Savage Vandal (82 Street Vandals #1) - Heather Long Page 0,74

his breath as he followed him, and for just a few seconds, I was alone with Doc.

“Remember what I said,” he told me. “I’ll give you a few minutes to warm up.”

“Yes,” I told him. “I do.”

He paused, gaze fixed on mine, and goosebumps rioted over my skin. He gave me a single nod.

“Be patient. It might take a while to get everything where it used to be.”

I let out a shuddering breath as he exited, leaving me alone.

He’d help me.

I just had to be patient.

Chapter 19

Emersyn

I stared at the mirrors on the far side of the room for several long seconds after the door closed behind Doc. The racing of my heart left me lightheaded and more than a little dizzy. Worse, I was so tempted to run out behind him and beg him to get me out of here now.

Not only would that be stupid, it would also be ineffective. Jasper wasn’t likely to let me go anywhere with Doc. The overzealous leader of my self-appointed guardians had a real hard-on where Doc was concerned. Fine, I just had to assuage Jasper’s worries so he would loosen his grip.

I could do that.

Closing my eyes, I worked on getting my breathing under control then turned to where the stereo was. There was a stack of homemade CDs. The one on top bore the label, Emersyn’s Weird Warmup Shit.

The next one bore the strokes of a black Sharpie and the title Happy shit.

The one below it was Depressing as fuck.

The corner of my mouth twitched. There had be a dozen CDs. They even had one with the show’s title on it. A cold feeling inched up my spine. It had begun growing when Rome detailed what my favorite shoes were. My clothes. My preferred shampoo. My preferred soap. Sure, they could have gotten all of that from my hotel room.

Now these CDs with music they’d apparently put together from what I liked or used. The apprehension wound tighter in me. How long had they been planning this? Stalking me? I used to muse I’d been living in a cage for years. So what did it say about me that I was putting their CD into the player and hitting play before I took a few steps back into the studio they’d set up for me?

Gilded cage?

No.

But this cage didn’t scare me to death.

The first bars of the music washed over me, and I tilted my head back and closed my eyes as I began to stretch.

Arms up, I stretched them. Oh, it felt so good to reach for the sky with both arms free. The air was so cool against my wrist and forearm. The muscles protested the stretch, but I ignored them. The first song was slow on purpose as I rolled through each set of steps. Lunges that got deeper and deeper. Back bends. Loosening the IT bands. Rotating the shoulders. Flexing the wrists.

While I’d made sure to stretch every day, this was different. I descended into a slow split, controlling the descent with only my muscles in my inner thighs, all of which screamed at the intensity. Stretching each day wasn’t pushing myself. I pointed my toes to increase the stress on my calves and lower back as I leaned over my right leg and then my left.

I repeated it until there was no pull left and everything was loose. Back straightening, I planted my hands on the floor. The music was a slow descant, a remix of something, but I barely heard it. The beat was absent and it remained slow, all mournful horns and harmonic counter melodies from the piano, as though the two instruments warred over who controlled the song.

My arm was weaker and the bone newly healed, but even if pain waited at the other end of this move, pain could be compartmentalized. It was a slow, punishing process to roll all of my weight upward as I balanced on my hands. Upward and over my shoulders until I was completely inverted, legs stretched out to either side of me, still in the split.

Balanced.

Even.

The protest in my muscles was profound.

But I could do it.

I could still do it.

The tremble in my muscles warned me so I rolled out of the hand stand and onto my feet. The rush of blood from my head took a moment, and then I did a cartwheel, and another, and another. Bare feet flexing against the floor as my blood seemed to pump harder as the music segued