Destiny's Whisper (5 page)

“Skating has brought me more things than I certainly deserve, but if I had to decide tomorrow between skating and keeping my family within arms reach, I’m afraid the guy who sharpens my blades would be looking for work. The three of you mean more to me than life itself; without you, I’m nothing.” Aleksei stated huskily, his eyes shining brightly with tears.

Sergei looked deeply into his father’s tear-glazed dark eyes and saw the strength; the deep emotion and determination that had made their dreams come true. At that moment, he hoped one day he could look into his own son’s eyes and see the same reflection.

“I want what you’ve got, Dad. Is that asking for too much?” he asked softly.

Aleksei ran a hand through his son’s dark, wavy hair, tussling it as he had when he was a youngster and smiled. “You can ask for anything you want, whether or not you get it is strictly up to you. Ball’s in your court son, time to take your best shot,”

Sergei gazed over the calm water, his father’s few words sinking in and taking root. Suddenly Sergei’s head swirled with images of the possibilities before him and he couldn’t wait to get started. “I won’t disappoint you, Dad.”

“You haven’t disappointed me so far, why would you think that’s a concern now?”

Sergei’s shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “There’s always the chance I might screw up along the way.”

“Welcome to the club, son. Screwing up is a part of life, get used to it!” Aleksei stated laughingly and with a knowing look offered his son a last piece of advice. “And, Sergei, when it comes to women, don’t ever make the mistake of thinking you know what makes them tick. If you only take one lesson I’ve taught you to heart, let it be that when it comes to women: you are always going to be wrong, you will never understand the way they think and I’ve found groveling will take you a long way on the road toward forgiveness!”

The sound of deep male laughter drifted across the gently rippling pond as the gentle breeze stirred the leaves in the trees surrounding the pond’s banks, the mocking laughter-like sound returned by the ducks that drifted lazily in the water a soft echo.

CHAPTER 4 

T
he classical music pulsed toward its conclusion, the beat steady and powerful as the pair skaters practicing on the ice prepared for their final move, a throw double salchow. The move was dangerous enough at the beginning of a program when the skaters were fresh and energized, but was rarely attempted at the end of a four-minute long program when legs were ready to collapse. Still, the pair back-stroked into position, held their backward spiral and the man powerfully propelled his partner into the air, sending her flying and watched as she struggled to keep her body positioned correctly to land on her feet. The grating sound of metal against ice as her edge refused to hold her on her landing and then the solid thud as her body hit the ice hard disappeared as her partner roared in anger.

“You fucking idiot, there was no reason you couldn’t land that throw! You’re just fucking around to make me look bad!” the girl’s partner screamed in rage, skating around her, towering over her, while she struggled to her feet, her left knee and hip throbbing from her hard fall.

Cautiously she glanced up at him, her china-blue eyes glazed with tears of pain, fear shining clearly from them. “That’s not true,” she answered softly, cringing when her partner suddenly turned and closed the distance between them, his broad hands closing hurtfully around her upper arms.

“I don’t remember asking for your fucking opinion,” he hissed dangerously, his face only inches from hers as he forcefully lifted her upward, forcing her to raise up on her toe-picks; forcing her to rely upon him for balance.

“I’m sorry,” she answered on a whisper, barely breathing as she watched her partner’s eyes go dark with rage.

“If you fuck this competition up for me, Chloe, I swear I’ll kill you!”

Chloe shook her head back and forth, the movements minimal. “I won’t, Andrew, I won’t! I swear, there won’t be any mistakes!” she answered urgently, her eyes wide, her pupils so dilated it was nearly impossible to tell her eyes were blue.

His eyes glowed evilly, a wicked light flaring to life in their brown depths; “I’m through fucking around with you, Chloe. There are plenty of girls out there just dying to be my partner. I don’t know why I put up with your shit. You’re nothing!” he hissed into her face and then abruptly pushed her backwards.

Chloe felt herself falling and knew there was nothing she could do to stop herself. In slow motion, the world seemed to move a frame at a time, silent and in a strangely calm manner. She watched Andrew’s eyes sparkle in evil delight as he watched her descent toward the ice, saw his lips curve into a wicked smile. She hit the ice tailbone first, the sudden jolt sending a flash of pain up her spine. Her backward motion continued and she felt her shoulders hit the ice and then as the back of her head made contact with the concrete hard surface, explosions of black and silver scattered before her vision.

The bright overhead lights began to dim as she looked up from the ice and Andrew’s face entered her line of vision. Casually he leaned over her limp body as it lay sprawled on the ice and with a voice filled with malice and hate, stated calmly, “You’re fucking nothing!” and without another word, skated nonchalantly away.

From seemingly far away, Chloe heard the door to the rink close forcefully; knowing the sound should have been louder and frowning in confusion at the soft noise. Time seemed to stand still as she watched the lights overhead fade to shadow. Hazily, from miles away, she thought she heard a beloved name called–Sergei-and smiled softly as the merciful darkness enveloped her in its welcoming arms.

“So, has Whittaker come up with a list of
possible partners
for you yet?” Dani asked her brother as she stepped down from the Jeep, closed the door and went to retrieve her skating bag from the back of the vehicle.

“I didn’t know there were so many girls interested in skating pairs until this fiasco began, but to answer your question, no, he hasn’t given me a list of contenders yet.” Sergei answered, retrieving his skating gear and closing the back hatch on the Jeep.

Dani looked at her brother, tempted to tease him yet again about the hullabaloo with all the girls and changed her mind at his dark expression. The sudden squeal of tires as a familiar bright red Camaro raced through the parking lot and tore into the street, cutting off a mini-van entering the parking lot, caused both Dani and Sergei to grimace.

“I’d say someone’s practice session didn’t go so well today,” Dani offered, concern causing a small frown to appear between her eyes.

“That idiot’s going to kill someone someday,” Sergei forecast as he listened to the echo of screeching tires fade away in the distance.

“I’m just glad Chloe had the good sense to bring her own car,” Dani stated, recognizing the bright yellow VW Beetle in the parking lot, her frown lessening only marginally as she looked around the lot for her friend.

“Now if she only had the good sense to drop that asshole of a partner; he’s a time-bomb waiting to explode!” Sergei concluded.

“They’ve been together a long time, Sergei, five years. It’s not that easy to just switch partners, you know? Well, you don’t know, but you will soon enough. You’re liable to find yourself amazed at the amount of stuff you learn to tolerate when the alternative is starting all over with a new partner.”

Sergei cast his sister a disbelieving look. “Right. I can’t wait to be abused, both mentally and physically, all for the sake of keeping a skating partner,” Sergei growled deeply.

“There’s been no proof he’s ever abused her,” Dani fired back, a low blush tingeing her cheeks at her comment. No one had ever actually seen Andrew strike his partner, but to know Chloe off the ice and then see the change in her when her partner was near made it clear, something definitely wasn’t right. And then there were the bruises, always hidden by clothing, but impossible to hide while changing in the locker room.

“You’ve seen the way he acts, not just to her, but to women in general. He’s an asshole, pure and simple, and someday he’s going to hurt her, it’s just a matter of when and how badly,” he argued.

“I hope to God you’re wrong about that, Sergei. Chloe tries so hard to please Andrew, unfortunately, he seems to have turned into a person it’s impossible to please or satisfy. He finds fault with everything around him and her in particular. When he’s in the right mood, they’re wonderful together,”

“And when he’s not in the right mood?” Sergei questioned, seeing the answer in his sister’s eyes without her saying a single word.

“Don’t ask,” Dani finally answered quietly, a small frown making the corners of her generally smiling mouth turn down.

They continued their walk toward the building’s entrance in silence. Sergei held the door for his sister as they entered through the double doors of the ice house. Hurried greetings of welcome were exchanged as they passed friends in the lobby and made their way toward their respective locker rooms.

“Ten minutes, Sergei. Whittaker said seven-thirty and you know how he hates to be kept waiting,” Dani needlessly reminded her brother, pointing at the watch on her wrist.

“The day I keep you waiting is the day the world comes to an end,” Sergei growled at his sister, a teasing smile lighting his eyes. “Five bucks says I’m on the ice before you,”

“I’m not going to risk breaking a nail for five dollars; make it ten and you’re on!” Dani threw back, her look full of challenge.

Sergei smiled at his younger sister, so grown up in some ways and felt a pang similar to what their father probably did when he looked at her. Where had the little girl that had tagged along behind him so adoringly gone? It was hard to believe this gorgeous young woman was his littler sister and the thought he was going to have to start keeping an eye on the guys that seemed to follow her like meek sheep popped into his head. He knew the days ahead were going to cause him major headaches.

“You’re on!” he agreed and dashed into the locker room, the door closing with a whisper behind him, her barely heard ‘cheat’ reaching his ears through the doors.

Seven minutes later, Dani burst through the double doors leading to the west ice rink, screaming ‘I win! I win!” and found her brother kneeling on the ice beside a still figure, then heard Sergei’s deep voice urgently yelling across the ice, “Dani, call 9-1-1! It’s Chloe!”

The ambulance arrived with lights flashing and sirens blaring, pulling up to the side entrance of the west rink and entering through a side door. The attendants made their way cautiously across the ice, their bags resting on the gurney they pulled across the slick surface. When they reached Sergei, he stepped aside only far enough to give them room to work but kept within a few feet of Chloe.

“What’s her name?” one of the attendants asked, checking her pulse and slipping a blood pressure cuff over her upper arm, pumping it up and recording the reading on his notepad.

“Chloe Spenser,” Sergei answered quietly, unable to believe this silent, pale, wisp of a girl unconscious on the ice was someone he’d watched grow up. How she had suddenly gone from a cute little girl to a beautiful young woman had him baffled and he berated himself for not having noticed the change. Suddenly the rag-tag pigtails were gone and her hair gleamed with highlights of honey and gold. He knew her eyes were blue, but he couldn’t remember exactly which shade, and he desperately wished she would open them for him, the sudden need to know was overwhelming. Her soft pink lips were slightly parted as she took shallow breaths, making her chest barely rise and fall, her blossoming figure was still wispy and willowy and her legs looked impossibly long. Gazing at her slim form he guessed she probably didn’t weigh ninety-five pounds dripping wet, and a calm rage swept over him at the thought her partner was probably responsible for her condition.

“What happened?” the second attendant asked, cautiously checking her eyes with a flashlight for pupil response and her head for injury, carefully slipping a brace on to stabilize her neck.

Sergei shook his head, “I don’t know. I found her here like this. She was on the schedule to be practicing with her partner and just as my sister and I arrived, her partner tore out of the parking lot on two wheels. My guess is he did this to her.” Sergei answered in a deadly tone.

“Who did what isn’t our concern; that’s for the police. Any idea how long she’s been unconscious?”

Sergei only wished he could answer the question. He knew head injuries weren’t something to be scoffed at or screwed with, you didn’t want to be banging your brain around in your skull if you could help it.

Chloe’s soft moan brought Sergei immediately forward and he kneeled on the ice at her head. “Hey, Chloe,” Sergei’s soft, deep voice rolled over her like a gentle wave, calming her and warming her at the same time. “How’s it going?”

“My head hurts,” Chloe answered, her gaze meeting Sergei’s, china blue and ebony blending, one graceful hand lifting to touch her head, only to be captured in Sergei’s gentle grasp.

“No wiggling around for now. You’ve got two handsome men fawning over you right now, let them do their work,” he teased softly, his thumb gently caressing her palm.

“Three…” she whispered, the glory of her eyes disappearing as her long lashes fluttered and her eyes closed.

Sergei cast an anxious glance at the paramedics, his eyes full of unasked questions.

“Keep her talking, we need to keep her conscious if we can,” one of the paramedics stated, checking her blood pressure yet again while his partner reported her stats to the hospital over the two-way radio.

Sergei nodded in understanding, “Come on, Chloe, stay with me. Open up those gorgeous eyes of yours,” Sergei urged deeply, his tone growing urgent when her eyes fluttered open and immediately drifted shut again. “Chloe! Look at me!” he called sharply, his demanding tone reaching her, her eyes flying open, her blue gaze filled with fear.

“No, Andrew…” she whimpered softly, struggling weakly to pull her hand from Sergei’s gentle grasp. “Please don’t hurt me, I won’t mess up again,” she repeated over and over, her cowering tone and glazed, fearful expression breaking his heart.

“Who’s Andrew?” one of the paramedics asked as he assisted his partner and they gently placed Chloe on the gurney and strapped her in place.

Sergei looked from Chloe to the lead paramedic and with eyes the color of midnight, calmly stated, “Andrew Manning, the bastard that did this to her.” At that moment, he would have gladly drilled Chloe’s partner into the ground, in front of the police now gathering information from possible witnesses, if necessary.

“I’d suggest you talk to the police before you take any action personally, despite your inclination to do otherwise,” the paramedic gathering up the remaining equipment suggested calmly, before following his partner that pushed the gurney across the ice.

“Sergei…” Chloe’s soft voice echoed across the ice, reaching his ears and wrapping a firm grasp around his heart.

The paramedic pushing the gurney leaned over and spoke to the slight form covered and strapped to the rolling bed and nodded in understanding. “She doesn’t want to go to the hospital alone, are you available?”

With a single nod, Sergei skated to where Dani stood rinkside, his blade guards in one hand, his skate bag in the other and handed them to him as he came off the ice.

“Let Mom and Dad and Whittaker know what’s happened. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything. I don’t know when I’ll be home,” he stated quietly, kissing her quickly on the cheek and then brushing away the tears that fell from her green eyes.