Page 107 of No Place Like Home
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 evenhere?
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 evenseehim 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.
