by Huss, JA
He deserves lots and lots of points for that.
And I'm pretty sure he's pissed off about Ford and Spencer making me go up to the bike shop this weekend, but he handled that well, too. We haven't had time to talk about the next job Spencer wants to offer me, but I'm open to considering it. It's not modeling, and that's good. I don't want to model any more. I've had enough. This contract will pay me a lot of money and I bet if we really do get a whole season of shows on the Biker Channel that will pay pretty well too. Granted, the show is about Spencer and his bikes and body painting, but if I wasn't an important part of that I wouldn't be Spencer's first choice. Plus, by the time that contract comes up I'll sorta be famous all on my own. They'll have to offer me something nice, or else why would I take the job?
They don't know how much I hate this naked stuff. In fact, I should stop whining about it so they think I want to take another job, that way I'll have a better chance at negotiating more money if I do get the contract. I could just tell them how much other offers would pay and make them match it.
I smile at this and then turn the TV off, change into some shorts and a t-shirt, and slide into bed.
Exhausted, but not scared.
Chapter Twenty-One - Rook
I'm ready right at five this morning but Ford never comes to my door. I can see him out on the terrace, sitting backwards at one of the stone picnic tables on the side of the building, not facing me. He's just kickin' it, like he's got all the time in the world. I watch him for a couple minutes to see what he does if I don't come out. He never checks his watch or even hints that he's waiting for me. Just sits, his arms resting comfortably on the table, his legs stretched out in front of him.
I open my door and he looks over at me and then gets to his feet. "I was beginning to wonder."
"Wonder what?" I ask as I walk over to him.
"If you would show up or blow me off because you have Ronin to run interference now."
"Hey, a deal's a deal, right? And besides, I was watching you for like five minutes and you never once looked like you cared if I came or not."
"I'm not forcing you to come."
"Well, technically, Ford, you are. You asked for this deal and I agreed."
"Yes, but do you really think I'd put the cameras back in if you refused to run with me?"
"Yeah."
He looks over at me with a crooked grin on his face. "I wouldn't, Rook. So if you'd like to skip out, feel free."
I say nothing, just follow him over to the studio door. He holds it open for me, and we walk down the stairs and cross the street. We go to the upper level seats this time and Ford doesn't say a word. Just sets his watch, to time himself I guess, and takes off running up the stairs.
For some reason starting at the bottom and going up seems harder to me. When we run the lower stairs we start at the top and it feels different going down. I trudge up, walk over to the next set, then stomp back down. I'm not as winded as I was the first day, so by the time Ford stops to check his time and head back towards me, I've covered a significant number of rows. I watch Ford's expression as he runs towards me. It's flat. Well, no, not really flat. It's more like a grimace. Like he's determined or something.
When he gets near he stops to catch his breath, leaning over like he always does, like he's about to heave. "Why do you run like that, Ford?"
"Like what?" he asks, uprighting himself briefly, then bending over again. He's so sweaty it drips off his face and plops to the ground.
Surprisingly, this does not gross me out. "Like you're trying to catch someone."
He doesn't look up this time. "Maybe I'm running away from something?"
I shake my head at him. "No, I don't think so. You're not someone who runs away."
He smiles and straightens up, his breath back to normal now. Which means this guy is in awesome shape. Because if that was me, I'd be on the ground gasping like a fish on the beach for like an hour. "You're right. I'm not running away. I never look back, I only move forward."
"Interesting," I say before I even realize the words are coming out.
"What's interesting about it?" He moves forward towards me, his eyes locked on mine. When I back up I find the wall behind me. I press against it as Ford takes a few more steps towards me. "Are you a runner, Rook? Or a chaser?"
I swallow because he's very close now, only a few inches. He's as tall as Ronin, easy. So I have to turn my head up a little to match his gaze. "A runner," I whisper.
He places his palms against the wall on either side of my body, but he keeps those few inches between us. "Do you look back?"
I shake my head, still transfixed by his stare. "No," I say, gulping a little bit of air. "Or, at least I try not to."
He removes his hands and waves me towards the door that will lead inside to the breakfast burritos. "And how successful are you at moving forward right now?" he asks as we pass through the door and walk down the lobby hallway that curves around the stadium, following the smell of food.
"Well…" I let out a deep sigh. "I'd say average. I'm not dwelling, but I'm not over it yet, not completely, anyway."
He stops walking and grabs my hand. "Over what yet?"
I laugh it off a little and shake my hand free. "I've had a rough life, Ford. I'm new money."
"Ah," he says, like I just gave away a piece of vital information. "So that's why Ronin likes you so much. You are damaged."
"Hey, that's fucking rude. I'm not damaged. I had a problem, I took care of it, and now I am moving forward."
"Then you're a chaser, Rook. Own it, if that's what you are."
"I'm neither, Ford. Or, maybe I'm both at the moment. I'm not ashamed that I ran. It was the best decision I ever made."
"How did you get here?"
"Where?"
"This moment in time. How did you end up here, inside Coors Field, running with me? Where did you grow up?"
It takes me back a minute because I'm so used to Ronin avoiding my past. I watch Ford's eyes as I consider if I'll answer him and he waits me out. Not making a move, not making a sound. Just calm. He exudes patience.
"Chicago," I finally say.
"OK, now tell me how you got here."
"I walked across the street with you."
He chuckles a little under his breath. "Did you fly? Drive?"
"Bus."
"Ahhh. That makes sense. So why Denver? What made you want to come to Denver of all places?"
"Well…" I go over to a table near the windows and Ford follows me. We sit across from each other, him facing the sun, and me with my back to it. "I was actually on my way to Vegas but I was sitting across the aisle from these boys going to Denver. And they were watching South Park on their tablet the entire ride." I stop to laugh because I love South Park. "And that stupid Cartman, he gets me very time, so I was eavesdropping, trying to listen for him to say one of his funny lines."
Ford's serious expression falters and he smiles with me.
"Anyway, they were talking about how those guys who made South Park went to the university in Boulder and since my dream has always been to go to film school, I figured it was a sign and maybe Denver was where I was supposed to end up, so I took a chance on fate and just… stepped off the bus."
I wait for Ford to say something but he just shakes his head and smiles.
"What?"
"I went to Boulder and majored in film."
"Hmmm. That's sorta weird."
He stares at me, his eyes bright as his mind takes this in. "Fate, you say?"
"Well, weird, at the very least."
"So you were compelled to get off a bus in Denver because of South Park and the CU Boulder film department?"
"Yeah, that's how it happened. I had nothing to lose, ya know? So why not? Why not take a chance here?" I shrug. "It seems to be working out OK."
Ford stands and I stand with him. "Thank you for telling me that, Rook. It's a great story."
"No problem. I'm hungry now, can we eat?"
&
nbsp; He smiles and we start walking down the corridor towards the smell of food and when we get close to it Ford guides me over to a table with his hand on my back. I take a seat but he stays standing. "I'll get your food. Stay here."
I sigh. Ronin would probably not like me talking to Ford about personal things, but Ford said Ronin likes damaged girls. No, correction—young, damaged girls. And that's me for sure. And I can't help myself, I feel the need to know more about this. If I'm just another project to Ronin, I'd like to figure that out sooner rather than later. I like him a whole lot and I don't want to get hurt.
Ford comes back and hands me my burrito and OJ, then takes a seat across from me and begins to chow down. I do the same and we are too busy chewing to talk for a while. He finishes before me, because he's a guy and every guy I've ever met has been a scarfer when it comes to food. He balls up the foil burrito wrapper and finishes off his juice and then starts with the questions.
"How long has it been?" he asks. "Since you ran?"
I think back and count the weeks. "About three months," I finally say with my mouth full.
"How long have you known Ronin?"
"About a month." I stay quiet, waiting for his next question, but he looks away, like he's thinking about my answer. "Why?" I finally ask.
"I'm just trying to figure out what it means that he claimed you."
That word almost makes me choke. "He didn't claim me, Ford. We're dating. That's it."
"Huh." He looks over at me now. "How many men, Rook? Not to get personal, but I'm just curious. How many men have you been with?"
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"Because you come off as very, very inexperienced. That's why. It makes you seem far younger than you really are."
I snort. "OK, I guess you're the expert in sexual experience, then?" I just shake my head at him. I'm not answering that question. It sorta pisses me off, in fact. I wrap my burrito back up in the foil and get up and walk away.
He catches up with me as I'm going down the stairs.
"Too personal?"
"Yeah, Ford. I'm sorry I told you that story now. You're gonna do something dirty with it, I can tell." I stop and look at him. My face feels so hot I wonder if I'll start crying. "Just leave me alone." I start to walk off but he grabs my arm firmly and doesn't let go, even when I try to jerk away.
"Wait. I'm not trying to upset you, Rook."
I whirl around. "Like hell you're not! And you're doing a good job of it too, because I like Ronin, OK? I like him and you've told me twice now that I'm nothing to him aside from some sort of project. That he's only interested in me because he has a sick hero complex. And it makes me feel…"
Jesus Christ, Rook. Why are you telling this guy about your feelings? Get a grip.
I yank my arm away and continue down the stairs.
Ford follows me but stays a few steps behind, then catches up and holds the door when I throw it open and go out to the parking lot.
"Makes you feel what, Rook? Used?"
I stop again. "Yeah, OK? You make me feel like he's using me. And he's not, you are! You're using me to mess things up between us and…"
"And what?"
I hold that in and keep walking.
"And keep you for myself? Is that what you think, Rook?"
"No, Ford. That's not what I think."
"Then your instincts are off, because that's exactly what I'm doing."
I stop again. "Holy shit! You are such an asshole!"
And then he smiles. And it's not a smile I've ever seen on him before. It's like all his other smiles were fake and I'm just now seeing real happiness on his face for the first time.
It disarms me. Completely. And he knows it because he moves closer to me, not touching me, but very close. It makes me uncomfortable and I look around, feeling guilty. There's no one else in the parking lot. There are a lot of cars on the street, but we're still a good hundred yards from the street.
"I won't touch you, Rook, don't worry," he whispers. "I'm not a runner and I'm not a cheater, either. Life is long, you are young, and I'm very, very patient."
My expression hardens, all traces of insecurities disappear in an instant and I look him in the eyes. "I'm not worried, Ford. Because if you touch me, I'll knee you in the balls so hard it'll be weeks before you can run stadiums again."
Chapter Twenty-Two - Rook
Ronin is waiting for me in the garden apartment when I get back. He's kicking back on the couch watching some news channel. "Hey," I say as I walk through the door.
He throws his hands wide. "Where the hell did you go?"
"I run stadiums with Ford in the mornings now, remember? It's a deal we made to get the cameras out of my bedroom."
"Stadiums." He thinks about this for a second. "Why?"
I huff out a breath. "I just told you to keep—"
"No, why running?"
"Well, I don't run," I snort. "I mope, shuffle practically. But Ford runs like a maniac. Like he's chasing—" I stop. Because Ronin has a weird look on his face. "Um, I'm not sure what's going on with you guys, you and Spencer and Ford, but you all could use a lesson in poker faces. That's all I'm saying. Because obviously there is something you three are not telling me and it's getting weird."
He turns away from me, hiding.
"Ronin," I say, sitting down next to him. "What's the deal? Is something wrong?"
He looks back to me and sighs. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just we have a very complicated history and—"
I wait a few seconds, but he turns away again, like he needs a moment to think of what to say. "And what?" I prod.
"This whole project is a bad idea. I don't know what Spencer was thinking."
"Because you and Ford don't get along?"
For a second I think he's about to tell me something really important. Like he's got words just aching to get out. But then his expression hardens. "What do you and Ford talk about? When you run together?"
Oh shit! Is he psychic or something? I suddenly feel guilty, even though I did nothing wrong. I'm not responsible for Ford's words. I walked away, threatened him even. "Nothing, really. He just said that I was too young to do this contract, it's probably a very big mistake, and he's not gonna be the one responsible if things turn out bad."
Ronin just stares at me.
"He says there's something wrong with me"—I leave out the part where he said Ronin only likes broken girls that he can try to save—"and exercise will help me cope or some shit like that."
Ronin is absolutely still and quiet, but I only have to watch his eyes to see that his mind is going crazy on the inside.
"Ronin?"
He lets out a long breath. "Stay away from him, Rook. No more running."
"Why?"
"Does it matter why?" He gives me a sideways glance. "If I tell you to stay away from him, isn't that good enough?"
I laugh. "No, it's not. I'm not your pet, Ronin. Maybe I'll run with him tomorrow and maybe I won't but either way, I won't be making that decision based on your orders."
"Since when is asking my girlfriend not to spend time with a guy I don't trust out of bounds?"
He's right, of course. Ford just made a move on me. Maybe not in a normal way, but that was definitely a move. "Ronin, I'm not a piece of property, OK? If you've got information about him that I should know, or you think he' s gonna hurt me—"
"Don't be dramatic, Rook. He's not going to hurt you."
"Oh! Me? I'm not the drama queen here, Ronin. That's you and Ford." I get up and walk outside, not really sure where I'm going, but fuck him. I knew it. I knew as soon as I let him have some control he'd start this caveman shit with me. And I've been there. I see the signs very clearly and right now they're flashing bright red just so I can't miss them. I walk over to the cherry tree swing and then the screen door slaps closed behind me and Ronin follows me over.
I settle in the seat and he's already apologizing as he walks.
"I'm sorry, Rook. OK? I don'
t mean to set you off like that—"
"Set me off like what? I walked out the door calmly, I'd hardly call that setting me off."
He stops in front of me and my feet scuff against the grass as I wait for him to answer. "You're a runner, Rook. You learned that if you've got problems you can make them go away by walking out. Or getting on a bus and just disappearing. So you walking out of our conversation was the perfect example of you being set off."
I laugh. "Sorry, my mistake. I didn't realize marketing degrees required psychology classes as well."
He walks over to me and takes my hand. "OK, just answer me one question then. What part of me asking you to stay away from Ford bothers you? Why do you care?"
"You didn't give me a good reason. If you want me to ignore him then tell me why."
"I—" His phone buzzes and he reaches into his pocket to check the text, saying nothing for several seconds. Then he texts back and turns to me. "Fuck. I have to go back up to Steamboat."
"What? Why?"
"Clare escaped."
Fucking Clare. It's like she's doing this shit on purpose.
"They found her in the nearby woods, so she's OK. But Elise says she's asking for me and the doctors are so pissed off right now, they might kick her out. I'll just stay one night, I'll be back tomorrow, OK?"
"Just like that? Clare's in trouble so you drop everything, drop me, to go save her?"
He steps forward, takes my hand, and pulls me up off the swing. "Rook, if you were the one who needed help I'd drop everything for you, too."
"But I'm good now, right? I don't need help. Now Clare needs you."
He shrugs. "That sounds like a loaded question, but I'm not sure what you're getting at, so yeah. That's about it. You know where the cars keys are, Gidge. Help yourself to the cars, or whatever else you need, OK?" He drops my hand and turns to leave.
"Wait! Why can't I come with you?"