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“Not really. I don’t know if I can imagine my life without skating, without competing.” Her smile was ambivalent. “It’s not…it’s not that I love it, so much as that I need it. I have nothing else.”
She heard the sadness of that admission, knew how vulnerable it made her seem, but strangely, didn’t mind revealing that truth to him.
“What is the record you mentioned?”
She sipped the coffee, surprised by how much she liked the taste of the black liquid. “It’s something my mother was trying to do.” She said softly. “She only needed one more gold in the calendar year, but then, she found out she was pregnant with me and couldn’t continue competing. It’s too dangerous to skate while pregnant. Plus, her situation was frowned upon. She lost her place in the team, and her chance to skate professionally again.”
His eyes bore into hers. Mila hesitated for a moment. “She talked about it often. I know how much it meant to her. Even as a young girl, I swore I’d grow up to do this. That I’d win that gold, get the record she hadn’t been able to attain, because of me.”
He frowned at that; she barely noticed. “And you still feel the same way about it?”
“I want…” And out of nowhere, a lump formed in her throat. She swallowed past it. “I want…” Damn it! Her eyes stung with the threat of tears. It had been a long twenty four hours. She bit down on her lower lip, massaging it with her teeth. “When I skate,” she said after a beat. “I feel like she would be proud of me,” she said with a shake of her head, hating how much she’d admitted to him, hating her vulnerability when it came to her mother.
The silence in the room was heavy and she couldn’t meet his eyes at first, but after a moment, she lifted her gaze to his face, and saw something there that took her breath away: comprehension. He understood.
“And in order to win in October, you have to get back to training,” he said.
“Yes.” She nodded once, glad he’d focused on the practicalities. “My injury came at the worst possible time. This is when I should be perfecting my routine, finessing it.” She should have been more upset about that, but in truth, being here with Leonidas was a strange, delightful consolation. “I know I can get back on track,” she said with the steely determination she was famed for. “But it means heading back to train as soon as my physio signs off on my ankle. One more week,” she said with her fingers crossed visibly.
“It could be too dangerous.”
“I told you, I’ve lived with this threat for over a year.”
“But has he ever been as bold as he was last night?”
She shivered involuntarily. “I—no.”
“Those were angry words, Mila. You might have lived with a level of threat, but clearly, it’s escalating.”
He was right. He was speaking plainly, stating a fact. So why did anger surge inside of her? Not anger with Leonidas, but he was there—an easy target.
“So what would you have me do? Hide away here forever?” She demanded. “Pull the pin on my hopes, aspirations, dreams, on my life, because some sicko is stalking me? Do you really think I should let him do that to me?” It was exactly what had happened to her mother, she thought defiantly. Circumstances had derailed Mila’s mother’s life and dreams, and Mila couldn’t let that happen to her. Not for anything.
“It’s better than the alternative,” he said darkly.
Her lips parted. “Now you’re trying to scare me into submission?” She accused.
He made a muted growling sound then came to kneel before her, hands on her knees. “No. Damn it, Mila, I’m trying to get you to accept the reality of your circumstance. You cannot keep acting as though this doesn’t matter. I cannot believe you have continued to compete with this madman on your tail. I don’t know who your ‘team’ consists of, but clearly there is no one amongst them looking out for your best interests.”
“My ‘best interest’ is to win gold, at every competition I possibly can.” She stared him down, eyes unwavering, even when his met hers with just as much fierce determination.
“I can’t let this happen.”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
“You are now,” he said, standing, moving towards the tapestry and staring at it, his back to her. She had to twist in her seat to see him. “Someone has to fix this for you.”
“The police are–,”
“Ineffective, in this instance, apparently.”
“I refuse to hide out forever, and you can’t actually keep me here against my will.”
He turned to face her slowly, eyes probing hers, expression unreadable. A tingle of excitement danced down her vertebrae, then exploded in her stomach.
“Is that what I’d be doing?”
She opened her mouth to protest but he was moving towards her and a loud, screeching noise filled her ears as adrenalin and excitement rushed through her.
