She would have done it too. Except, she died.”
“How? How did she die?”
“I pushed her down the stairs at the ice rink.” There had been so much blood. Vivid red against the chalk-white of the powdered ice at the well-used rink.
The grip of his hand tightened almost to pain. He sucked in a breath. Even with the music playing, she heard it. “How old were you?”
“Seven.”
“I don’t understand. Just a fall? Did she break her neck?”
“No. It wasn’t the fall that killed her. She was badly bruised, and her nose bled. They had trouble stopping it. It was everywhere. The blood.”
It was easier now. The numbness was back. The numbness she’d carried around for all those months. Years. All she had to do was tell it like it happened. Bohdan didn’t really like her anyway. She had nothing to lose. Not really.
“It was something that happened afterward? As a result of the fall?”
“The bruises didn’t go away. They got worse. The nose bleeds got worse. And then she died. It took two years.”
The silence in the back of the car pressed down on her, slackening taut muscles, draining her strength. The radio was playing something she didn’t recognize, in a language she didn’t know. The taxi driver’s head was bobbing up and down to the beat as they waited at a traffic light. They were almost at the village.
Bohdan licked his lips, drawing her eyes to the shape of them. “Belle? Was it cancer? Leukemia?”
“Acute Myeloid Leukemia.”
“So that’s why . . . ” He stopped, his lips compressed, his gaze scanning her face. He expelled a breath, warm against her skin. “It wasn’t you who killed her.”
“It might as well have been. I wanted her to die. The hate was eating me up inside.”
“You were only seven.”
“I know. I didn’t know hate could kill.”
He was closer, wordlessly taking her in his arms. She let him hold her, but it didn’t touch her, not inside, where it was numb and cold.
His jaw brushed against her cheek. “It’s a terrible lesson to learn.”
It was like he knew. “In my head, I know it wasn’t me. But in my heart, I remember how I felt at the moment when I pushed her.”
• • •
Bohdan looked up as the taxi pulled into the village. It wasn’t the time or the place to go into this further. Tomorrow, they would be doing their team free program. She needed rest, but something about her demeanor disturbed him. She was passive in his hold. Limp. There was none of the electric charge he was used to combating when he touched her.
“We have arrived.”
She looked up, a dazed expression on her face. The light from the streetlamps caught sparkles glistening on her dark lashes.
Layno!
Handing a card to the driver, he dealt with the fare, half watching Belle climb from the vehicle with the stiffness of an old woman.
She didn’t flinch at the bite of the cold wind slapping sleet in her face. Just stood there. He bundled her inside, almost manhandling her into the elevator.
“What’s wrong with you, Belle?”
“Nothing.” Her hand rested lightly on the wall panel of the elevator. “I’ll be fine.”
He rode up with her to her floor and guided her to the door of the room she shared with Dani. There was no sign of the other girl. She was probably out with one of the guys. She’d been a little too eager to enjoy the freedom of being away from her parents. He didn’t care, but he knew Belle worried.
It explained a lot about her, now that he understood her past history. She let him undo her coat and hang it behind the door to dry.
“Are you okay to get changed? You need to get to bed.”
“Sure.” She slumped down on the bed, her hands lying palms up beside her knees. “I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look fine. Unless zombies were the norm. If she went into the competition like this tomorrow, they would never get through the routine. “Belle, listen to me.” He knelt on the thin carpet and held her hands. “You have to snap out of it.”
It was like it was a struggle to lift her eyes to meet his gaze. “I’m really all right. Just tired.”
“You were seven. It wasn’t anything you did.”
“I know. But I shouldn’t have hated her. Maybe it sent out bad vibes.”
“Why would you hate your sister?” He couldn’t imagine hating Marja. She had been a little bossy, being the older one, but he never hated her. Seeing Belle now, he was glad of that. One less guilt to carry after her death.
“You shouldn’t hate someone for being perfect, should you?” She freed her hands and reached behind her to undo the dress, pulling the top down.
He shut his eyes, shifting back to rest on his heels, trying to subdue the sudden urges of his body. She was broken, and he wanted to fix her. He couldn’t do that by having sex with her when she was vulnerable.
Could he?
He quelled the thought along with his unruly erection.
A rustle of clothing; it was probably safe to look. She had a baggy sweater pulled over her top half, and she was wiggling the dress down over her hips and thighs, letting it drop to the floor. She looked at him with narrowed eyes, a slight frown creasing her brow.
Her fingers were dragging at her necklace, the one with the two medallions.
“Why do you always wear that chain?”
She looked down at her fingers, as if hardly aware of what she was doing.
“Sue Lin gave me mine the last Christmas before she died. They were a set of two. For friendship. One for each of us. After she died, I put hers on the chain with mine.”
“It doesn’t sound like she blamed you for what happened.”
“She didn’t. That almost makes it worse.”
He could see that. Blame justified the guilt. A childish
view of the world and a black-and-white understanding of justice. “She sounds like a good sister.”
Her sigh came from deep in her chest.
“Sue Lin really was perfect. It all looked so effortless. Her schoolwork, her skating. She was popular with everyone. Mum and Dad were so proud. I wasn’t particularly good at anything back then. I didn’t concentrate. I wanted to do everything and ended up doing nothing well.”
“She was older than you. It is natural she was more skilled.” He kept his eyes on Belle’s face so he wouldn’t follow the action of her pulling up the sweatpants over her bare legs.
“I think I just wanted to be noticed. Sometimes it felt like I wasn’t there.”
“You acted out?”
She made a face. “You think?”
“And I suppose your parents said, ‘Why can’t you be like Sue Lin?’”
“Why can’t you be like Sue Lin.”
Her plaintive echo struck him to the heart. How he wished he could hear his parents say that one more time. He had been the youngest, and, like Belle, he had wanted to be noticed, be seen. He’d chosen a different path than his siblings, and it had taken him far away. Only, he had never believed it would mean never seeing them again. Their loss had left him homeless.
She touched him, a light brush of fingers across his forehead. “Why do you always frown? What do you think about?”
Family. But he couldn’t burden her with his grief tonight. She had enough of her own hidden away from the world under her permanent smile and bright chatter.
“Many things. Mostly, at the moment, tomorrow.”
She glanced at her watch. “It’s late.”
“Are you all right now?” She seemed better, more alive, even if still a little pale under her golden skin.
“I think so. I’m sorry if I was a bit flakey. I didn’t expect my mother to say anything. She usually doesn’t. I pretty much overreacted.”
He rose to his feet, flexing both legs to loosen the muscles. “I’ll leave you to it.”
She stood up, courteous as always, to see him out. “Thank you. I do feel better.”
Her face was tilted up, her eyes misty and her mouth soft. He bent to kiss her, tasting salt and sweetness on her lips. “I think I understand now why you care so much that people do not stay at odds.”
“You do?”
He grasped her chin. “But I still do not approve of too much interference.”
Belle’s smile was wry with a touch of sadness. “Perhaps I need you around to restrain my impulses.”
His own mouth curled in response. “Perhaps you do.”
Chapter 8
Bohdan had to stop himself from pacing the length of the residential lobby. He was already attracting attention from other athletes gathering for the transport pickup to the arena for the final team event. A good result today would set them up for the free-skating program, which was their best bet for a medal.
He released a long breath as Belle emerged from the elevator. She looked all right. Back to her usual self, chatting to one of her teammates. She smiled when she spotted him, her eyes lighting up in a way that tightened his throat. He’d had a crazy idea that if he knew her better, found out her faults, it would be easier to resist her. Last night’s revelations had triggered some kind of protective reflex. He hated to think of her hurting. How could she think what happened back then made her a bad person? She’d been a child. Now she seemed to consider it her duty to make sure no one else parted in anger.
“Are we ready to go?” She tucked her hand into his arm, leaving the other free to pull the case with their equipment. The bus deposited them at the arena, already filling with people keen to watch the morning’s program.
The team coach was waiting, and after a pep talk, they made their way through the maze of corridors to the change rooms. Bohdan’s costume was easy. Plain black pants and a loose blouson top in pastels to match Belle’s flowing skirt over a lavender leotard and flesh-toned stockings.
Together, they walked to the ice, hands linked. He’d almost pulled away, but a quick glance at her glowing face decided him. The communion of spirit would help them on the ice. It was an excuse. He acknowledged it. The important thing was to do well for the team. The feelings he would deal with after they had finished their part of the competition.
Their performance would be later in the field, having done well in the short program. His hopes rose as he watched the scores. “No surprises with any so far.”
Belle wrinkled her nose. “So long as we don’t get any nasty surprises ourselves.”
He pulled her against his side. “We are going to smash this. Every time, we get better.” Their rapport was growing. On the ice, anyway.
At last, it was their turn. He checked Belle’s laces while the previous contestants’ scores went up.
“Ready?”
She took his outstretched hand and followed him smoothly onto the ice. Her family was across the rink, with excellent seats down the front. It all faded as the music started. Her eyes met his as they faced each other in the starting pose. It was only the two of them, the music, and the ice. Each of the elements flowed, building up to the lifts and jumps. They landed the triple in perfect synch, which was almost magic considering their height disparity. Even before they did the final spin, he knew they’d nailed it.
The crowd went wild, the applause echoing around the arena as they made their way off the ice.
Breathless, Belle beamed across at her family as she waved in acknowledgment. It wouldn’t give Australia a team medal, but it would bring them higher in the placings and augured well for the individual events. He couldn’t help himself. He kissed her.
• • •
Belle headed for the dressing rooms at the practice rink still in the daze she’d floated in for the past forty-eight hours, since they’d earned almost perfect scores for the team event. And Bohdan had kissed her in front of everyone. Today’s efforts in the individual competition had put them into medal contention with an amazing score for the short program. The judges had loved the creative elements Bohdan introduced. They were skating together better than ever. And he had kissed her again. Not just a quick smack suitable for a teammate, a skating partner.
It was . . . like love. Soft, tender, with just a smidgen of passion. He, at least, had remembered the audience. She’d been totally lost. Not that it had changed anything away from the rink. Mr. Blow-Hot, Blow-Cold was still driving her crazy, and there was a permanent ache in her chest.
She slowed down as she recognized two figures ahead. More stupid men.
Something was definitely going down between Brady and Simon. Brady had the look of a bull terrier ready to take a bite out of the postman, and red-faced Simon was just plain angry. They shut up the moment she came into sight.
Men.
“S’up guys?”
Brady was all he-man, but Simon was frothing at the mouth. “Here’s your chance to apologize to Belle, Brady Thompson. Don’t be an ass about it, man.”
Simon was still het up about what had happened eight years ago? He needed to let it go. She had, mostly.
“What’s the go?” she asked Brady.
His mouth tightened, but he didn’t respond. Simon pushed forward. “For leaving you in the lurch. He ruined everything for you. You didn’t get to do any comps for over two years because of him.”
She glanced around, but the place was still empty. Everyone was out eating or prepping for the afternoon competition.
“Don’t rewrite history, Simon.” She turned to Brady. “Look. The writing was on the wall anyway. You’d grown six inches that last year. Coach McLaren had already said you might not be a good fit for partnering a shrimp like me once your growth spurt was over. Fair enough. And I was planning to ease back for a while after the Olympics so I could concentrate on doing my last year in school and start college.” She waved Simon to be quiet. “I was frustrated and angry when you quit only months before Vancouver. I understand why. I totally
got it. But there was no time to get another partner up to speed, so yes, it did stuff up my Olympic dream at that time.”
Brady hunched forward. “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry. You have to believe that.”
“Yes, you said so at the time. It didn’t make it any easier, but I got over it. I cried all the way through watching the Winter Olympics on television, and then I buckled down to school. What still makes me angry though, really angry, is the way you just cut us off. No calls, nothing. If you’d been on social media back in the day, I suppose you would have unfriended us. That’s what hurt. We were family. We were supposed to stick together. Did you even congratulate Simon when he got the bronze at Vancouver? The gold at Sochi? You couldn’t send a simple text. That was low, Brady.”
He had the grace to look ashamed. “Yeah.” He glanced at Simon. “Sorry, mate. Sorry I didn’t reply to you when you congratulated me either. I guess I didn’t know what to say.”
Belle sucked in a breath and huffed it out. “It’s not rocket science, Brady. You say congratulations, and you say thanks.” Her smartwatch pinged. “I have to go, or Bohdan will be on my tail. He wants to work out some stuff for tomorrow’s free dance.”
She spun around and headed down the hall. Brady’s low voice carried along the corridor. “Still a fucking princess, isn’t she?”
She heard Simon’s laughing agreement as she shot through the door. If they bonded over calling her a princess—not in a good way—that was fine. She was so over this whole not-talking thing. The guys had been friends all through high school. It wasn’t fair for Brady to take out his anger about what happened on Simon. Eight years. That was seriously messed up.
At least something had changed this time. The first time she’d seen them together here, Brady had acted like Simon was a leper. Now, they were at least conversing. Brady seemed softer. Which, all things considered, wasn’t saying much.
But she didn’t have time to wonder why. Bohdan stood at the practice rink, checking his watch. It would be nice if he would soften just a smidgen. The kisses had been a start. But then he’d turned into Mr. Icicle again, avoiding her outside practice. She sucked in a breath. Tomorrow was the competition that counted. All they had to do was keep their form and they would medal. So long as one of the other pairs on their tail didn’t pull something spectacular out of their leotards.
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