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Then he tutted disapprovingly. “Your own mother. That’s very sad.”
“Yes. I wish it hadn’t been that way, but…” I shrugged in a “what can you do?” gesture. “The only thing I could control was how I handled it. I was scared that if I used my real name in the skating world, she’d realize where I’d gone and track me down. The last thing I wanted was to be found.”
The interviewer’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry that the recent news coverage may have made you feel as if you had to reveal all this now.”
I shook my head. “It was bound to come out now that I’m competing on this level. I realized that I can’t keep pursuing my dreams if I’m letting my fear of my mother hold me back. I just hope that whatever fans I have will support me in carving out my own, new life for myself.”
“I’m sure they will,” he said softly. “You mentioned criminal connections. Do you believe the recent incidents here in Tokyo have had something to do with your mother?”
“I can’t say for sure.” Which didn’t mean I didn’t know, only that I wasn’t willing to admit it, but most people would assume I meant the former. “If either of them has been, I’m so sorry for any trouble that’s been caused because of my family’s associations. That’s actually—there was a statement I’d like to make, if that’s okay.”
The interviewer swept his hand toward the main camera. “Go ahead, Miss Garcia.”
I lifted my chin and gazed straight at the lens. My pulse kicked up another notch, but I focused on the idea of the people watching, the people I meant to speak to—every person in and involved with the Devil’s Dozen, including Mom.
“I have no stake in anything my mother is doing these days,” I said, firm and clear but allowing a trace of a quaver to come into my voice. I needed a hint of vulnerability for the benefit of the regular audience I wanted on my side. “I have no interest in any of her activities. All I want to do is skate—that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Everything in my life is focused on my sport now.”
I gulped another breath and continued. “So if anyone is trying to target me or other parts of the skating world because of who she is or things she’s done, it won’t get you what you want. You’re coming after the wrong people. Please, whatever you’re looking for, leave us out of it. It’s got nothing to do with me and my colleagues.”
I finished with a bob of my head that I’d learned from watching graceful Japanese interviewees on similar programs. My mouth felt like it was coated in ashes.
Please, let those words be enough. Please, let everyone believe them.
“That was a very impassioned plea, Miss Garcia,” the interviewer said. “Thank you again for opening up with us today.”
I aimed my smile at him again. “It was my pleasure. I hope it does some good.”
When the cameras cut for a break, the interviewer stood again to see me off, with a brief bow of his own. I managed to walk off the set steadily, but my legs felt like jelly.
The same woman who’d motioned me on led me to the room reserved for guests and their entourage. My men hustled over as soon as I stepped inside.
“We saw the whole thing,” Jasper said, pointing to the TV mounted on the wall. “You were fantastic.”
Quentin had his phone out, his finger swiping across the screen as he scrolled down a webpage. “People are already posting about the interview all over the internet. Lots of sympathetic comments. Seems like you won the regular folk over, at least, Upstart.”
A laugh of relief slipped out of me. “Let’s just hope it makes the right impact on the less regular viewers I’m hoping will see it.”
Niko waved his own phone. “I’ve already been talking with the Tokyo police force. They’re going to assign officers to keep us under protection—for the next couple of days while the story breaks, and possibly longer if it seems necessary.”
My next laugh was rougher. “I guess that buys us a little security if the wrong peopledotake it the wrong way.”
I’d played the hand I’d been given as well as I could. Would it be enough to get the Devil’s Dozen off our backs?
NINE
Luciana
As we walkedthrough the new arena to the edge of the rink, my skin itched with the impression of stares. This was the place in Tokyo where several of the other World Championship skaters had been training, a more prominent spot we’d felt we needed to accept now that we had so much more media attention aimed at us.
Mostly at me. I sat down on a bench to dig out my skates, trying not to think about the fact that the handful of skaters already on the ice no doubt were aware of all my dirty laundry now. Who knew what they thought of the newcomer who’d admitted to bringing chaos into their midst?
Or about the police escort my confession had earned me. Two officers had followed us in and stationed themselves in the low area of stands to keep watch.
I tightened my laces with hasty tugs. “Did we have to come during a freestyle session?”
Niko grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t get us in for any private slots until next week—and only a couple that week as it is. We’ll have to mostly keep training at the other arena. But showing our faces here will mean fewer questions overall.”
It made me more visible, but if anyone wanted to attack me, maybe showing up here would make them less inclined to go searching for my other training location. I could hope, at least.
