Page 1 of Tempting Triton
1
Elena
“Iwant to quit swimming.” I grimace, my hands balled tightly on my lap as I sit across from my coach. I feel like a naughty school kid sitting in the headmaster’s office about to be scolded, but I’m not a child anymore.
Brett runs his hands through his salt and pepper hair and sits back in his chair across from me. “Look, I know you’re having a hard time, Elena—”
“I’m not having a hard time, Brett. I want to retire. I don’t have it in me anymore. Not since—”
He sighs again, running his hands over his face. He looks tired. “I’ve been training you since you were a kid. You were born for this.”
He stares at me, hands clasped on top of the wooden desk. His graying hair has thinned over the eleven years he’s been training me. Creases line his face, and I realize I haven’t truly looked at him in along while. My parents’ deaths didn’t just affect me, but their best friend too.
My eyes flick up to the photo of my parents and Brett with their arms around me, looking so proud while I show off my Olympic medal, champagne spray coating us and massive smiles on our faces.
I close my eyes against the tears that threaten to spill. It’s been two years, and losing them doesn’t hurt any less.
The photo is a reminder of my previous success and proof to back up his statement. I think he keeps it on the wall so I’m reminded every time I’m sitting in front of him that itispossible, but every time I look at it, I don’t seemeanymore. That happy smiling girl didn’t know she was going to lose her parents the next day in a car accident while on their way to the airport.
Looking around at the dated office, I’m reminded that Brett needs my success more than I do. When he took me on at fourteen, he saw my potential straight away. When I started winning at regionals and then at state competitions, he dropped his other clients to focus on my career and get me to the Olympics. And he did. I trained my ass off under his tutelage. Standing on that podium with my medal was one of the best days of my life. Quickly followed by one of theworst. The loss of my parents built a wall in my mind that I have been struggling to break through.
“You’ve got a qualifier coming up in two weeks. Get through that, and we’ll see how your times are. We can revisit this retirement discussion then.”
“We both know my times are lousy. I should quit while I’m still ahead,” I grumble. At least then I could bow out with my head held high. I won an Olympic gold medal, for goodness sake. The embarrassment of knowing I won’t qualify for the next one is more than I can bear.
“I can’t let you do that, Elena. I know you’ve got it in you. You just have to dig deep and find it again.” Brett looks at me with sympathetic eyes, which stirs an ugly feeling in my chest.
“I’m more than just your cash cow, Brett,” I snap.
Brett’s head whips back as if I’ve slapped him, and I may as well have with the venom laced in my words. I instantly feel guilty, but I don’t take it back.
“I know you know I don’t think that, Elena.” His words are quiet. “Why don’t you take the weekend off? Go to your parents’—yourcabin, and get some R and R. We can talk again when you get back.” Brett stands, effectively dismissing me.
I huff, pushing my chair out, and I don’t look back as I slam his office door behind me.
The air out at my parents’ cabin is crisp with the turning of fall. Its log walls are kept warm by the fire inside the hearth, but instead of embracing the coziness, I lace up my trainers and slip my headphones on. When I step out onto the porch, the frigid air hits my cheeks. After my not-so-fruitful talk with Brett, I decided to take his advice and drive out here to clear my head. My simmering anger has petered out, leaving me with the feeling of guilt sitting heavy in my bones.
I stretch out my limbs and set the timer on my watch before setting off on a brisk jog on one of the mountain trails that surround the cabin. The sun is maybe an hour away from setting, and the afternoon is beginning to cool down. I have just enough time for a run to clear my head and stay on top of my training. As much as I want to quit, I haven’t yet, and I can’t afford not to be at the top of my game. Especially since it hasn’t beengood enough lately anyway. I wasn’t lying when I said my times had been lousy at my last few meets, and there was no way I was going to qualify for the next Olympics.
The gravel crunches under my trainers as I set a steady pace. I try to focus on the music playing in my headphones and making sure my breathing stays nice and even. Still, the guilt gnaws at me for speaking to Brett the way that I did. I know he doesn’t think I’m his cash cow, even if he does need the money my wins bring. I acted like a spoiled brat, and there’s no excuse for treating him that way when he’s only ever had my best interests at the forefront of his mind.
“FUCK!” I yell into the ether, slowing to a stop and resting my hands on my head to open up my chest and ease my breathing. “FUUCKKKKKKK! FUCK YOU!” I scream at the sky. A sob bubbles up and bursts from my lips. I press my palms into my eyes and try to take deep breaths as guilt and sadness overwhelm me. I miss my parents so damn much. I miss the feeling of peace the water would bring me as I slid into it, goggles fitted to my face. The way my muscles burned as I glided through the water with powerful strokes, the smell of chlorine embedding itself into my skin. Every time I got into the water, it was like being cleansed of all my worries and stress.The water let me breathe again. It’s been two years since I felt like I could just breathe.
I shake my body out, trying to shake away all the deep feelings of shame and longing that simmer beneath my skin. Falling into a run again, I push myself harder, punishing myself the only way I know how. I sprint around the beaten path, the falling sun filtering through the boughs of the bordering trees.
Beep-beep. Beep-beep.
My watch alarm goes off, signaling it’s time for me to turn around and begin the run back to the cabin. I pivot on my front foot and head back the way I came, noting the position of the sun. I don’t want to get caught out here after dark. The run hasn’t cleared my head at all, and while lost in my turmoil, I haven’t been monitoring my breathing, which is now coming in ragged pants. I slow to a walk before resting my hands on my knees, inhaling deeply to try and bring my heart back to a regular pace.
Snap.
A new song is about to start when I hear the sound of twigs breaking in the trees behind me. I snap my head up, pausing my playlist to hear better. I pull my headphonesdown around my neck, carefully scanning my surroundings. It’s not uncommon for other people to be out here. The trail is a popular location for hikers and has a parking lot at one end to grant people access. But it’s getting late, and I haven’t seen anyone along this part of the trail. I assume it’s an animal, but the sound still has me on edge. I decide to keep my headphones around my neck for the rest of the run home and pick up the pace again.
I round a corner and can see the end of the trail, the log cabin peeking through the trees. I breathe a sigh of relief, my anxiety having ratcheted up since being startled on the trail. Relief quickly turns to confusion as I spy a beat-up looking camper van parked out front of the cabin. I’m not sure who would be visiting since the only person who knows I’m out here is Brett, and that is definitely not Brett’s car. Maybe a tourist got lost trying to find the parking lot access to the trail?
The back of my neck prickles. A movement of shadow appears in my peripheral vision. I turn to face it and stumble, twisting my ankle in the process, going down with a yelp. A man stands amongst the trees at my side, a mop of dark hair, his face half hidden in shadows. I know what happens next. This is how every horror movieplays out. My heart thunders, blood thumping in my ears, and I try to scramble back towards the cabin and the safety its wooden walls provide. The man doesn’t move and doesn’t say anything, just watches me frantically trying to escape, and somehow, that seems even more ominous.
I don’t want to turn my back to him, but I need to get to my feet to have even the slightest chance of getting away. I don’t know who he is, or what he wants, or why he’s even out here. My brain is just screaming at me that there’s a predator in my midst and I mustrun.
