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“I swear to god. I’m gonna kill you, prick.”
“Are you? Do it then. I mean, you’ve already failed to deliver on your promises to Marissa. You might as well become a killer too. I don’t think she’ll stay single while you serve your life sentence. Do you?”
I bring my leg up and slam my knee into his nuts, and he cries out.
“Yeah, I’m not gonna kill you. I’m gonna find out how you did this and have you stripped of your medals and publicly humiliated. Then, if I don’t feel a sense of satisfaction, I’ll find you on the street and beat you bloody.”
I release him and he drops to his knees, cradling his bruised package in his hands.
If he can bribe a timekeeper to fuck Marissa over, I can offer the timekeeper more money to come clean. I have the means to set the guy up so he doesn’t have to worry about being fired. Hell, I can make it so he never has to work again.
All I have to do is find out which one it is, but with no access to the stadium, I don’t know how I can do that. I mull over the options as I ride the elevator back to our floor. As the bell chimes and the doors open, it hits me.
The official Olympic website. There’s a whole page dedicated to the staff. That’s where I’ll start.
13
MARISSA
I tell myself that I have to accept this outcome no matter how unfair it all seems.
Maybe Andrika and Malcolm are wrong. Maybe I was twenty seconds slower than Maria Chan. When my father called to congratulate me, he didn’t seem to think that anything strange had happened during the race. He told me exactly what I would have expected to hear from him.
He said I must have buckled under the pressure and the bronze is perfectly acceptable for your first time in the big leagues. He reminded me that I’m still young enough to compete in at least three more Olympics before I retire. As if he thinks I’ll need four tries to finally get it right.
I stare at myself in the mirror and take a deep breath. This is it. In just a few hours, the world will see me standing on those blocks, receiving my third-place medal. As I exit the bathroom, I see Malcolm standing near the room door holding a bouquet. I smile and say, “That’s the second time you’ve given me roses. I might start to expect it.”
“You should. I’ll buy you a fresh batch every day if you want me to.”
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“Are you alright, baby girl?”
“I could be better but I’m okay. I just want to get this over with and move on.”
“I can’t stand seeing you upset. I promise you I’m going to fix this.”
“I don’t think you can. Besides, I’m not upset for me. I’m upset for you. You did so much to get me here, and I failed you.”
“What? You didn’t. I’m telling you you won that race, and soon, I’m going to prove it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just am. I have some information now that proves it. All I have to do is convince the committee, and you’ll have what’s rightfully yours. Do you trust me, little girl?”
“Of course, I trust you. After everything, how could I not?”
“Good, so this is how things are going to go. First, I’m going to make love to you. Then, you’re going to go to the ceremony. While you’re there, I’m gonna fix this. I promise.”
It’s been days since I felt him inside me, and I think I’m more excited about that than anything else he said. I unzip my warm-up jacket and drop it on the floor.
“That’s a good start. Now, the rest, little girl.”
I strip down naked and stand here waiting for him to take me to bed. He picks me up in his arms and gently lays me down to watch him undress. He takes me with such gentleness and attention that I feel like the most cherished girl in the world.
Do I believe he can fix things for me? I have no choice but to believe him. In my eyes, he can do anything. He’s the strongest, bravest, and smartest man I’ve ever met.
Since Malcolm has been banned from the arena, he drops me off at the gates where a security guard helps me into a golf cart to take me the rest of the way. I look back at Malcolm as the gates close and a terrible sense of loneliness washes over me.
I’ve never felt so disconnected from him before. I put on my best smile. It’s the one we learn early in our athletic careers. It says, “I’m not a sore loser. The best person won.”
I’ve only had to use it a few times before, but today is the first time that it’s just a mask devoid of feeling. I know I won this thing, and there’s nothing I can do to change how I feel about that.
