Chapter 1

 

 

The air smelled like seaweed and salt water as it rolled over the sand. Elena didn't know how she knew what the ocean smelled like, having never smelled it before, but somehow she recognized it when she stepped off the gate and found herself standing in the middle of a crowd.

People were pushing past one another, sidestepping between couples, and dodging little kids attached to their mother's hands. It was overwhelming. There was no place for Elena to stand and absorb her surroundings. She would have very much liked to stand back out of the fray and just watch, taking it all in. This was her first time visiting the Pacific coast, and even the airport could have offered her a little bit of distraction. Instead, she was forced to follow the stampede, and struggled to make her way to the conveyor belt where her luggage was on display for anyone who felt like taking it.

She sifted through the navy blue and black wheeled suitcases until she found hers and snatched it up. Then she walked back into the crowd. Her phone started vibrating as soon as she found the exit, but she couldn't answer it because she was sandwiched between two men the size of sumo wrestlers. She couldn't even reach into her pocket.

Elena figured she would just call him back, but by the time she had squeezed herself out the door and into the parking lot, he had already called four times.

“What?” she answered, a hint of irritation in her voice.

“Where are you?” Tripp sounded upset.

“I told you. I'm in Ocean Beach. I took a job out here.”

“You never told me. I drove all the way down to your house this morning. The lights were off and the blinds wide open. It was completely cleared out. Are you leaving me, Elena?”

“No. I'm not leaving you. I put my stuff in storage because I knew I was going to be gone for a while. Tripp, I've been telling you about this for the past three months. You never listen. Half the time you interrupted me before I even started to tell you. You'd think that if you were so worried about me leaving you, you'd listen to what I have to say.” She dodged out of the way, barely avoiding a man pushing a luggage cart the size of a smart car.

“So you are leaving me. I knew it. You didn't even have the decency to tell me to my face. Instead, you just disappeared. After everything we've been through. You ran off without saying a word.”

“I'll be back, Tripp. I love you and I want to be with you, okay?” She used a softer voice, hoping he would listen.

“You can't deny you're unhappy. We've been fighting for years.”

“I want to be with you.”

“Just say it, Elena.”

“Do you want me to break up with you, Tripp? I mean, it sounds as if you do. You didn't even listen to me when I tried to tell you I was leaving town. You literally tuned me out for the past three months. I told you I was leaving yesterday. And what was your response? Okay, baby,” she mocked him.

“Are you leaving me, Elena?”

“No.”

“But you want to get away.”

“I need to. It's not because of you.”

“Yes it is,” he countered.

“You're right. It is,” she said as she started walking to the line of cabs next to the curb.              

“I love you, Elena.”

“I love you too, Tripp.”

“Alright.” He hung up sounding disappointed.

“Hey,” Elena turned to her right at the sound of the voice, and saw there was a taxi driver staring at her. “You need a ride?”

“Sure. Could you open the back?”

He popped the trunk and let her in. “Where to?”

“Big One Arena, please.”

“Got it.”

The freeway was a death trap. The only way they were able to get through the grid-locked traffic was by dodging back and forth between lanes, and there were a couple of times when Elena was certain they were going to sideswipe somebody. She didn't know how she was going to survive on roads like this. I was a good thing she had decided to wait a bit before she rented a car. Otherwise, she might have killed herself the second she left the exit ramp.

When they finally got back onto the city streets, Elena sat back and closed her eyes. She didn't really feel like going into the office right away, she wanted to get a hotel and lay down for a couple hours, but that wasn't going to happen.

Tripp was in her head, screaming. Her heart was still racing from the death race on the freeway, and all she could think about was how unfair he was being. He didn't have to put so much pressure on her. She really did love him. Of course they fought. They were a couple. It would be impossible for them to live a peaceful existence when they were spending so much time together. That was the problem. If she just got away for a little while, it would give her the time she needed to treat him the way he deserved. She wouldn't be so tense, so angry with him all the time. It seemed like everything he did bothered her these days, and he felt the same way about her. 

He was still the one. He would appreciate her and take care of her. She wouldn't have to work. She could start a family and raise her kids in a wonderful home. She wouldn't have to worry about whether or not she'd have food or the money to buy the things they needed. Tripp would make sure that her life was easy. Elena didn't want to give him up.

But he was distant. They would go out to eat and he'd look at everything but her. He'd mindlessly nod his head and smile while she was talking, but she knew that he was never listening. Sometimes she'd say funny things to catch him and he would just acknowledge what she was saying without even noticing.

The spark was gone, and she wasn't sure they were going to get it back. She wasn't even sure she wanted it back. She wanted the life he had to offer, but she didn't want the man he was becoming. Elena wanted a relationship based on something real—passion and trust. Because they had been seeing each other so long, it seemed they'd gotten comfortable… complacent. Elena didn't want to be comfortable. She was wanted to move forward and be a part of something. Something real.

The arena's black steel structure came into sight long before they reached it. It was sitting high above the rest of the city, on the top of a hill bordering the coast—a man-made monolith filled with brightly covered screens and light towers. It seemed unnatural against the beautiful coastal backdrop. 

She hated sports, especially football. In her mind, it was an antiquated tradition that only served to suck up money and attract filth. She wanted as little to do with it as possible, but she needed the job. She made a living taking out the trash—fixing marriage scandals, bad hair days and all around craziness so public figures and businessmen could look good in front of a camera.

The problem was that people out in the Midwest where she lived weren't all that picky about their public figures. They were too busy with the daily grind to care. So her image consulting firm was tanking, and she wasn't making it. So, she had broadened her horizons and wound up where her services would be needed the most.

The west coast was a haven for celebrities and their drama. Everyone was in the tabloids and if they weren't, they were trying to be. Ocean Beach was the perfect place for her to revitalize her career.

Elena found her way to the private entrance in the back of the arena and followed a series of empty corridors until she came to the elevator that would take her to the top floor. The place was rugged. There were no frills, no decorations, just bare steel and black painted walls. They didn't even bother to fix the paint that had worn away around the elevator buttons.

Elena wanted to challenge herself, and she believed that working with athletes was the best way to do that. If she could make these would be felons the size of apes look good, then she could make anyone look good. The elevators opened up to a long reception area with posters lining the walls and a row of cheap metal chairs sitting under them. It reminded her of a run-down old dive bar that couldn't afford tables and booths. The only thing that set it apart was the young woman sitting at the reception desk wearing a white shirt that barely covered her chest, and enough makeup to paint the Mona Lisa.

“Hi,” Elena's heels clicked against the tile floor.

“Hello.” When the receptionist looked up from her phone, Elena could tell there wasn’t much happening behind her blank stare.

“I have a meeting with Chance in ten minutes.”

“Watch,” she laughed. Then she turned toward the back and door and leaned back in her chair.

“What are we watching for?” Elena asked, curious.

“Just wait,” she folded her legs and smiled.

The door shot open and hit the wall behind it, lodging the doorknob into a hole in the wall. Elena stepped back. The man that emerged was a model of pure, unadulterated anger, packed into a tight Latino package.

“What?” He cocked his head to the side and trained his eyes on her. He was clearly imbalanced. Elena was worried he'd run up and slam her to the ground. He could do it. The man had arms the size of tree trunks, and a body like a bear. Dread rushed down her spine and settled in her gut. She was in danger, but there was nothing she could do about it.

She waited while he stared at her, terrified that he would hurt her, but he didn't. Instead he walked past with a cocky smile and shook his head.