Shark Bite

by K L Montgomery

  “I missed you,” he breathes out against my skin, his words rising like steam into my ears. “I don’t even care what happens with rugby at the moment. I need to know you’re not mad at me.”

  Being in his arms feels like home. I mean, I know I’m actually standing in my home, but with Shark’s big, strong arms wrapped around me, it feels even more like home. Double home. I hear his heart beating away beneath my cheek, like he’s nervous I won’t accept him for who he is.

  “I’m not mad, but I am upset you didn’t tell me before I had to find out from Matt.” I slowly withdraw from his embrace and take a step back so I can see his face, watch his expressions as I tell him how I feel. How he reacts to this will tell me a lot about whether or not we can do this, make this work. I can’t walk on eggshells around him. I need to be able to talk things through. I’m a talker. So far, he’s not been a talker at all.

  “I wanted to.” He jerks his chin up to look into my eyes. “I was waiting for you to respond to my apology, and I even tried coming over here, but you weren’t here.”

  “I was with Lindy.” I blow out a long breath of air. “Come on, let me get you something to drink.”

  “You got any more of that whiskey and lemonade?” His eyes sparkle as I glance over my shoulder to see him following me into the kitchen.

  I chuckle at the boyish smile on his face, catching a glimpse of that kid I knew all those years ago. He’s under there somewhere, under the facial scruff, muscles and tattoos. The eyes are the same, but the adult version is so much worldlier…on the very border of jaded. I don’t know if they’re too jaded to let me into his world. I pour the two glasses of whiskey and lemonade and slide one toward him, just like I did a couple of days ago. Feels like a lifetime ago now, it’s been such a crazy week. It’s probably only going to get crazier until things finally settle down after the carnival.

  “I want to tell you everything. I know it doesn’t look good on paper—but I had reasons for what I did. And I did my time. I’m a better man for it.” He takes a swig from his drink and sets the glass on the table before swinging his leg over one of the barstools across from me. Elbows on the counter, I lean toward him, ready to soak in his side of the story and make up my mind for myself, just like Lindy told me to do.

  “When my mom moved me to Pennsylvania, it was to be with her boyfriend Gary, who was my martial arts teacher, and his son, Travis. He was a year older than me, but we were in the same grade in school because he’d failed in like first grade or something. As soon as my mom and I moved in, Travis started bullying me—and he never stopped.”

  Shark takes another drink, as if he needs to take a break in the middle of the story. He’s not used to speaking this many words at a time, I realize.

  “He made my life miserable all through the rest of elementary and junior high, and high school was no different. He was a jock, and he had girlfriends, but he was only interested in screwing them and then finding someone new. Well, then, he made the mistake of dating one of my female friends, Callie.

  “I tried to warn her about him and how he used girls like toys, then got tired of them and threw them away, but she was infatuated with him. Bragged to all her friends how she was dating the quarterback, and all that. She was a shy, kind of nerdy girl, usually pretty quiet. But dating that asshole made her confident, bubbly, popular. She pretty much ditched me—told me I was jealous of Travis. I told her she was going to regret ever going out with him, but she wouldn’t listen.

  “After homecoming our senior year, a bunch of people were going to this big party at the head cheerleader’s house, and it was widely known through the rumor mill that Callie was going to give up her virginity to Travis at the party. However, I knew, and a few other people did, that he had cheated on Callie with some other girl the weekend before when Callie was out of town with her parents—but nobody would tell her.

  “Travis was being such a douchebag after they lost the game that night. He was pissed and out for blood. I was afraid he’d hurt her, plus he was drunk. I went to the party solely to keep an eye on her.”

  “Oh, no…” I raise my hands to my lips, the feeling of what probably happened next creeping up my spine, right at the same time a bolt of lightning strikes right beside the house, followed immediately by a deafening clap of thunder.

  At that moment, the lights go out. Of course they do, right?

  “Wait a second…” I open the drawer next to the silverware and pull out one of those camping lighters. I have a candle around here somewhere. “I want to hear the rest of the story.”

  Moving my hand along the back of the counter, I find the scented candle I burned a few days ago and manage to click on the lighter and find the wicks. Suddenly, Shark’s face is illuminated, his features flickering in the light cast from the dancing orange and blue flames of the triple-wick candle.

  “Mmm…is that cinnamon apple?” He breathes in deeply.

  “Yep, trying to make it smell like fall in here.” I chuckle. “Alright, back to the story.” I lean back on the counter and give him my attention again, the candle glowing between us. “What happened at the party?”

  He stares down at the wavering flames that cast shadows across his face while gleaming in his pupils. “I found them in one of the back bedrooms. He was trying to get her clothes off, and she was screaming for him to stop.”

  I gasp, even though that was pretty much what I expected to hear, though I hoped for a different outcome.

  “I pulled him off her, and he punched me right in the face. It wasn’t the first time he’d punched me, and it wouldn’t be the last. I punched him back, of course. And he was drunk, so I got a couple damn good shots in…”

  “I don’t understand, though,” I interrupt, bringing his eyes back to mine. “Why did you get locked up if he was trying to…you know…” I have a really hard time saying the “R” word; it’s just so terrible.

  “Because,” he tells me, “she didn’t want anyone to know what had happened. If her parents found out she was even at the party, or that she’d let a boy get half her clothes off. If she’d had to testify, and was under oath and was grilled about what she’d let him do to her before that night…”

  I sigh and shake my head. “Victim-blaming. Got it.”

  He nods. “It sucks. I couldn’t see her go through that. So I made up some story that I was jealous of him and some other girl he liked, so I beat him up. I even admitted I swung first—”

  “Why would you do that?” I stare at him in awe. “You fell on your sword for her…like you did for me and Walt over this thing with the kids. Why?”

  “Because I can,” he utters, his voice barely above a whisper. He downs the rest of his drink and drops it onto the counter loud enough to make a sound as another lightning/thunder combo rattles the glass in the windowpanes.

  “You should stand up for yourself too,” I encourage him. “Not just other people…”

  “I have strong shoulders, Meg,” he tells me. “First, my brother beat up on me when we were really little. Then Travis. But, to be honest, my first bully was my dad. I’m used to it. I’m used to being the underdog. Maybe that’s why I love rugby so much. As soon as I’m underestimated, that’s when I make my move. That try you saw me score on Saturday? That’s what happened there. A bigger defender let me slip right by him; he didn’t think I was fast enough, strong enough. But I showed up. I owned him.”

  If I wasn’t certain I was falling in love with him before, now it’s crystal clear. Like when the sun finally pokes through the clouds after a storm. Shark is so much more than I could have ever hoped or dreamed. I’d mistaken his quiet but gruff demeanor for apathy. For selfishness. But it turns out he is always attuned to others, looking to see who he can protect.

  “What happened with the bicycle shop?” I hate to change the subject, but I need to know.

  “That asshole came down and purposely tried to ruin my life,” he shares, holding his glass out in a silent plea for a refill.

>   I pour him another serving. “Travis?”

  “Yep. After all those years, he decided to seek out revenge—because, of course, he lost Callie to me that night, and he couldn’t bear to think I might make a success of myself after he’d beaten me down, tried to make me feel worthless for so many years. He drove all the way down here to vandalize my shop…and wrote, strangely enough, some of the same words Walt used out on the pitch that got us into trouble. And he broke some windows and was a nuisance, you know? Only I didn’t know it was him. I couldn’t afford video surveillance, and I assumed it was some punk-ass local teen. So one night I stayed in the shop all night, waiting for the asshole to show up.

  “I’d already hit him with a bat before I figured out who it was. I hadn’t seen him in years. But then when I realized it was Travis, well…I fucked him up pretty good—”

  “Hence the court-mandated anger management…”

  He nods. “Yeah. They thought I went a little overboard. I pretty much bashed the crap out of him. He lived, though. But at that point, they unsealed my juvenile records for the case, and I didn’t do any time, but I did have community service and the anger management stuff. And I sold my business to pay all my legal fees. My mom hasn’t spoken to me since.”

  “Wow…I see…”

  “Right. So, honestly, I don’t even know if I can get a loan for the carriage company because of all this. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, because I never finished the paperwork, and I must have ripped it up the other night when I was so angry.” He shrugs. “The for sale sign is already up. I was out at the farm last night, and there’s nothing I can do now if my dad wants to sell it.”

  I don’t tell him I dropped his application off at the bank today. Maybe he’s right that he won’t be able to get a loan, but if he does… I would really like to see the carriage company stay in his family. And maybe he could pass it down to his kids someday.

  That thought shoots a bolt of energy down my spine. I shouldn’t be having such crazy thoughts.

  “I’m so sorry.” I reach for his hand across the counter, and he allows me to squeeze it, but he seems unfazed by it all.

  “It’s just another in a long series of slaps to the face I’ve dealt with my whole life.” He cracks a smile as his shoulders lift into a shrug. “Honestly, Megan, I don’t know why you’d want to get involved with someone like me.”

  I’m still holding his hand, but I need more of his body. More of his touch. I let go and walk around the counter, where I stand, facing him. “I made you a promise almost thirty years ago, Shark.” Tears well up in my eyes as I realize what I’m about to say. It’s probably too soon. It’s probably going to push him away, but they’re words that need to be said before they burn a hole in my tongue. “I’m not about to break that promise now that you’re back in my life.”

  His chin quivers ever so slightly as his eyes bounce between mine, the candlelight dancing in his pupils as they grow glassy. Maybe not with tears per se. But there is a sheen of emotion there when he absorbs my words and their meaning. “I want to be the man you think I am…” is how he chooses to respond.

  “You can be, Shark.” I lift on my toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “You already are…”

  “I don’t want to break my promise either.” He cups my face in his hands and draws me close enough to brush his lips against mine.

  My heart melts as our bodies press together. Outside the storm rages on, but in here, it’s finally beginning to calm.

  23

  Megan and I have been nearly inseparable since the night of the last planning committee meeting. This carnival has taken over our lives, though. Sure, we’ve spent some time pursuing extracurricular activities, but when neither of us are working, we’ve been going full throttle into promo mode. She even has me posting on social media, and I hate social media.

  I talked to Matt about the partnership with Beach Buddies, and though at first he was beyond angry I’d continued to associate with Max even after I resigned my volunteer duties, he understood why I couldn’t say no to the kid. Matt still doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to work with any of the kids right now, but at least I feel like I’ve been vindicated.

  So…I’m pretty pumped about our game today. A team from the Washington DC area is headed for our pitch as we speak, and I’m ready to kick their asses all the way back to the Potomac. Megan has done everything she can do to plan for the carnival, which will start shortly after the game. As a matter of fact, most of the vendors and the petting zoo and other attractions will be setting up during the game. It’s all hands on deck, and she is in her element, directing everyone where to go and what to do. For some reason I enjoy seeing my girl boss everyone around. I don’t want her to boss me around, of course, but bossing everyone else is pretty hot, actually.

  The October sun is warming the grass as the Riptide take the field to run a couple of drills and loosen up our limbs. Our coach confers with Walt on the sidelines while I run the pack through a couple of warm-ups. Megan warned me that her parents are coming to the game, and she’ll want to introduce me before I get all sweaty and dirty, so I’m keeping my eyes peeled for them.

  It’s actually not Megan I see first approaching the sidelines but my stepmom. She’s never been to one of my games before, and I invited her, knowing she and her boys were going to be bringing the trailer with the horse and carriage for the carnival. I thought she might want to come early and see me in action.

  “Hey, Kathy!” I hustle over to the edge of the pitch and wrap her up in a huge bear hug. I’m so unbelievably happy to see her, to finally have someone in my family support this crazy passion of mine.

  “So where’s the girl?” she asks, her eyes darting around the field.

  “What do you mean, girl?”

  “Oh, come on, Shay. When you came out to help on the farm last week, there was a spring in your step. And I know it’s not because your dad and brother finally skipped town. There’s someone special in your life, isn’t there?” The way her eyes are twinkling, there’s no way I’m going to be able to deny it, either.

  Especially since, it is, of course, the exact same moment Megan and her entourage come around the bend in their procession toward the sidelines. She’s accompanied by two middle-aged people who must be her parents, plus Meric, Lindy, Drew and Sonnet. Not far behind her is Matt, his wife and presumably his kids. He waves before they head over to a shady spot under the cover of one of the tents we set up.

  “Hey!” I turn my attention toward Megan and crew. “Welcome to the pitch.”

  “Mom, Dad, you remember Shannon Kelly?” Megan introduces in her best PR voice.

  Mr. Adams extends his hand, laughing. “You’ve grown a bit since we last saw you!”

  “I can still see a bit of that boy I used to know in your eyes,” my mother contributes. She doesn’t accept his hand for a shake; instead, she pulls him into a big hug.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Adams, this is my stepmother, Kathy Kelly.”

  “I’m Martin, and this is Beth,” Megan’s dad says, shaking Mrs. Kelly’s hand.

  “Not Marty and Beth who were friends with Tom and Jocelyn back in the day?” she asks, looking Megan’s parents up and down.

  “Why, yes! We really are infamous!” Mr. Adams laughs.

  “Tom mentioned you from time to time. Said losing his friendship with you two was the worst thing that came out of the divorce.”

  Everyone laughs, but Megan glances at me with care in her eyes, then reaches down to take my hand and squeeze it. She knows why that comment stings, even though my stepmom doesn’t mean anything bad by it.

  “So, I think I know why you’re called Shark,” her mom pipes up, wisely changing the subject. “I seem to remember you having a little run-in with a shark when you and Megan were playing on the beach one day. The lifeguard had to rush in and pull you out!”

  I chuckle now, the sound rumbling up my throat. “Not exactly. I got the name in college. It’s from my name. Shannon
Aric—with an A—Kelly. ‘Sh’ from ‘Shannon,’ ‘Ar’ from ‘Aric” and the ‘K’ for ‘Kelly.’ My first rugby team gave me that name.”

  The team that really did change my course in life. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for those guys. I never thought I could amount to anything until my teammates gave me the respect and support I’d never gotten before. They were the family I’d never had. They made me want to be a better man. Kind of like Megan does.

  “Oh my god! I can’t believe I never figured that out!” Megan gasps, punching me in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You never asked!” I wrap my arm around her, pulling her to my side. I see the look in her mom’s eyes like her heart is melting.

  Walt hustles over, giving me a look that says, “hurry up!” I give him a thumbs up, and he beams, then throws a nod over at Megan and Lindy.

  “That’s our team captain,” I tell everyone, “and he’s asking me to wrap this up.”

  “Hope you have a great game,” Mr. Adams says. “I’ve never seen a rugby match before, so I’m pretty excited.”

  “Ask Megan to give you a play-by-play; she’s an expert by now.” I shoot her a wink, and she rolls her eyes as she leads everyone away. She must have invited Kathy to join them because my stepmom follows along.

  Interesting that she’d heard of Megan’s parents before. I don’t remember my dad talking about them at all, but even if I had, I doubt I would have put together that Marty and Beth were her parents. Even with all the ground we’ve covered in the past week and a half since we officially began dating, we haven’t been able to figure out why our parents got along so well. My dad never liked anyone but Declan. I guess it will remain a mystery now that my father is gone. He doesn’t know about Megan and me—and truth be told, it’s none of his business.

  The other team has arrived and are warming up on the opposite side of the pitch. They look strong and fast, but we have a little bit of size on them, especially in the pack. I’m hoping being well-coached and having a great leader like Walt on the field will give us the edge, but there’s only one way to find out.