Catching Callie_A NEW ADULT & COLLEGE SUMMER SPORTS ROMANCE

by Claire Woods

  “HELP! HELP US!” I scream. “My five-year-old brother is gone! And it’s all your fault!” In disgust, I shove a few to the ground, running for the water. I sprint into the surf, diving straight under the crest of a breaking wave. “CHARLIE!” Frantically, I dive under opening my eyes fighting the sting of salt as I search underneath the water.

  I don’t even remember if we put his swim vest on since we were playing in the tidal pool.

  Wave after wave slaps my face as tears fall and I scream his name.

  “Callie!” Gabe grabs my arm, but I shove him away diving under again.

  He hauls me up out of the water. “They found him.”

  “Where!”

  “He’s okay. He’s by the concession stand.”

  Sprinting out of the surf with Gabe right beside me, I don’t care about the cast of onlookers gaping. I just need to get to Charlie and make sure he’s safe.

  “Charlie?” He’s sitting with an ice cream cone in hand flanked by two lifeguards and a bike cop.

  “Cawwlie? Am I in trouble?”

  “What happened buddy? You know not to run away.” Bending down in front of him, I cup his face.

  “I didn’t. I wanted to help.”

  “Help who?”

  “The pretty lady who lost her puppy.”

  Holding him close against my chest, his ice cream smushes against me but I don’t care in the least.

  “What did she look like, bud?” Gabe asks, placing a hand on his head.

  “Pretty. Very pretty. She was crying, scared that her puppy got scared by all the cameras. He can’t swim. So, I helped her look. But then she remembered her friend took him home, so she bought me an ice cream for ‘my troubles.’ When I looked up, she was gone.”

  “Did she tell you her name?”

  “No.”

  “What color hair did she have?”

  “Blonde like Rapunzel. She had pretty eyes too. Very blue. She had a nice smile and smelled good—strangers, aren’t pretty and smell good, right?”

  “Sometimes, the evilest people are the prettiest ones on the outside, bud.”

  “She said. You were bad.” He points at Gabe.

  Gabe kneels down next to me. “I need to ask you one more thing,” he hangs his head, taking a deep breath. Taking out his phone, he taps the screen then holds a picture out for Charlie to look at. “Was this her?”

  “YES! See? I knew she wasn’t a stranger.”

  “Who is that?” The police officer asks.

  “My, ex, Jackie Delaware.”

  “I’ll call it in.”

  Gabe calls Steve at the same time cop presses the radio clipped to his shirt and speaks into it.

  “Steve? Yeah, we have him. It was my ex, who took him with some bullshit story about a lost puppy. Yeah, ok, will do.”

  “Take him home. I’ll get your Mom and our things.”

  I can’t even look him in the eye. I love him, but everywhere he goes—chaos follows.

  GABE

  IT’S BEEN THE DAY FROM HELL. I’ve never been so scared as I was in the ten plus minutes Charlie went missing. It happened so fast. One minute, I was shielding Gayle and him from the paparazzi—then in the next, he was gone.

  Fucking Jackie.

  I knew she had problems but attempting kidnapping? That’s only one of the charges she’s facing. The Sea Spray police found her flashy Mercedes stuck in traffic. She obviously didn’t plan her getaway very well. She attempted to lie her way out of it claiming that she indeed did have a puppy. But no one bought it. It turns out she was holed up in a cheap rental. Steve called telling me to meet him there.

  Closing my eyes, I rub my fingers over my lids sitting back in the driver’s seat. I drove out to the bluffs just needing a minute.

  Jackie is borderline certifiable.

  She had pictures of Callie and me everywhere. Well, what was left of Callie after she cut her haphazardly out of the photos. She left scribbled notes with dates and times of where I was. Obviously, she was the one tipping off the media. Now that she’s behind bars, I’m hoping shit will calm down.

  But somehow, I don’t think it will.

  Callie’s home number flashes across my cell.

  “Babe?”

  There’s silence. “It’s Eric. She doesn’t want to see you. I called Wes and canceled your romantic getaway.”

  “Hate me much?”

  “Can you blame me? Ever since you came into our lives—my daughter’s been dragged through the press both clothed and unclothed; my son got kidnapped and my wife dying from cancer is your latest victim. Images of her kneeling broken in the sand made the front page.

  “Fuck.”

  “Exactly. Take a page from the playbook—take a knee and let the clock run out.”

  “I can’t do that. No offense, sir, but I’m a born fighter. I’ll never stop fighting for your daughter.”

  “Sometimes… you don’t always win. It’s just the way it is.”

  He hangs up.

  “FUCK!” My fists punch the wheel. Tearing the driver’s side door open so hard I almost take it off the damn hinges, I storm out of the car. With my hands fisted in my shorts, the wind blows hard as I stare at the pounding surf slamming against the rocks below.

  The clock is running down. But I’m not taking a knee. I don’t have much time, but I’ll be damned if this is the way everything ends.

  Hunching over, I sit on the ledge, thoughts as wild as the waves crashing beneath me. In my heart, I know there was some truth to Eric’s words. I was victim to things out of my control—the cheating allegations, suspicions of doping, the press capturing sacred moments with my girl and now Jackie’s twisted plan of revenge. Steve thinks she planned to do worse and actually take Charlie somewhere. In her rental, we found maps of state parks with hiking trails highlighted, zip ties and rope. But at the last minute, she just left him there with an ice cream cone.

  Thank fuck for small miracles.

  But I’m resolute in what I need to do now. I’ve felt it for days—this overwhelming need to give Callie the only thing left—hope.

  ***

  “She still doesn’t want to see you.” Sophie stands in the door cracked open by three inches.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Suit yourself.” The door shuts in my face.

  There’s no more story to get besides the one sure to print in tomorrow morning’s edition.

  Shuffling around back to the side of the house, I take a seat on the sea wall right on Callie’s favorite spot.

  “I always wanted to make the front page. But not like that.” Gayle’s voice comes from the shadows behind me.

  “She won’t leave Charlie’s side. Even sang him to sleep. She blames herself more than you—she won’t forgive herself for falling asleep.”

  “She’s exhausted. Worked her ass off this summer between the café, marina, and classes.”

  “She won’t have to do that anymore.”

  “Because you’re giving up?” I mutter, springing up, angry at her; at the world, for not giving Callie and me a clear path.

  “How dare you speak to her like that?”

  “Callie?” I breathe, my heart stopping in my chest as she walks out of the shadows.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I came out to clear my head… needing to think about us. Thank you for making what I’m about to say easier.”

  “Don’t. Don’t baby.” I rush forward placing my index finger against her lips.

  She steps back.

  “It’s too much. I can’t, Gabe. Please understand…” She breaks off, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “I do understand. But it’s all behind us now. I’ve been cleared of everything… Jackie’s been detained… she was the one tipping off the press about everything.”

  “But there will always be the next Jackie. Someone—somewhere, trying to tear us down.”

  “I wish I could stand here and promise you there won’t be. But it’s part of being a professional
athlete. But don’t you trust me—believe in me—that there will never be anyone else for me but, you?”

  She shakes her head. “I can’t. I can’t give my all to making a relationship with you work when I need to stay here, spend these last months with my mother. Then eventually, I’ll finish my degree. Who knows where you will be? How would we ever make it work when your season starts next month and after that—your professional career? You could end up anywhere. Besides, I’m not sure I’m cut out for the life you’re destined to live.”

  “The only place I wanted to end up—was with you. But I can’t keep chasing you, Callie. I won’t. At some point, you need to meet me—halfway.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I love you.” He steps forward, hands cupping my face as he kisses me one last time.

  I nod, trying not to cry.

  Love.

  It’s so precious, makes you both strong and weak, but when it goes—it’s cruel—ripping you apart into a million shreds. He hesitates wanting to say more but stops short. He looks at me for so long his gaze is a magnet drawing me to him, but I’ve flipped over, and this time don’t move. I stand still, melting from the heat in his gaze as it roams over me one last time before finally turning away. My breath comes out in a whoosh. I was so consumed in him I forgot my mother was still here until she speaks. “Forget cancer. The look he was giving you—even gave me heart palpitations.”

  “Was that a breakup? I’m not even sure.”

  “I think it is… unless you change your mind. Go, Callie. Run after him—change your mind.”

  “I will—if you will.”

  “Brat.”

  “Well, you raised me—so if I am, it’s on you.”

  “I’m in the mood for a hot fudge sundae with extra whipped cream. Now that chemo’s ended, I finally want to eat. Are you in?”

  “Sure. But only if that includes finishing season two of The Crown.”

  “Ah Callie, girl, I have a feeling this family hasn’t seen the last of Gabe Parker.”

  “How can we? When he’s everywhere. Now the ghost of him will be everywhere, too. I’m sorry, I don’t feel like ice-cream anymore.” Choking back a sob, I run to my room, my chest is so tight I can’t breathe.

  Elliott.

  Gabe.

  Mom.

  Somehow circumstances always leave me with the remains of love that’s left behind.

  JACKIE

  “I’M INNOCENT. PLEASE… BELIEVE ME.” I bat my mink eyelashes at the officer, pouting demurely. But he’s not buying it. I should have kept up with my acting classes.

  “His name was Bailey. He was a rescue pup I picked up by the side of the road. Please, he’s out there…” I break off. He stops, standing closer. I hide my smile, noting that my cleavage is popping since the cuffs are still on pinning my arms behind my back. He leads me to the interrogation room. It’ll be my fifth time today in that room.

  “Do you even understand the trouble that you’re in?”

  “No? I didn’t do anything…”

  “They have you on surveillance.”

  Dammit. I didn’t think of that.

  “Can I at least use the bathroom? I’ve had to pee for hours.”

  He grunts stopping outside the restroom releasing me from the cuffs.

  Ugh, I look like roadkill. No wonder my superior damsel in distress routine isn’t working. Wetting a towel, I wipe the smudged makeup off, biting my lips for color. My fingers work through the tangles in my hair, and I fluff it a few times.

  Not bad.

  “Times up.” He raps on the door.

  I walk out hoping my primping does the trick. “Turn around, hands on the wall.”

  “Yes, officer.” My voice was breathy, and I made sure to stick my ass out as if I’m getting ready to be plowed from behind. Gabe always made me come so hard that way.

  Gabe.

  It’s all his fault. He had to go get the perfect sweetheart of a girlfriend, live in that perfectly cute beach house, getting ready for another perfect season.

  But I’m far from feeling perfect. But I’ll be damned if he’s going to win. I’ll find a way to come back out on top.

  I’m fucking Jackie Delaware, beauty pageant winner at Oklahoma’s state fair three years running, former pageant queen and the future Mrs. Somebody.

  The cuffs bind my wrists again, but I’ll admit it’s kind of hot. Maybe that’s where I went wrong. I should’ve been freakier in bed.

  Yes! That’s it! I’ll up my bedroom game, get into that kinky BDSM shit that’s all the rage and make myself into the perfect little beauty pageant slut with just enough class—my next mark will go insane if he doesn’t make me his little “wifie.”

  “Ms. Delaware?” A fat, balding man stands up, spectacles perched on his nose as I enter the small room. “I’m Carl Rogers, Sea Spray’s public defender. If you confess maybe the judge will show leniency since you have no record. You might get away with community service time.”

  “I didn’t do anything. He was lost, I bought him an ice cream.”

  “That’s not what the boy is saying.”

  “He’s what? Five? His mother’s sick….it’s my impeccable word against his.”

  “They have you on tape.”

  “At the concession stand, buying ice cream like I said. I found him nearby; I did something nice.

  “They found your pictures and notes in your rental.”

  “Well, shoot.” I bat my eyelashes, “So, I didn’t handle my break up well. Since when is a broken heart a crime?” I bend over the table, noticing how his eyes shift to my girls. His hand comes up to loosen the tie around his neck. I bet that’s not the only item of clothing feeling tight.

  “So, what do you think? Are you good enough to get me off?”

  His face turns red at my double entendre.

  “I-I’ll try.” He stammers like a fool.

  “Try hard. I have somewhere I need to be.” My mind’s racing. I’m done at UVA, but there are plenty of other colleges in the south filled with athletes who could go pro. I need to get back to campus and fire up Google. Whoever I find with the most potential… that’s where I’ll put in for my transfer. I could start fresh—hell, I could even change my name to Jackie Parker after all. Wouldn’t that just be fitting?

  Laughing so hard I can’t stop; my attorney looks at me as if he’s scared out of his mind. “We could say your break up caused you to suffer a mental breakdown….”

  I laugh harder, like Cruella de Vil. I belong in a Disney film, but I’m not the princess—I’m Ursula, the sea witch with better hair. And one of these days—the evil queen will reign.

  Gabe

  THE POUNDING OUTSIDE MY DOOR has my springing up from the couch. She came.

  I knew she would.

  Hitting pause on the game tapes Coach sent by Fed-Ex, I hurdle the couch to get the door.

  “Parker! Where’s the party? We’re all safe and have one week left till Coach hands us our asses in pre-season.” Marcus, Trey and Logan, our new QB from Tampa, crowd the front door.

  “The three of you smell like desperation. Did you douse yourselves in an entire bottle of Chrome?”

  “Hey—the pickings have been slim on campus this summer. We’re on the prowl for beach honeys tonight. Besides, we heard what Jackie did. I always knew that bitch was no good.”

  “Yeah, bro. Get dressed, we need to represent and what you got on won’t do it.” Marcus eyes me, before heading towards the fridge.

  I shrug not caring in the least that I’m wearing flip-flops, gym shorts, and a white undershirt.

  “Damn, homes, there’s no beer? What are you onto now, the hard stuff?”

  “I didn’t drink all summer. I was training hard.”

  “Yeah, that’s not all you were doing…”

  “Shut the fuck up, Trey,” Marcus warns as my fists clench.

  “I’m sorry man. She was just a summer hook-up, though, right?”

  “No. She wasn�
��t.” I open the front door wide, “now get the fuck out. Before I haul your asses out.”

  “Whoa. Chill… we’re staying, bro. I’ve never seen you like this.” Marcus sits on the couch, crossing his legs as he props them on the coffee table.

  My head drops, staring at the floor, hand still holding the door open. “I’m not in the mood for company.”

  “We know. That’s why we’re staying.”

  “Fuckers,” I bite out under my breath.

  “Yup. But we got your back, bro. On and off the field. We’re going out.”

  “Beachcombers?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Fine. But you’re buying. I’m dead broke.”

  “Done. Just remember to pay me back when you sign for first multi-million contract.”

  ***

  “Parker, what’s up?”

  “Hey, Banger.” I greet him with a fist bump and a clap on the back.

  “Sorry to hear about Callie’s mom… and that drama with her brother being almost kidnapped.”

  “Yeah, last week was rough. She dumped me over it.”

  “Shit. That sucks.”

  “Yeah. I’m not getting over her anytime soon.”

  “Any chance you could reconcile?”

  I shrug, sipping the beer Marcus bought, “it’s me. The fame—it’s only going to get worse. Callie needs to focus on her family and finishing her degree… somehow being with me was fucking all that up.”

  “My breaks about over… hang out after closing. I’m throwing an after party.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Banger takes his place behind the DJ table on the stage, lights start flashing, fog machines turn on, and the dock shakes with the force of hundreds of people jumping to the beat he spins.

  I’m easily recognized after being splashed everywhere the past few months. With my practiced, forced grin in place—I pretend to enjoy the attention from the dozens of girls asking for selfies with me as they press their bare legs and arms against my side. Some even pinch my ass as they lean close, smiling.