Ever since the story broke earlier that week the entire track team had been on pins and needles. Investigators from the sports commission had been all over them, digging, probing, wanting to hang something on them—her in particular. She was the star now, the comeback kid, the one in the spotlight, the one they would love to see fall. She was next in line for the starting position on the team—now that Stephanie was gone.
David swore to her that there was nothing to the story—an ugly rumor that had gone haywire, he’d said.
Now, she didn’t know what to believe. Too many things didn’t add up and what did she didn’t like. If everything the papers said was true, her future was over and she had no one to blame but herself.
Moving slowly through her one-bedroom garden apartment in the exclusive Atlanta community, she glanced around at the trophies, the symbols of her accomplishments, the expensive furniture and original artwork, which were all a testament to her ability on the track. Outside her living room window sat a brand-new Navigator, a treat to herself for making it back. In a matter of days, if the stories were true, it could all be gone and she would be hung out to dry.
She picked up her purse from the end table by the door along with her car keys. Her test was scheduled for nine a.m. She opened the front door to flashbulbs and a cacophony of reporters that assaulted her.
“Ms. Maxwell, Ms. Maxwell, what will you do if the tests come back positive?” Pop, pop, flash, flash. “Did your coach, David Livingston, have anything to do with this?” “Give us a statement, Ms. Maxwell.”
Kelly held her purse up to her face and pushed past the hungry vultures, practically sprinting to her car. She was sure that would be the picture that would wind up on the front page of tomorrow’s paper. She jumped into the SUV, put it in gear and sped off, spewing dust and gravel in her wake.
She should have listened to Alex. She should have listened to her heart and stayed in New York.
Chapter 1
Four months earlier
Kelly Maxwell unpacked her gym bag and shoved the contents into her locker. She was pumped. Adrenaline burned in her veins. It had been nearly a month since she’d been able to practice and she was eager to get on the track and cut through the air. Running was her drug of choice. It got her through the days and even some nights when she would sprint through the dark streets of Atlanta when the city was asleep and her only company was the moon and the stars and the wind.
The sounds of approaching laughter and the easy banter shared between friends interrupted her reverie. She shut her locker, turned the key and shoved it into the pocket of her shorts. She’d hoped to have some time alone. She wanted to get in and out before anyone saw her.
“Well, if it’s not our little star sprinter,” Stephanie Daniels said sarcastically, the comment a sneer rather than a compliment. Stephanie walked further into the locker room and looked Kelly up and down. “Pretty soon we’re going to have to put STAR on your locker door if David has anything to say about it.”
“Stephanie, knock it off,” said Maureen, another member of the track team. She flashed Kelly a look of sympathy without letting Stephanie notice.
Stephanie opened her locker and pulled out her bag. “I call them like I see them. She gets the locker room to herself and the track. What next, the coach?” She laughed.
Kelly snatched her towel from the bench and draped it around her neck. “We’re all on the same team, Stephanie,” she said walking up to her. “I’m where I am because it’s where I deserve to be.” The corner of her mouth curved in a half smile. “And…so…are…you. Second.”
She walked out before Stephanie could respond, but she clearly heard herself referred to as a dog of the female persuasion.
When she stepped outside onto the lush field and imagined the empty stadium seats filled to capacity and the crowd roaring her name, Stephanie’s ugly innuendos no longer mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting on the track and flying, making all her troubles, her fears, her aloneness vanish under the beat of her feet. Reaching the finish line first is what defined her, made her whole.
She jogged down the steps in David’s direction, wincing slightly. She’d have to adjust the wrapping when she got down on the field.
“How’s my star today?” David said, putting his arm around her shoulder.
“I wish you wouldn’t say that around the other teammates,” she said.
He dropped his arm. “Why, because it might make them really step up their game?”
She turned to face him. “No, it makes it difficult for me, David…to fit in when everyone thinks I get special treatment.”
He looked down into her eyes, and lifted her chin with the tip of his index finger. “Maybe because you are special, Kelly. Ever think of that? I know a winner when I see one. And so does the sports world. I told you that from the first day we met. You are a champion with the medals to prove it. And there’s nothing that any of them in the peanut gallery back there can do about that.”
She drew in a breath. There was no point in pursuing the subject, David would never understand. They’d been down this road before.
“Now, let’s see what you got today.” He pulled the towel from around her neck and watched her walk out onto the track. Moments later he followed.
“Need some help with that?” David knelt down beside her.
“I know what I’m doing,” Kelly said a bit more harshly than necessary, as she tightened the Ace bandage around her right ankle. She briefly shut her eyes to withstand the pain that shot up her leg all the way to her hip. Slowly she stood up, bouncing on the balls of her feet to test the ankle.
David stood back, his expression tense and hard, marring his usually approachable facade. Kelly Maxwell was his star sprinter, his claim to fame. As much as his heart told him to snatch her off the track and take her home, his drive for the gold medal and all that came with it overrode any pangs of emotion.
He held up his stopwatch. “Ready!”
Kelly assumed her starting position, snatched a glance at him over her left shoulder and gave a short nod.
“Set. Go.”
She was off the starting block like a bolt of unexpected lightning, fast, smooth, dazzling to the eye. Kelly was incredible to watch. She moved like a gazelle, the long, lean lines of her body flowing in a rhythm that only came from being a natural athlete. What she did could not be taught. It was instinctive. Every breath she took propelled her faster as if she were inhaling fuel. The power in her legs and arms pulsed with energy as she rounded the turn and came into the home stretch.
David checked the watch. His heart rate escalated. She was on her way to a new record for the 100-meter sprint.
But instead of a cry of victory, a scream that vibrated through his bones echoed in the still morning air. Kelly went down hard on the track, writhing in agony.
David and the team doctor rushed to her side.
“Get a stretcher,” David barked to an assistant as he knelt beside her. “It’s gonna be okay, Kelly.”
“My ankle,” she sobbed. “My ankle.” She writhed back and forth in pain.
“Take it easy.”
Two assistants appeared and gently lifted Kelly off the ground and onto the stretcher.
“Take her straight to Atlanta University Hospital,” Dr. Graham said. “I’ll meet you there.” He turned to David, his blue eyes cold and accusing.