Chapter 9—Stick Checking

Jared hesitated in the doorway of the hotel bar. He couldn’t sleep after a hard-fought game in which he’d sat in the penalty box more than usual after losing his temper multiple times. They’d lost, and he hated losing. Not a great way to start a four-game road trip.

He had decided he could either lie in bed and beat himself up over every mistake he made, or he could chill with a brew and some nachos.

He hated to admit the source of some of his frustrations might be Steph. His family had left yesterday, and he’d tried to reach her, invite her out for coffee. She’d declined and told him to have a good road trip. Talk about flipping him the figurative finger.

Maybe it was for the best.

He did hear from the sisters. A week from today, they’d arranged another date with a different woman. Instead of looking forward to it, he almost dreaded it. At the least, he felt indifferent. But that kiss… He couldn’t get it out of his mind. He wondered how batshit crazy he’d be right now if they’d really kissed.

He needed to get a handle on his emotions. Hopefully, there’d be a teammate or two in the bar. He could talk hockey and forget about his non-love life for a while.

The lights were low, and a few businessmen in suits sat in one corner. A couple spoke in low tones at the bar, their heads close together. The only other person in the room was Drew. He was in a dark back corner reading a book, of all things. Not playing video games or texting or even checking Facebook. Nope. He was reading a book, and not just any book, but as Jared walked closer, he could see the title of the book. A Tale of Two Cities.

“Hey,” Jared said, sliding into the seat opposite his teammate.

Drew didn’t look up or even acknowledge him. Jared waited patiently. Finally, Drew closed the book and laid it on the table. He met Jared’s gaze. His own was blankly stoic.

Jared could congratulate him on a good game, but that would be lying.

“Tough loss tonight.”

Drew shrugged.

“We’re still in the thick of things.”

Drew stared at the cover of his book and said absolutely nothing.

“The guys are worried about you.”

Drew’s head shot up, and he glared daggers at Jared. “Tell them to mind their own fucking business. I’m fine.”

“Okay. Sorry.” Jared held up his hands. At least he’d gotten a rise out of the guy.

Drew’s hard expression softened slightly. “Just got some shit I’m working through. That’s all.”

“I know that story.” Jared pointed at the book. “You enjoying that? I’m more of a biography or mystery reader myself. Not much for the classics.”

“I never used to be much of a reader. No time between hockey and parties.”

“And now?”

“I guess I’ve outgrown the parties.”

“And hockey? Have you outgrown that?” Jared couldn’t stop himself from asking.

Drew met his gaze. His eyes were dark and cold. His face was carved in stone. “Maybe. That’s some of the shit I’m working through.”

Jared blinked a few times and attempted to hide his surprise that Drew had been so bluntly honest. He decided not to push for more info. “Stuff changes. That’s the only constant.”

“Do you love it?”

“Hockey?” Jared asked, incredulous.

“Yeah, hockey.”

“I live and breathe it. I can’t imagine life after hockey. You?”

“I never questioned whether I should play or not. Dad insisted on nothing less. I don’t know if I ever loved it.” Drew sighed.

“You might want to figure it out.”

“Lots of people work in jobs they aren’t in love with and still perform at a high level.”

Jared didn’t agree with Drew’s logic. To compare pro hockey to an office job was plain ridiculous. Drew was crazy talented; he could get away with not having his heart in the game—for a while. They were about to embark on a Stanley Cup run, and every guy needed to give one hundred and ten percent. Drew was from hockey royalty. His father had played for fifteen years and was one of the top scorers of all time. Even non-hockey fans knew his name. Jared wondered what kind of pressure that put on his son. Jared’s dad had been a grinder, a guy who worked his ass off and never got much attention but was devoted to the game at the expense of all else, including his family. His dad hadn’t been around enough to put pressure on Jared. When he was home, it was all fun and games.

“Hey, I’m too sober to be so melancholy. Let’s talk about something else.” Drew raised a glass to his lips. “How’s your love life?”

“What the fuck is a love life?”

Drew actually chuckled. “That bad?”

“That bad, but there is this one girl.”

“Fuck, don’t you ever learn?” Drew raked his fingers through his hair and groaned.

“It’s been enough time. I like being part of couple. I’m a one-woman guy.”

“Do I know her?”

“Nah.”

Drew rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated snort. “Next time you’re stupid enough to think you have to marry the girl you’re screwing, let me have her checked out. Save you some grief.”

“Checked out?” The abrupt change in subject caught Jared off guard. Drew probably regretted talking about himself, something he rarely did.

“Yeah, I take karate lessons from a guy, former Special Forces, who just opened a PI firm. He can find out shit for you. His brother is a whiz on a computer. If there’s dirt, he’ll dig it up.”

Talk about stuff dropping into his lap. He’d been thinking this very thing only a few days ago. “I might take you up on that.”

“Whatevs. You know where to find me.”

“And by the way, I’m not screwing her. We’re just friends.”

Drew shrugged, disbelief as plain as day on his face.

“So you take karate lessons?” Jared had never heard Drew mention martial arts, but then, Drew never mentioned much of anything.

“Yeah, I love it. And you can count on me to have your back.” Drew’s sullen expression transformed in the blink of an eye. His voice was animated rather than monotone. His eyes lit up in a way that they never did when talking hockey.

“Next barroom brawl I’m in, I’ll be sure to invite you.”

Drew almost smiled, not much, just an imperceptible tilt of one corner of his mouth. “Martial arts builds coordination and muscle control, not to mention strength.”

“Okaaay.” Working out and skating took most of Jared’s free time. He didn’t need to take on a hobby.

“Anyway, you want someone checked out, let me know. I’ll have you talk to Bronson.”

“Sounds good.”

He’d never been of a suspicious nature until Candy. In fact, he’d been naïvely trusting, which was how he’d gotten into that hot mess of marriage in the first place. All he’d wanted was a loving, forever marriage, and lately, the blank face of his wife in the family portraits he imagined wasn’t so blank anymore. That face had blonde hair and blue eyes and a sweet smile.

Was he crazy, or was there something there?

Maybe on both counts.

 

* * * *

 

After the flurry around the Thanksgiving holiday, Steph was anxious to get back into her daily routine. Though there were times she wondered what the heck that was. She’d spent another weekend bundled under the covers watching Hallmark movies and reading hockey romances. She was hiding from life, and she knew it, but no one could blame her. She needed more time to recover and heal, and she needed to stay away from Jared Roderick.

No good would come of a friendship with Jared, because she couldn’t trust herself around him. They’d proven that last week. And, of course, he was a guy. What guy wouldn’t take what was offered?

Steph wasn’t sure she could hold herself back from offering.

Monday night, things started up again. The kind of things that shifted her mind from Jared to survival. The phone calls with nobody saying anything on the other end of the line. The heavy breathing. The fear of being stalked.

Be careful what you wish for…

Steph hated being afraid. Hated it. Hated the fear that racked her body and made her sick to her stomach and made her hands shake. She hated being unable to eat for fear she couldn’t keep her food down. She hated being a coward and a prisoner in her own home. She hadn’t told anyone about the stalker, but the way Izzy and Bella shot her sideways glances during the party they were crashing on Friday night indicated she wasn’t very good at covering up her anxiety.

Steph wanted to go home and lock herself in her cozy little apartment and forget about everything. She’d drown herself in a good book with a happy ending. She could do none of those until the party ended an agonizing two hours later.

She sighed and waited near the banquet room door for a ride home with Izzy. The crowd had been a tough one, made up of older men and women who were celebrating the release of what Steph considered a very dull literary novel. Loosening up this strait-laced group was like trying to get a laugh out of the Buckingham Palace guards. Not that she’d ever been to London—or anywhere, really—but she did read a lot.

She looked up and down the street, fearing Gino might be out there somewhere, watching her. All week she’d felt someone was watching her. The hair would rise on the back of her neck and a chill would rush through her. She’d thought Izzy had been right behind when she’d walked out of the banquet hall. She tried the doorknob, and it didn’t turn—locked from the inside.

Vi mentioned she’d found out through a mutual friend where they’d once worked that Gino was in jail on a minor assault charge. Typically Gino would get someone else to do his dirty work, but Steph knew him well enough to expect him to resurface at some point.

The door opened, and Bella walked out. Her eyes narrowed with determination, and Steph swallowed. Bella wrapped her fingers around Steph’s arm. “We’re going to a have a drink. Izzy’s heading home. I’ll give you a ride after we’re done.”

“I don’t really drink much. I’m tired, and I’d rather go straight home, but thank you for the offer.”

Bella glared at her. “I didn’t ask you if you wanted to or not.”

“Oh.”

“You and I are going to have a chat.” Bella strode down the sidewalk and Steph followed, not knowing what else to do. Bella was formidable on the best of days and scary as hell on the worst. Steph dragged her feet, but Bella shot her a withering look that had Steph wanting to melt into the floor and disappear.

Reluctantly, she joined Bella in a dimly lit hotel bar a few doors down from the party venue. Bella ordered a whiskey and water while Steph ordered a Coke.

She opened her mouth to offer one more protest, but the intensity of Bella’s expression caused her to shut it before saying a word. She stirred the ice cubes in her Coke and waited. Steph wasn’t going to be set free until Bella said whatever she felt compelled to say.

“I know that haunted look,” Bella said, getting right to the point. The harshness in her voice faded, leaving unusual softness.

“What haunted look?” Steph wrung her hands and avoided Bella’s gaze.

“The look of someone who’s been traumatized. I’ve been there.”

Steph lifted her head. Bella had her attention now. “How so?”

“I was beaten and almost raped by a stranger.”

Steph met Bella’s gaze and absorbed this bit of information. “I’m sorry.” She’d known something had happened to Bella but hadn’t asked anyone for details. She had to admire Bella’s courage. She didn’t seem to let anyone or anything intimidate her.

“And you? Who put that haunted look on your face?” Bella’s gaze searched hers, and she waited patiently for the answer.

“I wasn’t raped, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not exactly.” Steph spoke so quietly that Bella had to lean forward to hear her.

“What does not exactly mean?”

“My old boyfriend could be rough.”

“How long were you with him?”

“Since I was eighteen.”

“Did he beat you?”

Steph’s eyes were hot with unshed tears. She couldn’t speak without making a fool of herself. “Yes. Among other things.”

“What other things?”

“Izzy didn’t tell you?”

“Izzy said to ask you.”

“He abused me and made me do things I didn’t want to do. He cut me off from my friends and family, and he—” The tears started to flow freely.

Bella rose from the other side of the table to sit next to her and put her arm around Steph. “It’s okay. I want to help. Talking will make you feel better. What other things did he make you do?”

“He forced me to strip for money because he couldn’t hold down a job. I hated it. All those men leering at me, making lewd gestures and rude remarks. I hated every minute of it. And I suck at dancing. Not that any of the men cared. They were looking at my tits and my body, not my dancing.”

Bella squeezed her shoulder but said nothing. She waited.

“He beat me if I didn’t make enough in tips, or he’d find other ways to torture me. He was careful not to leave marks, because that would’ve cut down on the tips. I danced at the same place Vi did—Dancing Girls, Inc. I wasn’t in the Women of Ink show, but on before them. It was a nice club. No touching. No lap dancing. I wasn’t making enough money for him, so on my off nights, he forced me to strip in a sleazy club where there was lap dancing. He got a job in security. Said he’d protect me. He didn’t. He let them touch me when I was doing my lap dance.” She shuddered and grabbed a napkin, holding it over her mouth, retching.

“I’m sorry, Steph.” Bella rubbed her shoulders.

“I ran away when he told me he’d arranged for me to strip at a private bachelor party and I’d better be willing to do whatever the guys asked of me. I knew what he meant, and I couldn’t do that. I called Vi, and she rescued me, along with Matt.”

“Oh, honey, that’s brutal. But you took the hardest step. You got away from him. You’re healing. You’re living the life you should’ve lived.”

Steph shrugged and wiped her face with a bar napkin.

“Are you getting counseling?”

“I’ve had some,” she lied.

“Good. Does he still come around and bother you?”

“He’s in jail right now so he can’t.”

“You have the haunted eyes of someone who’s being hunted. You’re always looking over your shoulder, and lately you’ve gotten jumpier. Did something happen?”

Steph spilled it, unable to keep the incident inside anymore. She had plenty of other secrets to hold on to; this one needed to be let out of its cage.

“Does Izzy know this?”

Steph shook her head.

“Tell her. Coop can install an alarm system. We can make sure you have transportation. You shouldn’t be walking back and forth to the sisters’ house even during daylight hours.”

“I have Otto.”

“Otto? He’s harmless.”

“I know,” Steph admitted. “But there is an alarm system. Coop had it installed a month or so ago.”

“Good, but you’re still telling Izzy. Or I’ll make your life a living hell.” Bella said this last bit with a smile, but Steph believed her words nevertheless.

“Okay, I’ll tell her.”

“Promise? Because if you don’t, I will.” Bella crossed her arms and leveled Steph with a determined glare.

“I promise.” Steph sniffed and blew her nose.

“And Vi, too.”

“Yes, and Vi.”

“Good. What happened wasn’t your fault. Remember that.”

“I was the weak one. I believed him no matter what he told me, and I couldn’t seem to get away. He was so sorry whenever he hurt me… Promised he’d never do it again. I wanted to believe him. Heck, I thought I was in love with him. My parents hated him, and when I got pregnant, they tried to convince me to leave him. I wouldn’t. Instead, we ran away.”

Bella’s brow furrowed. “Where’s the baby?”

Steph looked down and wiped her eyes again. She hiccupped and bit back a sob. Everything inside her spasmed with an uncontrollable pain. It ripped through her as sure as the sharpest knife and left her gutted. “I lost it.”

“I’m sorry. So very sorry.” Bella reached over and patted her arm. Somehow, Steph managed to hold it together, but it took super-woman strength.

“It was just one of those things.” She glanced up at Bella and saw the disbelief in her eyes. Bella clearly suspected Gino played a part.

“You must tell Izzy and Coop about his threats.”

“I will,” Steph agreed again, even though she didn’t want to involve them. They’d done so much for her already. What if Gino was vindictive enough to hurt them or Riley and Connor? She’d never be able to live with herself. She’d made a huge mistake unloading to Bella.

“Could we go now? I’m really tired. I need to get some sleep.”

Bella nodded. “Sure. You’re not alone, Steph. You have us. All of us. We care about you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

And it did. She was on the road to finding herself and the woman she could’ve been until Gino surfaced.

Gino or no Gino, she could do this. And she would do this.

 

* * * *

 

Jared sat down in the coffee shop and waited for his date. He was ten minutes late, but not so late she should’ve left already. He glanced around. Midafternoon on a Tuesday, the place was all but empty except for an older couple and a couple of college-aged girls. They looked up and giggled when they saw him.

He turned away from them and walked up to the cashier. After ordering a mocha, he said, “Was there a single woman in her earlier, mid-twenties? I was supposed to meet someone, and I’m late.”

“There have been a few women fitting that description. What did she look like?” The middle-aged barista regarded him through thick glasses.

Now this was embarrassing. “I don’t know.”

“I see.” The barista arched her brows. Oh, yeah, she considered him a moron. She might not be too far off the mark.

He’d planned on arriving a half-hour early, but he’d gotten hung up at the practice rink signing autographs for a peewee hockey team who’d been in the stands. He couldn’t bring himself to leave before every kid got what they’d come for.

He took a seat toward the back of the room facing the door. The college girls were glancing back and him and giggling all the more. One of them held up her phone and took a selfie with him in the background. It wasn’t long before they were gathered around him, begging for autographs and more selfies. He accommodated them graciously but blew out a breath of relief when they finally left the coffee shop.

The little bell over the door tinkled, and he glanced up expectantly. This had to be her.

His heart skipped a beat, his throat went dry, and his cock stirred to life.

It was her, all right—just not the her he’d been expecting.

Steph froze in the door, her beautiful lips slightly parted and her look one of surprise. She hadn’t expected to see him here.

Their gazes met and caught. He’d probably been watching too many Hallmark movies, but it was that moment when the hero and heroine looked into each other’s eyes and the entire world stood still. They were the only two people in the room, and even if they wouldn’t admit it, they knew Cupid’s arrow had pierced their hearts.

Jared’s world might be standing still, but his heart was doing cartwheels, and his dick was pulsing like a drum.

“Steph,” he said in barely a croak, breaking the spell cast between them.

“Jared.” On stiff legs, she moved toward him. “What’re you doing here?” She stopped at the table, and he indicated the chair next to him.

“Have a seat.”

She did. “Shouldn’t you be on a date right now?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but another no-show. Go figure.”

“How late were you this time?” She sounded exasperated with him, and he had to smile.

“Only ten minutes. What are you doing here?”

“The sisters sent me for lattes.”

“Really? I thought they were tea drinkers?”

“Me too. Go figure. Let me give them a call to see if they’ve heard from your date.”

Steph stood and moved a few tables away, her back to him. He couldn’t hear her muffled conversation, but he did have a great view of her fine ass in blue jeans. For once, the jeans fit, and she looked hot and edible and—

Oh, God. He couldn’t start this up again. She’d been his fantasy companion every night on the road trip. This insanity had to stop. He couldn’t keep driving himself mad like this. Something had to change.

She came back to the table and sat down. “They’re sorry. They’ll check into what happened.”

Jared’s phone buzzed. He looked down at it. Tell Steph to cancel order for coffee. Changed our minds. Could you give her a ride home?

He held it up, so Steph could read it. “That’s odd, but I don’t need a ride. Giles is waiting for me.” She pointed out the window where the Bentley was parked across the street. A second later, it pulled into traffic and disappeared.

“I guess you do.”

Steph laughed, and he felt the sound deep in his bones. Her laughter brought him joy like no one else he could imagine.

“Steph, I’m sorry about Thanksgiving. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault I’m skittish.”

He chuckled and reached for her hand on a whim, squeezing it. Her hand was so small and warm in his, and for a moment, he couldn’t stop staring at their entwined fingers. They both lifted their gazes at the same time, and the world stalled again. She gave a little tug, and he immediately released his hold. She didn’t jerk her hand away as expected, but let it stay against his palm for a second or two before tucking it in her lap.

“I haven’t had lunch, and I’m famished,” he said. “How about an early dinner? My treat. I hate to eat alone. Speckles down the road has a wicked happy hour menu.”

He should know; Speckles had become one of his go-to places since the divorce. He could get cheap beer and a decent dinner for very little money.

“Speckles?”

“Yeah, named after Gilbert’s cat. Gilbert is the owner.”

“I see. Do you go there often?”

“Yeah, I don’t cook much beyond coffee and frozen dinners.”

“Coffee isn’t exactly cooking.” She giggled, and her eyes lit like the northern lights.

“It is to me. So how about dinner?”

“You’re on.”

Mom had always told him if he played with fire he was sure to get burned. If the heat in his groin area was any indication, he was going to ignite.

She was a friend, damn it. He could have a female friend without turning it into something else. Now if only he could get his dick to agree.