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  “It better not be you who wrote it.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Who wrote it, then?”

  His father now stood right next to him, speaking quietly in his ear. Leo paused. When he’d mentioned Audrey’s involvement in his suspension two months ago, his father had exploded. But the punishment would surely increase if his father caught him in a lie now.

  “Audrey, sir.”

  Leo felt his father’s hot breath on the side of his face. “Give me fifty.”

  He dropped to the spongy track and silently counted his pushups. His strong arms pumped up and down fluidly as he focused on making a perfectly straight line from his head to his feet.

  As he passed the first thirty, his mind wandered back to the pushup contest his father had refereed when he’d been twelve and Jason seventeen. Leo had surprised everyone by pumping out over one-hundred pushups to Jason’s seventy-five. Jason, a basketball player, was strong, but his upper-body strength was no match for a swimmer’s.

  Their father had mocked Jason mercilessly for losing to a boy five years his junior. As his father screamed, Leo had silently prayed his mouthy brother would keep his trap shut for once.

  But instead Jason had yelled, “Get outta my face, you pompous Navy prick!”

  Their father had immediately punched Jason in the gut. Leo had felt the sting of each blow as if he were the one getting hit. Jason had missed a week of school after that particular thrashing.

  By the third set of fifty pushups, Leo could feel each one of the ten thousand meters he’d swum that day, and his arms began to shake.

  He completed fifteen more pushups, but his pace slowed and form wobbled. It was clear he was about to collapse.

  His father finally ordered him to rise. “One mile warm-up,” he added, falling into step beside Leo. The two loped around the track four times. A casual observer might have thought it sweet that father and son were jogging together, but Leo knew what was coming.

  After the warm-up, his father fixed a measured stare on him.

  “You’re doing mile repeats, starting at six-thirty and decreasing the interval by fifteen seconds each time.” Leo closed his eyes. At least at that blazing pace, the torture wouldn’t last long. He started the first mile with a strong kick. He’d have to hustle to make the interval. He finished the first mile in 6:15, and had barely stopped when his father sent him off on the next.

  Between gasps, Leo wondered how long he could run before col apsing or vomiting. What a fun game. When the punishment was a beating, the game was how long Leo could last before crying.

  Two months ago he’d refused to cry, despite his father’s crushing blows. He wondered if his lack of tears was why his father had chosen PT instead tonight.

  Leo got two seconds’ rest after the second mile before beginning the third, and he felt bile in the back of his throat as he rounded the second turn. He convulsed and leaned over the inner rim of the track to vomit onto the grass. His body writhed in the agony of being pushed to the absolute limit.

  After heaving for several minutes, Leo stumbled back toward his father, dizzy and disoriented.

  His father appeared satisfied. “No more disrespecting your teachers.”

  He managed a feeble “Yes, sir” as they made their way to the car.

  Leo continued to pant through the ride home, his clothes stuck to his body with sweat. “Am I grounded?” he finally asked.

  His father’s mouth curled in disgust. “Getting grounded is for losers.”

  Leo stared out at the passing palm trees. Apparently a real man had to be barfing or beaten. He wasn’t so thrilled about becoming a man.

  4. Anchor

  Audrey sat in her car, attempting to psych up enough to enter the cement building fronted by a row of bushes and barbed-wire fence. Visiting hours would be over soon, but she felt glued to the vinyl seat.

  An old CD — a remnant from Audrey’s childhood — played on her car stereo. “Gracie” was a sweet song from a father to his daughter, and Audrey’s father had often substituted her name, singing “Audrey girl” instead of “Gracie girl.” The rolling piano and singer’s earnest voice made Audrey pause every time.

  She finally kicked open the car door and scurried to the entrance before she could turn back. She tucked a strand of damp auburn hair behind her ear as she passed by the building’s stark sign: Naval Air Station Pensacola, Military Prison.

  Inside she approached a baby-faced Military Police officer, who couldn’t have been much older than she was. His eyes traveled over her as he registered her as a visitor. Audrey wore her slim jeans low on her hips, her lean midriff peeking out below her white ruffled shirt. Feeling the MP’s dirty eyes on her made her shiver. Typically she’d give the guy a direct, defiant stare until he looked away, but the prison threw her. She averted her eyes until the MP led her into the visiting room.

  Drumming her fingers on the counter, Audrey stared at the empty chair behind the Plexiglas window. Three months. Her father had only been a prisoner for three months, yet so much had changed.

  And this was only the beginning of his sentence.

  Another MP escorted former Lt. Commander Dennis Rose into the visiting room. Audrey smiled wanly, taking in her father’s navy prison jumpsuit. He looked tired and hopeless. They’d shaved his brown hair — probably some regulation in the brig — which made him seem younger and more vulnerable. He appeared to have shrunk since the court martial.

  Awkwardly picking up the phone with handcuffed wrists, her father waited until Audrey followed suit across the glass. “You look beautiful, honey.”

  “How, um, how’s it’s going, Dad?”

  “It’s fine.”

  She blinked nervously. He didn’t sound fine. “Any word on the transfer?”

  “Leavenworth’s still over capacity.” He gave her a tight smile.

  “Commander Scott visited me today. He’s been the only officer standing by me through all of this.” He paused. “How’s the college search going?”

  “Good.”

  Audrey brightened. She couldn’t wait for college — her chance to leave the shame of being Denny Rose’s daughter behind. All over Pensacola she caught piteous glances and heard the whispers. That girl’s father is a murderer.

  “I have recruiting trips lined up at Northwestern and Florida State,” she said. “The FSU coach thinks he can offer me a full ride.” And you know I need one, she added silently.

  “What about the Naval Academy?” her dad asked.

  Audrey’s brown eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that. I want nothing to do with the military.” Her dad’s gaze shifted to the MP monitoring their conversation in a side booth.

  Audrey ignored him. “They completely shafted you, Dad — sentencing you to life in prison without a shred of evidence. I want nothing to do with them.”

  “Calm down. Wishing things were different won’t make them so. I must’ve killed him, Audrey…I — I just can’t recall the how or why.” His voice rose as he squeezed the phone. “I wish I could remember that night!”

  Feeling tears bubble up, Audrey looked away. “I know you’re not a murderer. You didn’t kill Lt. Commander Walsh.”

  “Well, a jury of my peers says I did.” When she looked back at him she caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes. Then his features settled into stone. “I…I don’t want you coming here anymore. I want you to forget about me. You have a bright future. Go live your life, Audrey.” Her lips parted, and she stared at him dumbly.

  “I’m an anchor,” he said. “I just bring you and your mom down.

  I — I can’t be there for you. Your graduation…college swim meets…

  your wedding…” He swallowed. “Don’t waste your time on me.” Tears now slid down Audrey’s cheeks.

  “Just forget about me. Do you understand?” Shaking her head, she stared at her father through a veil of tears.

  “No, sir. I won’t forget about you!” Audrey slammed the phone back into
the cradle and ran out of the room, her palm pressed to her mouth.

  5. Get a Room

  Leo lightly pressed the car horn, cringing when a loud honk resonated through the still darkness of pre-dawn. Audrey emerged from her house, toting her swim bag, and a grin spread across her face as she identified his rusty car.

  Sliding into the passenger seat, she gave him a quizzical look. “I thought Laney was picking me up.”

  Leo put the car in reverse. “I called her last night and told her I’d get you. I hope I didn’t wake your mom.” Audrey shook her head. “She’s in Birmingham.” He frowned. Mrs. Rose had to start travel nursing to pay the bills, and she often left Audrey alone for weeks at a time.

  Yawning, Audrey snuggled up to him. “I’m so happy you’re not grounded. What happened with your dad?” Leo smiled. Draping his arm around her shoulders, he shook off his morning sleepiness. “Just a little PT. No big deal. But I was up till midnight writing that stupid paper for Mr. Morrison.” He guided the car through the empty streets toward the high school. “How’d it go with your dad?” Audrey took a while to respond. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “That good, huh?” Leo always felt a stab of hurt when Audrey shut him out, but to be fair, she knew very little about what really went on in his family. It was too embarrassing for anyone to know he was afraid of his father.

  “It’s just — we get so little time together…I don’t want to bring you down by talking about my dad.”

  Leo squeezed her shoulder and kissed the crown of her head, keeping his eyes on the road. “You could never bring me down. Just seeing you brightens my day, every time.” After a moment she choked out, “He told me never to visit him again. He told me to forget about him.”

  “Shh.” Leo tried to comfort her. “I hope you told him he was an idiot. Nobody can just forget their father.” He wished that wasn’t true.

  As they pulled into the parking lot, Audrey sniffed. “I told him he was wrong, yeah.”

  Leo shut off the car and faced his girlfriend, enveloping her in an embrace. Their bodies pressed against each other, and Leo was definitely awake now.

  “We can ditch practice if you want — go somewhere and talk about it.”

  “Then you’d really be in trouble.” She sighed loudly. “C’mon, we don’t want to be late.”

  They jogged into the weight room. Tuesday morning meant strength training. Their weekly schedule included practices before school four days a week and after school five days a week. It was grueling, but all the best swimmers trained twice a day.

  Leo heard Audrey giggle as Alex Bradbury waltzed into the weight room behind them. The six-two junior had wavy black hair that stuck out in all directions. He wore a thick, white terrycloth robe over his T-shirt and shorts, along with striped Ralph Lauren socks and Adidas flip flops. Much to Leo’s amusement, Alex was notorious for bringing his own sheets when the team stayed at a hotel for out-of-town swim meets. The kid was quite a lovable snob.

  “Laney!” Alex called in his breathy voice, joining her at the lat pull-down station. Elaine and Alex were lifting partners, as were Leo and Audrey, and the foursome often hung out when Leo’s father actually allowed him to leave the house.

  Matt looked grumpy, likely tired from his late night at the restaurant — his other job. “Okay, people. Get to your stations!” Choosing to get the lunges over with first, Leo and Audrey collected their weights and stood on a mat before the mirrored wall.

  Matt adjusted the stereo, and European techno music blasted out before he quickly ejected the CD.

  “Maaaaatt,” Alex protested. “I brought that CD to pump us up!” Matt shook his head. “That techno crap couldn’t even pump up Michael Phelps,” he snarled. Glancing at Leo, Matt asked, “You don’t like it, do you?”

  Leo held out his hands noncommittally. Matt rifled through the disks scattered on top of the stereo. The folksy strains of the Grateful Dead filled the room as Matt started them on the circuit.

  “Now that’s weightlifting music,” he muttered.

  Seven stations into the circuit, Leo and Audrey did squats while Alex and Elaine worked their chests at the bench press station. Leo felt sweat slide down his legs as he lowered his body, clutching the weighted bar across the back of his neck.

  “Good form, Leo,” Matt called from across the room.

  While Audrey took some plates off the bar before her turn, Leo watched Elaine and Alex adding twenty-five pound plates to their bar. When Elaine flattened herself on the bench, Leo wrinkled his forehead. “Wait a minute. Does Elaine lift more than you, Alex?” Assuming the spotting position behind the bar, Alex gave him a wounded look. “Shut up, Leo! Look at Laney’s biceps! I could never lift as much as her!”

  Chuckling, Audrey heaved the squat bar up to her chest and then over her head, resting it on her neck and shoulders as she lowered into a squat. Her lean muscles strained against the burden.

  “Audrey, keep your back straight,” Matt instructed. When she continued to struggle, he added, “Leo, help her with her form, will you?” Leo nodded and came up behind Audrey, wrapping his hands around her hips to steady her. She seemed to shiver. Leo smiled and leaned in closer. “I think your form’s absolutely perfect, Rose,” he whispered.

  He guided her through a couple more repetitions before he noticed Matt standing next to them, scowling.

  “Get a room, you two.”

  “Yes, sir.” Leo stifled a grin, and Audrey blushed. Matt returned to the other side of the room, and Leo again whispered in Audrey’s ear.

  Five minutes later Leo watched Audrey approach Matt, gingerly holding her arm. “Um, Matt, I think I did something to my elbow on the triceps machine. Okay if I go get some ice?” Matt scowled. “Okay. Tell me how it’s feeling this afternoon.” Audrey skipped out of the room.

  After waiting a beat, Leo approached Matt. “May I go to the restroom, sir?”

  Matt nodded and waved Leo off, turning his attention back to yelling at two sophomores for pausing too long between sit-ups.

  Once Leo cleared the door, he sprinted to the men’s locker room, where Audrey waited for him with hungry eyes. He grabbed her and drew her body flush. Their sweat intermingled as they attacked each other with urgent kisses.

  Weightlifting had been amazing foreplay, and now their hands were all over each other, sliding over slippery, sweaty skin. Audrey exhaled as Leo knelt and lifted her shirt to ply her abdomen with hot kisses, his tongue licking drips of sweat. She skated her hands through his hair, massaging his head and clutching his skull. Shivers of excitement crawled up his spine.

  After several minutes of mixing hormones, sweat, and skin, Leo heard a man clear his throat and broke their embrace. As he scrambled to standing, his throat tightened with fear. Audrey tugged down her shirt and smoothed the fabric of her shorts, her face blushing crimson.

  “What are you doing?” Matt shuddered. “Check that — I have a good idea what you’re doing. Why are my two team captains skipping valuable practice time to get it on?” Leo took a deep breath. “We’re just doing what you told us, sir.” Matt squinted in confusion.

  “You told us to get a room.” Leo held his breath.

  Slowly the corners of Matt’s mouth turned up. He shook his head slowly. “Freaking hormonal teenagers. Get your butts back to the weight room.”

  Leo grabbed Audrey’s hand, and they scampered back to practice as Matt muttered behind them.

  “Teenagers.”

  6. Christmas Ornaments, Hood Ornaments

  Mary Scott scrounged through the box of Christmas ornaments and sighed. December fifteenth — the year has gone quickly.

  At least Leo had finally sent his application for nomination to the U.S. Naval Academy to Senator Frees. James seemed pleased his son had completed this first step, though it was nearly impossible to make James happy these days.

  It had been so fun to decorate the house for Christmas back when they’d lived in Maryland. Each year Mary and the three “boys
” had slogged through the snow to pick out a grand evergreen at a tree farm. Now in Florida, the eighty-two-degree temperature hardly put her in a festive mood, and these boxed reminders of a happier past filled her with sorrow.

  Inhaling suddenly, Mary pulled out a framed photo of the family from twelve years ago and ran her hand across it.

  She and James stood proudly in their crisp, black dress uniforms, flanked by ten-year-old Jason and five-year-old Leo. James had one arm around Mary and the other resting possessively on Jason’s shoulders, while Mary’s sweet Leo was close by her side. All were smiling and carefree in their annual holiday photo.

  Mary felt a catch in her throat as she thought about how they’d all changed since then.

  She’d met James in Annapolis, where she’d been a young engineering instructor at the Naval Academy. A plebe with incredible hazel eyes had shined in her class — when he’d actually made it to class. Midshipman James Scott had a penchant for fistfights, which often led to marching punishments that cut into his study time. He’d come to her office for tutoring to catch up, and Mary had developed a soft spot for the troubled student.

  At first guarded, James had gradually grown to trust Mary.

  Eventually he disclosed that his parents had died when was eleven, and he’d fought his way through foster homes since then. Somehow James had reined in his aggression enough to graduate, and when he returned to the Academy as an aeronautics instructor, he sought out Mary to repay her kindness. They’d married within three months of his return, and she was soon pregnant with Jason.

  For the most part, their relationship had been happy. Although her parents had been concerned about her interracial marriage, James had eventually won them over with his charisma and devotion. The couple’s one ongoing disagreement involved James spanking the boys when they misbehaved. He insisted his sons needed structure and physical discipline to survive as men, and Mary tried to balance out the strict punishments with warmth and love, though she was certainly no pushover.