Half to Death by Robin Alexander Page A

I’ll carry you,” I heard myself say. “Everything’s gonna be okay, don’t cry.” The compassion in my voice was evident.
    “I’m too heavy, go get Momma,” I felt Miranda say.
    I watched myself shake my head. “I’m not leaving you out here alone.” My face was contorted in fear. “I won’t leave you.”
    I felt the realization in Miranda’s mind. She loves me, she won’t let me down. The tender bond that formed and carried us through adulthood blossomed right there on that hot summer day.
    Miranda stepped back and broke the connection. She waggled a finger at me. “You got in my brain. Practice, practice, prac—” She stopped when she saw the look on my face. “What, what did you see? Was it sad again?”
    I shook my head, unable to speak.
    Miranda grimaced. “You look upset. I want to hug you again, but I don’t think I should.”
    “It wasn’t bad.” My voice came out in a croak. “I saw…the day…the time you realized that I loved you and you loved me. The day we became sisters.”
    I watched the wheels turn behind Miranda’s eyes. “What day was that exactly?” She held her hands up when I looked disappointed. “Sloan, there were so many.”
    “The day we made the rope swing and you broke your ankle.”
    “You were my hero that day.” Miranda smiled wistfully.
    “Well…” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “You’re my hero today.”
     

 
    Chapter 9
    I usually skipped the health club on the days Miranda worked her shift, but…I wanted to see Jade. I knew Miranda was right. I needed to avoid her until I got my brain under control. I reasoned that at the health club we wouldn’t have any time alone, and I could just observe Jade from afar. I had no reference for what it felt like to fall in love, but I thought I barely knew Jade, and what Miranda claimed was the beginning of love was just curiosity out of control.
    I even waved off the tiny jump my heart made when I spotted her as I came in the door. She was wearing a pair of black shorts with reflective piping that went around the edges. A black sleeveless T-shirt clung tightly to her body. Her back was to me when I started my stretches, and I was content to occasionally glance her way. Just being in the same room with her made me feel something I didn’t recognize.
    I looked into the mirror and caught her eye as she watched me. It felt like something passed between us. She smiled, a real smile that transformed her face, not the work smile. I found myself grinning until she walked into the room.
    Miss Bling was wearing a light blue shirt that matched her shorts. The band around the top of her ankle socks matched the whole ensemble. She walked right up and put a hand on Jade’s arm, and whatever was flowing between us came to a screeching halt.
    I started hefting weights like a body builder. I was grunting and puffing with the men alongside me, although their weights were significantly heavier. I despised the newcomer and needed to dispel the angry energy that flowed through me whenever I looked at her. I’d never truly known jealousy; the feeling was foreign, and I hated it. I also despised the fact that the flirtatious woman could make me feel it, like she had some power over me I couldn’t control.
    My gaze wandered and I found Jade again. She had the bitch in blue doing lunges. I watched her make one pass across the gym and begin to protest. Jade seemed to be arguing with her. I watched the tiny muscle flicker in her cheek as Jade clamped her jaw tightly. The woman was smiling and saying something that had no effect on Jade’s ire. That made me smile.
    I’d noticed that Jade usually spent an hour with each client. Usually after she was finished with them, they looked like they’d been through a fierce battle, red-faced and breathing heavily. This woman did not. Instead of gulping down water and limping toward the door as the others did, she hung around watching as Jade worked with another one of her victims.
    This