Page 6 of Tracing Her Stolen Identity (Secure Watch #2)
A FTER THE PLATES were cleared and loaded into the dishwasher, Reece checked the house’s perimeter using infrared cameras.
Satisfied that everything was quiet, he turned to Skylar, who was sitting in her chair staring at a book.
Reading it wasn’t an accurate description, as she hadn’t flipped a page in ten minutes.
She was despondent, and as much as he wanted to comfort her, he had to stay hands-off.
Skylar was a dream of his that he couldn’t shake even though he knew he could never have her.
It had taken him years to understand that, even if he didn’t fully accept it yet.
It was his penance, though, and he was glad she’d made him pay it.
It was his fault she was in the chair. That was something he could never change.
If he could get a redo on that night, he would, but that wasn’t how life worked.
It didn’t let you see your mistakes and then allow you not to make them.
You made them, lived the consequences and learned not to do them again.
Only he wasn’t the one living with the consequences of this particular mistake.
Skylar was. That was the hardest part to accept.
He should be in that chair, and he would trade places with her in a heartbeat if life worked that way.
“Ready to call Secure Watch?” he asked, leaning forward on his thighs.
The look on her face when she lifted her head gave him the answer. “Not until we talk about this.”
“Talk about what?”
“This,” she said, motioning between them. “You saying two words at a time to me and the grimace on your face every time you look at the chair.”
“I’m worried about you. That’s all,” he answered, forcing himself not to react negatively to her observations. That would only prove her right.
“You’re beating yourself up for an accident that was just that. An accident.”
“I shouldn’t have let you fall.”
“Should have, could have, would have mean nothing in life, Reece.”
With his lips held tightly together, he forced himself to hold her gaze, to let her see the shame he carried in his eyes for the things that had happened that night.
The air was electric as the cheer teams lined up on the sidelines.
They’d made it to the finals, which meant everything had come down to one last routine.
It was their senior year, the last year they could compete, and Skylar dreamed of going to a Big Ten school for cheer.
Reece wanted to give her that. He grabbed her hand and ran onto the field, lining up with the rest of the team.
“We’re in a position to play it safe,” she yelled over the crowd. As the team captain, Skylar called the shots on the field after talking to the coach. “Let’s do a double backflip lift into a cupie, transition into a scorpion and finish with a toe touch catch!”
Reece nodded. They had perfected that routine this year.
He spread the word down the line so the bases and spotters knew what to do along with the other top girls.
They’d been working on a new triple back flip into an extended lift followed by another flip to land it.
He was glad she hadn’t suggested that one.
They hadn’t perfected it yet, but Skylar never cared about perfect.
She cared about wowing the crowd, so he was glad she was willing to keep it simple tonight.
His arm was sore from the last few practices, and the last thing he wanted to do was pull a muscle and accidentally drop her.
The announcer called them out to the cheers of the crowd.
They were always a favorite in the Northwood competitions and had supportive fans packing the stands.
The music started, and the team moved into their positions, spotters in place as Skylar started her backflip.
She hit the mark, and he lifted her into the cupie pose, where she preened for the crowd as they hooted and whistled, chant ing her name.
He took a step back and planted his foot, a sign that he was ready for her to move into the scorpion, where she’d bring her left foot up to her head and hold it—not an easy move on the ground, much less balanced on his hands.
After hitting her mark, he pushed her up into the air, her legs coming out in a V as she touched her toes.
His head was up and he was ready to catch her, his arms out with spotters on each side.
Then he sailed to the left, landing in a pile of bodies without the girl of his dreams in his arms. Screaming. Who was screaming?
“Reece!” Skylar’s exclamation was sharp, and he snapped back to the present, blinking twice before he could even think about swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. She rolled the chair toward him. “Are you back?”
He wasn’t sure he could speak, so he nodded and hoped she wouldn’t notice that his hands shook where they sat on his lap. When she took one in her hands, he knew that hope had been dashed.
“Does that happen every time you think about the accident?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Sometimes I scream your name until I wake up in a cold sweat.” He smiled and winked as if that had been a joke, but it wasn’t. The nightmares were less frequent now, which he was grateful for nearly fourteen years later.
“Have you talked to someone about it?” she asked, caressing his hand in a way that made him want to pull her into his arms. She was the one who had suffered an atrocity today and deserved to be comforted. Not him.
“Yeah, that’s me after therapy,” he answered with a lip tilt.
“Reece,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to their joined hands.
“You have to stop blaming yourself for the accident. There was no way you could have predicted what happened. Who would expect a golf cart to lose control and plow through the team, toppling everyone like dominoes? There wasn’t a time that I ran out on the field when I didn’t accept the risks I was about to take.
Football players had helmets and pads to protect them.
We had tennis shoes and miniskirts. We were never going to win against a golf cart. ”
“You had me!” His exclamation came along with a finger jab to his chest. “You had me to protect you, and I failed.” The last sentence was whispered in shame. “I failed you, Sky. You were my sky, and when you fell, so did my world.”