Maritza was one of her best friends. They had climbed together all over the world. They’d stood side by side on the winners’ podium at dozens of competitions. Had Maritza’s friendship been an act?
The thought left Sasha feeling hollow.
Buzz. Buzz.
Sasha looked at her phone, saw that Scott was calling. She let it go to voicemail. He’d called earlier to tell her that reporters wanted her response to Maritza’s harsh words about her. But Sasha didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, apart from Darius and her closest friends here in Scarlet, of course.
On her TV, bison plowed through deep snow, grunting as they moved, their shaggy fur covered in flakes.
Sasha had always known that competitive climbing had a dark underbelly. There’d been more than a few doping scandals. Climbers had been caught trying to bribe route-setters for beta on the routes before competing. One had tried to get a route-setter to create a route that played to his strengths. But none of this had ever touched Sasha personally. She’d tried to rise above it, believing that most competitive climbers were honest people who loved the sport as much as she did.
Had she been wrong?
Buzz. Buzz.
“Scott again?” Megs asked.
Sasha nodded. “I don’t want to talk to the media right now. He just doesn’t understand.”
Megs took Sasha’s phone and answered in a near-whisper. “Megs Hill here. Sasha is asleep. She’s not feeling at all well. I’m sure she’ll call you back when she’s better. No, Scott, no interviews. The media will have to wait until she’s up to it.”
“How did he react?”
“No idea.” Megs set Sasha’s phone down beside her. “I hung up on him mid-sentence.”
“Thanks, Megs.”
“You’re welcome.”
“No, I mean thanks for all of it. I wouldn’t be the climber I am without you. You inspired me in so many ways—climbing, the Team, your attitude. Your support has meant everything to me.”
Megs rested her hand on top of Sasha’s. “You’re welcome, but please don’t tell me I’m the wind beneath your wings, or I’ll have to cry.”
Sasha smiled. “You warned me that competitive sports climbing could be dirty. I should have listened.”
Mitch, who sat on the far end of the sofa, leaned forward so he could see Sasha. “This isn’t your fault, sweetie. None of us could have imagined this.”
Megs nodded. “He’s right.”
“An hour before I left on my bike ride, Maritza and I were messaging back and forth. She knew I was going for a conditioning ride—and she knew where.”
God, it hurt to say those words aloud.
“Hear me, Sasha.” Megs’ expression was fierce. “If Maritza played any role in this, Darius and the others will uncover it, and her career will be over. I know that doesn’t lessen your sense of betrayal, but she will pay.”
Tears filled Sasha’s eyes. “I’ve known her for six years—as long as I’ve known you. We’ve traveled together, climbed together, laughed together. I considered her a close friend. Was it all an act?”
Nicole got up from the floor and knelt beside Sasha. “I know this sucks, but your real friends, the friends who would do anything for you—we’re right here. We won’t let you face this alone.”
Sasha sniffed. “Thanks, Nic. You’re right. My real friends are here in Scarlet. I’m lucky to have you all in my life.”
Nicole squeezed her hand. “We all think we’re lucky to haveyou.”
Sasha tried to focus on that—and not the knot in her stomach.
Darius pulledinto Sasha’s driveway, turned off his vehicle, and sat there, wondering how he was going to do this. Sasha already suspected the worst. He’d seen it on her face at Knockers—the shock, the deep sense of betrayal. Now, he had to confirm that and break her heart again.
He drew a breath, climbed out of the SUV, and was glad to see Nicole’s vehicle and Megs and Mitch’s sitting at the curb.
