Breaking Away
Page 1
Formatted by E.M. Tippetts Book Designs
Books in the Assassins Series
Taking Shots
Trying to Score
Empty Net
Falling for the Backup
Blue Lines
Breaking Away
Best friends are people who make your problems their problems just so you don’t have to go through them alone. This last year has been the hardest year of my life and without my best friends I wouldn’t have made it.
So this book is for you, Nortis, Bobbie Jo, and Stacey.
I love each of you so much more than you’ll ever know.
PHILLIP ANDERSON never thought it would be easy, but this was fucking ridiculous. Driving through downtown Minneapolis, Minnesota, he let out an annoyed breath as he searched the streets for his sixteen-year-old niece. After a very heated conversation with Phillip’s great aunt, Alice, he not only got cussed out, but he also inherited a very angry teenager. How did this happen? Everything seemed like it would work out after the death of his older sister, Rochelle, three months before. Claire would stay with Alice, and she would make sure Claire had a good life until she went off to college, or whatever the hell she wanted to do. Phillip didn’t know what that was, but not from lack of trying. Claire wouldn’t talk to him, all she did was glare, and he was sure she was planning his early death. However, who could blame her? After Rochelle had been killed, Claire was supposed to come to him, but when Alice offered, saying that a twenty-nine-year-old man couldn’t properly raise a teenage girl, Phillip jumped at the offer.
But now, he realized that it was a mistake. Maybe he would have been a better guardian than his seventy-three-year-old great aunt was. After only two months, Claire had run away four times, been found drunk in the back ally with a bunch of guys, found in bed with one of those guys, and then tried to physically fight Alice. She refused to go to therapy, she refused to talk to him, and he was at his wits’ end. He was tired of the angry phone calls from Alice, and that’s why he decided to fly out to Minnesota. He thought he might be able to talk some sense into Claire but, when he got there, Alice informed him that Claire had took off again.
Thankfully, he had taken a leave of absence from playing hockey with the Nashville Assassins. He had never taken a leave but, thankfully, the owner and close friend, Elli Adler, completely understood and granted him the time off. This was good because he now knew this wasn’t going to be a quick trip. He was going to have to figure out how he was going to raise a sixteen-year-old girl and play in the National Hockey League. Not an easy feat. He was hoping it would be easy and he’d figure it out quickly, because he missed playing, but above all, he had to help Claire.
He had already lost his sister and mother; he couldn’t lose Claire, too.
Phillip understood that she needed help, and that she was acting out. She hadn’t had the easiest life. Rochelle was just like his mother, a strung-out stripper that cared more about her next fix than her child. Phillip got out of the situation early, but Claire wasn’t that lucky. Not that Phillip hadn’t tried. He tried plenty of times to get Rochelle to clean up, to let him take Claire until she was, but like they said, you can’t help someone that doesn’t want to be helped. So instead, Claire went through hell, and he hated that. That’s why he was driving around trying to find her. He couldn’t just give up or turn his cheek the other way, not like his mom had when he was growing up. He’d be damned if the only piece left of his sister would run around alone.
Something needed to be done; Phillip wouldn’t let Claire live the life his sister had. He hadn’t been close to Rochelle, but that was more her fault than his. She was ten years older than he was, and she resented him because he got his life under control, and didn’t follow in the path that she did. The only time they talked was when she needed money, and even though he knew she would just spend it on drugs, he sent it to her, for Claire, but it soon got old fast. Deciding that he wasn’t going to help again until she got help, he didn’t send the money she needed. The next thing he knew, he was receiving a phone call saying his sister was found raped and killed in an alley.
Even though everyone said it wasn’t his fault, he still blamed himself. He should have just sent the money, gave her what she needed. Not only for her but for Claire, too. Because of his stubbornness, his sister was dead, and now he had his hands full with a teenage hellion. Wasn’t the ideal situation for him, but it was his reality. As he took a turn onto Lyndale Avenue, because Alice said that Claire liked going to the Sculpture Garden, Phillip shook his head. This was insane. It was snowing so hard that he couldn’t see the road. It was colder than a witch’s tit, and he was cranky. He knew his life was about to change drastically, and it scared the living shit out of him. How was this going to work?
Deciding he would figure that out later, Phillip looked out the windshield, wishing it wasn’t snowing. He loved downtown Minneapolis. He had grown up there, and even though the apartment he lived in with his mom and sister never had heat and there was never enough food, he still loved his life outside of the apartment. He, too, loved going to the Sculpture Garden. There was a great pond out beside it that he used to play hockey on with his greatly used hockey stick and pads. That was where he learned to play, and it was also the place that Howie Dranning saw him play a pick-up game with a couple of kids. Howie saw something in Phillip, something that Phillip didn’t even know he had in him.
The next thing he knew, Howie was convincing Phillip’s mom that she needed to let him live with him so that he could train him. Phillip smiled at the memory of his mom freaking out and saying no, but somehow, Howie convinced her. Soon, Phillip was living in a big, three-story house with heat and food. He was surrounded by a good family and playing the greatest game ever. He had fallen in love with Howie’s daughter and life was good but, unfortunately, he fucked it up, losing the only family he ever had.
Shaking his head to get rid of those memories, Phillip pulled his rental truck into a parking spot, his eyes scanning the park for a sign of Claire. He didn’t see her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there. Hopping out of the truck, he locked it up and bundled up in his jacket as he trekked through the snow. He entered the first exhibit, but didn’t see anything. When he came back out, he heard faint music playing. It was nine o’clock at night, and the park was deserted except for the occasional bum here and there, so he knew it had to be her.
On any other day, he would have liked to enjoy the artwork, but he was so cold that he kept walking down the slick walkway, checking each exhibit for Claire, but he found no sign of her. With each step he took, the music got louder, and he picked up speed until he reached the end of the path. He could have gone left or right, but when he looked out into the open field where the Spoonbridge and Cherry sat, he could have sworn he saw something pink moving.
Claire.
Trekking through the elements, digging his hands deeper in his jacket, the music got louder with each step he took. After a good, long walk, he finally came upon his niece. She leaned against the cherry, her phone in her hands with her head leaned back, her eyes closed. She was so beautiful, with long, flaming red hair that cascaded down her shoulders. Her eyes were bright blue, like his, with soft features that favored Rochelle. She seemed to look more like her every time he saw her, and it only made his heart ache even more. He wished he could turn back the hands of time, but that wasn’t going to happen. The girl that leaned against a cherry with her phone blasting some loud devil music was his reality now, and he couldn’t fuck this up.
“Claire.”
She didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge him. He called out again, but either she couldn’t hear him or she was ignoring him. He was thinking the latter. He wanted to march over there, yank her off the spoon, and shake h
er until she got some sense in her, but that wasn’t going to happen since he wasn’t sure how thick the ice was that surrounded it. He needed to come up with some way to get her attention. When a snowflake landed on the tip of his nose, he smiled. Bending down, he got a big handful of snow, making a snowball, before taking aim and beaming her in the side of the head with it. She let out a shriek before turning to glare at him. He wanted to throw his arms up in victory, but he didn’t think that would help their situation.
“What the fuck!”
He rolled his eyes; the first thing on the list was to teach this girl to watch her fucking mouth. “Shut the music off.”
She glared some more, but she turned it off. Looking back at him, she asked, “What do you want?”
He wanted to say a whole list of things. He wanted his mom and sister back, clean and healthy so they could be a real family. He wanted to be at home, surrounded by girls who wanted to take turns on him. He wanted to be on the ice, the crowd screaming as he broke away and scored the game-winning goal. He wanted a lot of things but, instead, he was standing in the snow, freezing his balls off, while his niece glared and cussed at him.
“Get off that spoon and come with me.”
“No way, I’m not going back to that crazy cat lady. You got me fucked up.”
He wanted to smash his head in.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he said, “Claire, please come with me so we can go talk.”
“Talk about what?” she yelled. “About how you’re the reason my mom is dead, and I’m living with the crazy cat lady?”
Great, so she blamed him, too.
Swallowing back his anger and hurt, he looked up at the sky and said, “Claire, get the fuck off the spoon and come with me.”
So much for teaching her to watch her mouth.
“No.”
He really didn’t want to chance that ice, but it looked as if he didn’t have a choice. Looking back at her, he watched as she crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a defiant look. He took in a deep, calming breath and met her gaze, head on.
“Listen, we have a lot to discuss, and I can’t help you until you get up and come with me. Please Claire, its cold out here.” He paused for a moment, wanting to smile when the next thought came to mind. Instead, he just said, “I promise you, I’ll take you for waffles.”
Her eyes widened. He knew her weakness, and he wasn’t above using it against her.
“Right now?”
He nodded. “Right now.”
She looked down at her hands and took in a deep breath, before slowly sliding off the spoon. Taking her time over the ice, she came to his side and looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. It killed him to know he put those tears in her eyes. He should have just kept her with him. What had he done?
“I’m not going back to her.”
He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
“Come on, let’s get back to the truck before we freeze to death out here.”
They made their way back to his truck and, after starting it and waiting for the warmth to fill the cab, he pulled out of the parking spot and headed to the nearest Waffle House. It was a silent ride, but that was fine. He had no clue what he was going to say to her, but he knew he needed to say something. After ordering two All-Star breakfasts, which included eggs, sausage, hash browns, and, of course, waffles, Phillip looked over at Claire, and his heart sank. She seemed skinnier, and her face was sinking in. She was still beautiful, but where was the sweet girl he left when he was eighteen?
When Phillip left, Claire was five, with light, strawberry blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes, along with a quick smile. She was happy and sweet, and they were inseparable. He loved her so much, still did, and it killed him when he left, but he had to get out while the getting out was good. His mom was downward spiraling and, even though Rochelle was doing okay, he knew he couldn’t depend on her to change his life. He had to do it on his own. Unlike their mother, Rochelle was trying to be a good mom. She worked at Waffle House and tried to stay clean but, like he knew she would, she relapsed and went back to the life she had before Claire came.
Phillip wished he hadn’t left Claire, but what was he supposed to do? Maybe he should have fought harder when he turned twenty-one, but Rochelle wasn’t budging. “Claire is better off with a crackhead mother than some wanna-be hockey player,” she always said. When Claire glanced up at him, nervously ripping a napkin, his heart came into his throat. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, and he prayed they didn’t fall. Or maybe they should… maybe it would help. Hell, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he loved this girl, and he wasn’t letting her end up like her mom and his.
“I love you, Claire,” he said softly.
She shook her head, looking away, and he felt tears stinging his own eyes.
“Whatever.”
“No, it isn’t whatever,” he said, taking her hand in his. She tried to move away, but he wasn’t letting her go. She looked from their locked hands, up to his face, her eyes slit in a glare as her mouth made a straight line. He remembered when all she did was smile, and he wondered when the last time that happened. Her smile could light up a room, it was contagious, and he missed it so much. He missed her.
“You don’t love me. If you did, you would have never sent me to crazy cat lady, or better yet, never left me with my mom.”
Something broke inside him, but thankfully, he kept it together, holding her gaze as he squeezed her hands.
“I had no choice with your mom. She wouldn’t give you to me. You’re right about Alice, but I’m not letting you go now. I’m going to help you.”
“I don’t need help. I need a place to crash until I’m eighteen. Then I’m gone.”
She finally pulled her hands from his, crossing her arms. The food was brought to them, but neither of them touched it once the waitress left. This was going all wrong, and Phillip had no clue how to make it better. So he decided to go with what his heart was telling him to do.
“You do need help, Claire, and I’m going to give it to you. I have never stopped loving you, and I never will. I may not have been there for you before, but I am now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Claire reached for her fork, cutting a bite and pinning him with a look. He could see the hurt, the defiance, and the general lack of care for her life. She had been hurt, and he played a part in causing that pain. He hoped that between his love and therapy, she would get the help she needed.
She held his gaze for a long time, before she shrugged her shoulders and said, “We’ll see about that.”
Without another word, she plopped the waffle in her mouth. Her eyes said it all.
Get ready for trouble.
Shit.
“5, 6, 7, 8!”
Reese Allen stood in the middle of her studio as two of her senior dancers, Mallory and Brian, moved in perfect unison across the floor to “Endlessly” by the Cab. The cut of the song was magical. It had kept her up all night trying to get it perfect. It was worth it though, because watching Mallory and Brian dance to it was pure gratification. They were her best dancers—her go-to dancers when she needed something perfected. She came up with the dance three days earlier, as she stood in line at Subway, when the song started playing. She knew that people thought she was crazy as she moved to the gorgeous music, but that was how she did things. That was how her art was born.
Reese had been doing it that way since she was a kid. Of course, her parents and older sister, Harper, thought she was crazy, but Piper, her twin, never thought so. She just joined in with Reese. It was great to have a partner, but even when Piper wasn’t there, Reese was always dancing. No matter where she was, or what she was doing, choreography was always in her head, always wanting to come out of her. It was surreal and such a rush when she got it completely perfect. It was like she was giving birth to this perfect little baby, and when she paired it with amazing dancers, magic happened.
Reese believed at a very young
age that she would be something big one day. She trained since she was three in all forms of dance, mastering everything. She wanted to work as a dancer professionally. Her family supported her completely and sent her off to New York to train with the best. It was an amazing experience. Even though it ended way too early, she was grateful for it. Her dreams of being something bigger might not come true, but being the owner of the best dance studio in Nashville, Tennessee was not easy to come by. She was proud to say that she had dancers from all over the world train with her. She had worked hard for her studio, and it had paid off.
Only two years in, she was named sixth best instructor to train with. She was one of the finest in the industry, and she took pride in that. It wasn’t what she wanted at first, but it was the road she was given to travel on. Her dreams were to headline with artists like Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake, but that didn’t work out for her. That dream was shattered. If only she could let go of the life she had in New York, then everything would be fine. Until then though, she would want more than what her life in Nashville offered her.
Reese didn’t know why she didn’t feel complete in Nashville. Was it the lack of spotlight? Did she miss performing? Did she want that back? Or was it the man she left behind who still held a part of her heart back in the Big Apple? She didn’t know, but she needed to stop thinking about it all. She needed to concentrate on this dance. After watching Mallory and Brian, she decided she didn’t need to worry. They were going to win with this one.
God, she was awesome.
“Beautiful, guys. Awesome job.”
Mallory grinned over at her, her cheek flushed with color as she took in a lungful of air. Her dark brown hair was in a pile on her head, her green eyes shining with accomplishment as she smiled back at Reese. She was a beautiful girl, with beauty and talent. Brian too, was breathing just as hard. He was the perfect package. His blonde hair fell in his eyes, and he moved it to the side to reveal his light hazel eyes. He was hands down the best male dancer in her company, and she knew he was going to do big things once he left her, which was at the end of the year. Until then though, she was going to work him like a mule, push him until he was the best he could ever be, and then she would pray he got a job with a huge company, making tons of money. That was her dream for all her dancers.