Chapter 25
twenty-five
“I ’m here.” Rosalyn hurried into the back of the ring and stood next to Owen, her heart rate skyrocketing. Her hands shook. Save her life? What had Blaine meant?
The colored stripes on the tent blurred into a solid sheet of red. Was Miley doing stand-up comedy? Or maybe she was hallucinating. She blinked and swayed a little.
“Rosalyn!” Owen turned and gestured for Miley to wrap it up. He touched Rosalyn’s arm, slick with sweat. Oh no. She needed more rosin.
He peered into her eyes with his overly made-up ones. “Are you okay?”
She tried to nod in the affirmative. No . Blaine had gotten in her head. If they can’t find you, they’ll find someone you care about. He’d snorted. At least now I know that won’t be me.
Then he’d walked away. A power move meant to make her run after him. And she’d wanted to. Was the Mafia here ? Had he not cleared it for her to have more time on her payments?
Had he set her up again?
Her stomach roiled. What if they found her parents? Put them in danger…or Cade. Or any of her friends here she’d been seen around the Bay with the past few weeks.
Cade…they still hadn’t talked. Her heart hurt. She was mad. Scared. Ashamed.
And Blaine was right. She’d brought all this on herself.
Rosalyn struggled for a sufficient breath. She had to pull it together, get through the next two nights, then she could go…away. The fewer people involved now, the better.
She cast a look across the stands, but who was she even looking for? Not like she would recognize anyone out to harm her.
“Do you need another minute?” Owen frowned at her.
There was no more time. The scout was waiting, she had to be perfect. She shook her head in reply and the tent spun. Oh no. This was just like before.
Like in Saudi Arabia.
“…with no further ado…Rosalyn Dupree!”
Wait. Owen had already announced her again? She blinked. The audience began to clap and cheer.
She started for her silks, her heart hammering as she grasped the fabric and positioned herself for the opening notes. She fought to focus as she waited for the music to begin. But her thoughts raced along with her erratic heartbeat. Flashes from Saudi Arabia.
This was different. She was on US soil. She was safe.
Was Cade even here ?
The music sounded and Rosalyn mounted the silks. She flipped into a hip key rollup, then began a strategic climb for her split balance. Her arms shook.
She’d never gotten a fresh coat of rosin.
The song soared and she maneuvered into the splits, squeezing her core as she pointed her toes. Just in time, she remembered to be graceful. To smile.
To pretend like her world wasn’t crashing around her.
As the music shifted in tempo, she started setting up an S-wrap, inverting before tucking the fabric around her waist and behind her back. She flipped the other direction and gripped her silks, arching her back and stretching her legs. She hadn’t performed the wheel down drop last night, but it’d be easier on her sore muscles than the other drop from yesterday.
Her palms sweated as she completed the last wrap. Her vision blurred.
No. Not now.
Rosalyn held steady toward the top of the rig and waited for the song to reach its crescendo, trying to ignore the myriad thoughts running rampant. Trying to channel the adrenaline, make it work for her instead of against her.
Trying not to let the fear take control. History didn’t have to repeat itself. She would be fine.
Then suddenly, there was Cade. Standing near the first row of risers to her left, looking up at her, his brow furrowed. He was here.
But what was he thinking? Was he mad at her? Mad about throwing off the show schedule in front of the scout?
His presence had brought her comfort last night, but now, she had none. She couldn’t read him, could barely even see him through the panic taking control. She blinked.
The chord she’d been waiting for sounded. Rosalyn released the fabric on cue and spun like a pinwheel down the length of the silks, unwrapping a layer with every turn.
Too many layers.
Something was wrong.
Her heart thudded.
The fabric should have grabbed her by now, hitching around her waist and jerking her back with an intensity that often left a bruise.
But there was no more fabric.
She was falling.
Again.
The music distorted in her ears. The tent blurred. Someone screamed.
Rosalyn reached out and grasped the air, fingers clawing as they finally hooked onto one of the poles. She clung, digging in her fingers as gravity took over. Which way was up? She rotated another full spin and caught the second pole as she braced for impact.
She collapsed onto the mat.
* * *
Cade leaped over the short wall separating the ring from the first section. He landed on the ring floor, charging toward Rosalyn before fully regaining his balance. His thoughts churned with his feet, fears keeping rhythm with the pounding of his heart. No. No. No.
“Rosalyn!” He pushed past Owen, who shouted into the crowd to call an ambulance. Linc and Miley immediately went to work holding back the curious audience from surging forward. Someone shouted for a nurse.
“Are you okay?” Cade dropped to his knees beside Rosalyn, taking her hand. He was afraid to touch anything else. Her eyes fluttered open.
More shouts sounded behind him, but he refused to take his gaze off her face. Her eyes closed again, her complexion pale against her black leotard. Glitter shimmered in her hair. But her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. Thank You, God.
He squeezed her palm. “Can you hear me?”
She pulled in a deeper breath and fully opened her eyes. They blinked, then widened with panic, and she tried to sit up.
“No, don’t move!” Cade gently pressed against her shoulders. “You fell. We’re waiting on the paramedics.” Thank God again he’d insisted on the crash mat. Worry weighed him down, until all he wanted was to collapse next to her.
That’d been close. Too close.
“I think I’m okay.” Rosalyn gingerly rotated her neck, then shook each of her arms. “You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here.” Cade eased back to give her space as she sat up, cast a look over his shoulder. August Bowman and Noah had joined Linc and Miley’s efforts in crowd control, alongside Elisa’s father, Isaac Bergeron. Even Mama D stood guard, waving her cane in warning. It seemed to be working. The ring was empty, save for Owen still pacing on his cell phone and barking a demand for an ambulance.
He twisted back to Rosalyn. “I think you should wait for a professional before you get up.”
“I caught a lot of my weight before I hit the ground.” Rosalyn flexed her feet and winced as she slowly stood. He grasped her arms, supporting her. “My knee is a little tight.”
Why did she keep staring past him into the stands? Was she looking for Blaine?
Regardless—“Rosalyn…I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll be okay, I promise.” She hadn’t let go of his arms, which was good, because he didn’t want to let go of her either.
His eyes roamed her tear-streaked face. If something had happened to her, with this mess still between them…He swallowed. “No, I mean, for last night?—”
“Miss, are you okay?” Captain Sanders from the fire department stepped toward Rosalyn. A paramedic carrying a black medical bag followed close behind. “They said you fell.”
Rosalyn wiped her eyes, stepping away from Cade. “I’m fine.”
His arms immediately felt empty, the air between them, still charged. Had she heard his apology? Accepted it?
“With all due respect, ma’am, you don’t look fine.” Captain gestured toward the bag. “Let me run some vitals, okay?”
Before she could protest, Sanders ushered Rosalyn toward the stands to sit down. Cade cast a look over their heads, up the risers to the seats where Trent had been sitting. Empty. Not surprising, seeing how people cleared out upon realizing the show was definitely not going to go on.
Of all the nights. He watched as the captain examined Rosalyn’s eyes with a small flashlight. Maybe she would be ready to talk after the exam, finally hear him. Forgive him. Maybe Trent and his boss would be outside waiting to talk, and they would be impressed with what they did see.
Maybe this night could still turn around.
“Hey.” Noah crossed the ring to Cade, his face grave beneath the rim of his ball cap. “Is she okay?”
“I think so.” Cade looked back at Rosalyn, who was clearly protesting the rest of the exam. The paramedic standing next to Sanders planted his hands on his hips and pointed out something Cade couldn’t fully catch about “falling ten feet.”
“She was just shaken.”
“I would be too. I think we all are, watching that.” Noah shook his head. “I’ll have nightmares.”
“No kidding.” Cade’s heart still throbbed with residual panic.
And worry that they still hadn’t resolved things between them. He watched as Captain Sanders snatched his walkie-talkie from his belt and held it to his ear. Then he dropped the oxygen meter back into the medical bag and exchanged quick words with the paramedic. They grabbed their gear and rushed off, leaving Rosalyn alone on the risers.
Strange. Cade stepped forward. Maybe now that she’d had a short break and time to catch her breath, she’d listen to him. He could tell her the whole story about her financials, convince her to stay in town a few more weeks. Rest.
Reconnect.
“Cade.” Owen huffed up behind him, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees. His theater makeup had smeared dark circles under his eyes. “You’ve got to come right now.” His mouth pinched into a grim line. “There’s an emergency.”