Partner Games
Page 27

This was the worst thing I’d ever heard. My poor Georgie. No wonder she was so fragile, so emotional right now. I squeezed her knee. “What happened last month?”
“Oh, the usual.” Her smile was bitter. “I got invited to a party boat for a few actors and big industry names overseas. I went and it was little more than a pussy auction. They were just handing us out like we were trophies, and we were dumb enough to go along with it. Just fucking blow-up dolls. Model Barbie, that’s me.” She shook her head. “The guy my agent gave me to? The guy he swore was going to get me the big jobs? That it was going to be my breakthrough to Hollywood and the next rung of my career?” Her expression went flat. “He raped me. I said no and it didn’t matter. He raped me and then let his bodyguards rape me. And I told my agent, and you know what he said?”
I felt like ice. I wanted to shut her up, but I needed to know. I needed to let her tell me everything. “What did he say?”
“He said that the man complained. That I was a lousy fuck and if I knew what was good for me, I’d try to have more fun next time.” Her bitter smile crumpled and she began to sob.
I pulled her into my arms, stroking her hair. Oh, Georgie. My poor twin.
“That’s when I had to get out,” she cried onto my shoulder. “That’s when I needed to start over. That’s why I wanted to go on this race. But I’m fucking it up, aren’t I?”
“No, of course not,” I soothed her. Truth was, I suddenly no longer wanted to be on the race. Not after hearing that from Georgie.
I wanted to be anywhere but here.
 
 
Chapter Seventeen
 

“When did one person’s smile become so damn important to me?” — Swift, Team One Percent, The World Races  
 
“I’m sorry,” Georgie said to me as she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. “I hate that I told you and brought your mood down.”
I grabbed Georgie’s shoulders – noticing just how thin she was – and gave her a little shake. “Don’t be ridiculous. You are my other half. I love you more than anyone else in this world. If you can’t tell me what’s bothering you, who can you tell?”
Truth was, I was more than a little hurt that she didn’t tell me until now. I shuddered inwardly to think of all the times Georgie had been abused by those dickheads and had put a smile on her face like nothing was wrong. To think that I’d had no clue. My stomach churned when I remembered that Georgie’s modeling had paid for my doctorate schooling. I’d trapped her with those abusers because I’d wanted to get a shiny ‘PhD’ behind my name.
My belly clenched, and I barely held back the urge to vomit.
Georgie hugged me again. “I just…wanted you to know why I am having such a hard time sometimes. Most of the time I’m fine, but then someone says something that makes me feel like I’m stupid, or I shouldn’t be here and…” she hunched down, her shoulders drooping. “It makes me feel like less than nothing. And I freak out. Like I’ll never be more than just a moderately pretty face. My agent always told me looks faded fast, and I needed to make hay while the sun shone.”
“If I ever see that asshole, I’m going to punch him in the dick,” I told her viciously.
Georgie looked startled, and a giggle escaped her. “I love you, Clemmy. You’re the best sister a girl could have.” She hugged me against her, and then pulled away. “You know, I feel better now that you know. Not so alone.”
I managed a smile and touched my twin’s cheek. “I’m glad. You know you can always talk to me, right? I’d never judge you.”
She nodded shyly and then flung her arms around me, hugging me again. “You want something to eat? I’m starving all of a sudden.” She hopped to her feet and stood, stretching. “We should probably carb-load for tonight’s tasks.”
“You go ahead,” I said. “I’ll catch up.” I patted my stomach and came up with a lie. “I’m a little under the weather this morning and thought I’d make use of the field restroom.” The hut was charming, but there were no real toilets, so it had been rather…improvisational.
She giggled and made a face. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
I waved as she left, and then when I could no longer see Georgie’s long, lean body as she walked back down the side of the mountain, I let myself go.
Hugging my knees to my chest, I wept. I wept for my twin, and for the happy, joyous person she’d been. I wept because Georgie was my other half, and she’d been abused by those she trusted.
And I wept because now her burden was also mine. I felt as if I’d aged ten years in a half hour.
 
~~ * * * ~~
 
I hid out for several hours after that. The afternoon was surprisingly peaceful, and I didn’t want to leave the hillside. The cows left me alone, and Georgie didn’t return. Maybe she sensed I needed some time to myself. Whatever the reason, I appreciated the downtime. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to talk or be social. I just needed to be alone with my thoughts about my twin, and the sense of utter failure that I felt. I should have known my twin was in danger and protected her. At the very least, I should have been there for her when she needed a shoulder to cry on.
I’d failed her.
I was still miserable and moping when I returned to the campsite sometime later. It was getting close to dinner, which meant a lot of the teams were about to leave. I felt a twinge of regret that I hadn’t been able to spend the day cuddling with Swift, but I squashed it immediately. How could I possibly think about myself in this situation? From now on, my focus would be Georgie first. Georgie above all.
Romance could wait.
As I returned, I saw that the camera crews were in place near the mat, and a few teams were prepping their bags. The tents were broken down and Georgie sat on a picnic table with Doctor Moms, idly chatting. Our bags were at her feet.
Plate and Swift were on the mat, holding their next clue. I’d missed the chance to talk to Swift. He looked up as I came into camp, and his gaze devoured me, then lingered on my face. I was sure my eyes were puffy from crying, but I met his gaze steadily.
He started to step off the mat toward me, only to have a producer grab his arm. “No, you can’t leave.”
“I need to talk to Tiny,” he said, handing the clue to Plate, who looked less confused and more exasperated. He shoved it back into Swift’s hands.
“Now’s not the time, bro,” Plate said. “Save it for the next stop.”
“We have a very tight schedule,” the producer said as he tried to come over to me again. “You have thirty seconds before things start.”
I just gave him a faint wave. “We’ll catch up later.” I tried to give him a cheery smile but it wobbled and turned into more tears.
That broke him. Swift shoved the clue into Plate’s hands and stormed toward me. When he got to me, he cupped my face in his hands and gazed into my eyes questioningly. “You okay?”
“Fifteen seconds,” the producer snapped. The team next up was twitchy, waiting for their turn on the mat.