Smoke Signals

by Catherine Gayle

  Except for her tears.

  They were huge, filling her eyes and pouring down her cheeks as though they were in a race to the finish.

  “Am I hurting you?” I demanded, not waiting for an answer. “I am. Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you stop me?” Not only had she not done a damn thing to get me to stop, but she’d been egging me on. Trying to get me to fuck her faster and harder. Hell, even now, she was reaching for me, clenching her thighs to hold me in place. I rolled off her. No chance was I going to keep at it while she was lying there crying, no matter how hard she tried to pretend everything was all right.

  Nothing was all right. Everything about this was fucked up beyond belief.

  She shook her head, her jaw clenched tight as her tears continued to roll. “Just finish. Let me help you come.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Christ, Tori.” I sat up and brushed the hair back from her forehead, trying to figure out what the hell was going on inside her head.

  Why wouldn’t she tell me I was hurting her? Instead of trying to hurry me along, why hadn’t she told me to go fuck myself and get off her? But there was nothing in her eyes that could explain any of it. Only pain and tears.

  “It’s okay,” she insisted. “It’s always— It’s okay. It’s fine.” The tears didn’t stop, though, no matter how much she tried to make her argument.

  The more she cried, the angrier I got. At her, for not telling me to go to hell. At myself, for not paying better attention and realizing there was a problem sooner. At every fucking bastard who’d played a part in leading her into the life she’d been living for the last few years. I was angry at the whole fucking world.

  I bent over and kissed her on the forehead, then got out of the bed and went to the bathroom to wet a cloth. While I was in there, I ripped off the condom and tossed it in the trash. Wouldn’t be needing that any longer. I carried the cloth back into the bedroom and handed it to her.

  “Why don’t you clean yourself up and we’ll get some sleep, huh? Tomorrow’s a new day.” A busy new day, with Babs’s wedding. There wouldn’t be a hell of a lot of time for me to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with Tori. I didn’t even have the first clue as to where I should start.

  She sniffled, but she sat up slowly—gingerly—and used the cloth to clean herself. Her tears were slowing down by the time she faced me again and passed the cloth back. She looked down at my cock, nodding. “I can help—”

  “No, you can’t,” I interrupted, a lot more harshly than I’d intended.

  I tossed the washcloth onto the bathroom floor, then washed my hands before returning to the bedroom to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped tight around her knees and her head resting on them. She looked so damn vulnerable, and I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t know how to help her. I felt more helpless than I had when I’d been a kid who couldn’t do anything to protect my mom.

  I sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her to my side. She was stiff as a board.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I was short with you just now. You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

  She sniffled again. And she pulled away from me. “Why won’t you let me help you finish? I make you come.”

  I did my best not to lose my temper, but it wasn’t easy. Not when every bone in my body was aching to wrap her up in my arms and hold her until she believed she had some value. “I told you. You don’t come, I don’t come. That’s how this is going to work between us. Got it? You’re not just a set of holes for me to fuck. Not me or any man.”

  She blinked at me a few times. “You’re wrong, Razor. You’re good man, but you’re wrong.” Then she got up and headed for the doorway.

  “Where are you going?” There was only a mild sense of panic edging my tone. Not anywhere near as much as I felt.

  She stopped, one hand on the door frame, and looked back over her shoulder. “Other bedroom. I can sleep there?”

  “You can sleep anywhere you want to.” But I wanted her to stay with me. So I could watch over her. So I could make sure she didn’t get up and take off in the middle of the night. So I could study her and try to solve her mysteries. So I could make sure no one else ever hurt her again in any of the ways she’d so clearly been hurt.

  But I couldn’t protect her if she wouldn’t let me.

  Tori gave me a solemn nod. “You’re good man, Razor.” Then she sniffled once more, walked out, and closed the door behind her.

  I lay in bed thinking for hours. I replayed everything that had happened between us since we’d walked off the casino floor. I pondered every possibility I could come up with for what might have been causing her physical pain. I debated how I could help her overcome all that she’d been through.

  The longer I thought, the more questions I had…and the fewer answers. It was enough to overwhelm me, and I wasn’t even the one who’d lived through all that she had.

  In the end, there was only one thing I could think to do—talk to my mother. That would have to wait, though. It was the middle of the night, and not a time I could call her.

  And tomorrow, I had to make sure Babs got hitched.

  “HOLY SHITBALLS,” KOZ said—loudly—when Tori and I walked into Red Rocks for the wedding. Every head in the outdoor space spun toward him. He was staring right at Tori, and the only way I could describe his expression was less than polite. Actually, way less than polite. He was staring at her like he’d seen her with her clothes off.

  Maybe he had.

  Then all those eyes landed on me and Tori. Fuck. I’d hoped to be able to slide her in under the radar until after the ceremony before having to explain things, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. I glanced at her to see if she was uncomfortable with the attention, but that didn’t get me anywhere. She’d been uncomfortable since I’d first met her. She was more wary than anything, her eyes darting from face to face.

  I turned back to the guys up front. 501 elbowed Koz in the side, which saved him from my fist finding its way through his nose. For now. I wasn’t making any promises about what I might do to him later, especially if he kept this shit up.

  I wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with Tori—everything I’d said last night about not giving a shit what anyone thought, I’d meant—but I didn’t want her to feel out of place in my life. Assholes like Koz could cause us problems, and I intended to do everything I could to minimize it.

  I found Tori a seat on the groom’s side of the aisle, not so close to the front to make her conspicuous but close enough I’d be able to see her from the altar. I hated that I had to leave her on her own during the ceremony, but I was Babs’s best man. I couldn’t sit with her, however much I might want to. Not even during the reception. I would have to be at the bride and groom’s table until all my best-man duties were finished. I might be able to toss some of them 501’s way, but not the speech and a few other things.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” she said again, tucking her purse under her arm and pinching it close to her side. Her eyes nervously flitted from one face to another as the chairs around us started to fill in. She’d hardly let the bag out of her sight since I’d first met her. She’d even taken it into the other bedroom in my suite and slept with her arms wrapped around it all night. That was how I found her when I got up this morning, curled in a ball with the purse tight in her grasp.

  It was the only thing in her life she had left to hold on to, as far as I could tell. In the same situation, I’d probably hold on even tighter than she was.

  But maybe I could help her find some other things worth keeping so close. Even if it wasn’t me, she needed something else. Or someone.

  Finding her like that had shattered a part of me, the same way finding Mom bruised and bloodied in her bed after a particularly rough John had done a number on her had broken off pieces of me. I didn’t realize it back then, but breaking off those pie
ces had been necessary. They couldn’t stay part of me, because I’d needed them to help heal Mom. Tori must need a part of me, too.

  “You should be here,” I reiterated.

  “He knows who I am.” Tori nodded toward Koz and tugged on the hem of her skirt, as if she could make it long enough to reach her knees. That wasn’t going to happen. It was a different dress than she’d worn last night—hot pink instead of bright blue—but it was still better suited for her previously intended profession than for a wedding. “I can tell. He looks at me like…” She shook her head and stared me dead in the eye. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  That intensity in her gaze was enough to chip at me, a chisel taking one shard at a time. I reached for her hand to reassure her, but she wouldn’t let go of her bag, so I ended up patting her on the shoulder. “I’m not worried about Koz recognizing you. I’m not going to hide you and pretend you’re not in my life. I’m not ashamed of you.” I only wished she didn’t feel so much shame. It was eating her alive.

  Her eyes were filled with the same pain I’d seen in them last night. In the sparkling late-morning sunlight surrounding us, the stormy color of her eyes seemed so out of place. At least there weren’t any tears, though. She nodded, curt and resolute. Resigned.

  I kissed her on the forehead and headed up front to join Koz and 501, wishing I could do more to help her feel comfortable here.

  But now I had another job to do. “Did you two get Babs to bed for his beauty sleep last night?” I asked.

  “Got him to his room,” 501 said. “I don’t think he could sleep long enough to be pretty. Only in Katie’s drug-induced dreams.”

  “Hell, besides Katie, I’m going to be the prettiest one up here,” I shot back with a grin, trying to shake off the anxiety and fear that had been plaguing Tori—and me—since last night. That was between the two of us. Here, in front of Babs and his guests, I had to be the same version of myself everyone expected—a cocky asshole without a care in the world. I waggled my brows. “Is it bad form to outshine the groom?”

  “If it is, we’re all in trouble.”

  501 was Babs’s brother…and he was the guy who’d replaced me on the Portland Storm back in the day. The Storm’s general manager had made a trade on draft day, sending me to the Sabres before using the pick on 501. I tried not to let it get to my head that, even though I’d been playing on shitty teams ever since, I was a better defenseman than the kid had turned out to be, at least so far. Served them right for giving up on me after only two seasons.

  Still, I couldn’t hate the guy. It wasn’t his fault that I’d been traded, and besides that, he was Babs’s brother.

  I wasn’t so sure about his taste in friends, though, since he was constantly hanging out with Koz, who was such an ass he put me to shame.

  The asshole in question let out a low whistle when I stepped up beside him on the dais before the sea of white chairs. He was still staring at Tori.

  I clenched my fists but kept them tight to my side. Bad idea to break a guy’s nose at Babs’s wedding. Really fucking bad idea, however tempting it might be.

  “Do you have any idea who she is?” he asked. “Holy hell, Razor. She’s not the kind of girl you let stay until morning, let alone bring her along for whatever you’re doing next. She’s definitely not the type of girl you bring to someone’s wedding. She’s the girl you fuck and send on her way so you can get tested.”

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek until I tasted the tang of my blood. Babs was about to get married here. Not the time or place. I started going through my mental calendar of the upcoming season, trying to figure out the first time my team, the Tulsa Thunderbirds, would play the Storm. Pretty sure it was in November. I could bloody the son of a bitch then, and I wouldn’t have to worry about ruining Babs’s wedding. Much better plan.

  When I thought I had my temper under wraps, I met his laughing eyes with a glare that would leave nothing in doubt. “Bite your fucking tongue before I cut it off for you, eh? She’s my wife.”

  “Wife?” 501 repeated. He raised a brow, taking another skeptical look at Tori.

  Koz wasn’t so even-keeled about it. He snort-laughed, and he didn’t even bother trying to cover it up. “You are so fucked.”

  That was when Babs came around the corner and joined us, tugging on the lapels of his tux so he could button it. Katie’s father, David “Webs” Weber, was at his side.

  “Who’s fucked?” Babs asked. Without waiting for an answer, he looked at me. “You’ve got the rings?”

  “I’ve got the rings.” I patted my hand over the pocket I’d stowed them in. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Good,” Webs said. “Give them to me.”

  I handed them over. He took them, grumbling something about giving them to “the little foul-mouthed child” as he headed away.

  “So who’s fucked?” Babs asked, not paying his soon-to-be father-in-law any mind.

  “Razor,” Koz said, still laughing. “He married a fucking porn star.”

  “Razor didn’t marry anyone,” Babs said. But then he raised a brow, turning to me again. “You didn’t marry anyone, did you? Please tell me you’re not that much of an idiot. I knew I shouldn’t have let you—”

  “I did.”

  “—leave with her.” His jaw dropped. “Shit. The girl you left with last night? I should have listened to my gut. I knew you were going to do something stupid. Please tell me you didn’t do something stupid.”

  “You’re not my father, Babs.” Not that my father had ever done a fucking thing for me other than provide me with American citizenship, which I’d made use of whenever the opportunity presented itself, like with marrying Tori, and Babs had done a hell of a lot. But still. That was beside the point. “You don’t have to look out for me.”

  Between the two of us, he’d always been the one on the straight-and-narrow. He’d never seen a naked woman until I took him to a strip club to celebrate when we found out we’d made the team in our rookie season with the Storm. He’d fallen for Katie Weber right around the same time, but she’d only been sixteen at the time. Not to mention, she was the daughter of one of our teammates. Totally off-limits, but he’d held out for her. Saved himself or some shit like that. I was one of the few people who knew he’d been a virgin, but at least now Katie was finally making an honest man of him. The point was, though, that he’d always been kind of sheltered. And while I’d done a bit of introducing him to the real world, I’d been careful about which parts of it I’d shown him.

  But it had been me looking out for him, not the other way around—even if he hadn’t seen it that way. I knew the truth. I’d seen enough of the real world for the both of us.

  “Clearly someone needs to look out for you,” Koz said. “You walk out of the fucking casino last night, single as ever, and you come back a little over twelve hours later married to a fucking porn star.”

  I was clenching my fists so hard my fingernails nearly cut through the skin of my palms. “I swear to God, if you fucking—”

  Before I could finish, 501 put a hand on Koz’s chest and pushed him away, not stopping until they were halfway down the aisle—well past where I’d seated Tori. The rest of the seats were quickly filling in around her, with Babs’s side full of current and former teammates and their families and Katie’s side glittering because of all the Hollywood A-listers.

  “It’s almost time,” I said, grinding my jaw in an effort to lower my blood pressure. “You ready?”

  “You’re just going to brush it off like that, huh? Like it’s nothing?”

  It wasn’t nothing. Not even close. I faced him again. “Not brushing it off, but I’ve got a job to do right now, and that’s to get you hitched.”

  “You really don’t think you made a huge mistake?” He scowled. “Did you at least think about a prenup?”

  The officiant cleared his throat, saving me from having to answer for now. A quick look around revealed that the string quartet was in place and ready to
go, almost every seat was taken, and 501 was on his way to rejoin us. Thankfully, he was coming without Koz. I didn’t know where that asshole was sitting, and I didn’t care. He wasn’t next to Tori, and he wasn’t within arm’s reach of me. For now, that would have to do.

  “Are we all set?” the officiant asked.

  I raised a brow at Babs. Not that I thought he’d have cold feet. There was no chance. Babs and Katie were made for each other, something I’d known for years. It might have taken them a while to get here, but he wasn’t looking back. Only forward.

  He took a deep breath, giving me a wonky look that told me he wasn’t ready to let my newfound situation drop. But then he nodded and turned toward the altar. “All set.”

  With a signal to the string quartet, everything was set in motion. Babs took up his position. I stood next to him, and 501 filed in next to me.

  Katie’s mother and brother came down the aisle first, with Luke depositing his mom in the front row before taking his seat beside her. Then came Katie’s sister, Dani, followed by one of her former co-stars. Sidney and Peyton Campbell—twin redheaded toddlers and daughters of a teammate—served as dual flower girls. Walking between them with the rings on a pillow was another teammate’s son, Connor Johnson, who was presumably the foul-mouthed child Webs had mentioned earlier. None of the three wanted to come at the same pace. Halfway down the aisle one of the twins stopped right next to Tori and plopped down on the floor, tossing the petals over her head and watching them rain down on her while she giggled.

  “Oh, shit,” Connor said—loudly—turning and trying to get the little girl up to come with him. A few people gasped, but most of them laughed. In the process of trying to herd the twins, Connor dropped his pillow on the floor and the rings got free.

  One of the rings apparently stopped at Tori’s feet. She bent at the waist and picked it up as the two fathers hurried out to deal with their wayward children. She passed the ring to Cam Johnson—Connor’s father, and better known to the guys as Jonny—who gave her a look that most people would have missed. I wasn’t most people, though. He quickly masked his shock and hurried his squirming son up to the altar with the rings, and I doubted Tori would have realized there was anything amiss with him. While that was going on, Brenden “Soupy” Campbell picked up one daughter with each arm and carried them like footballs, but the one who’d been in the aisle next to Tori was pitching an absolute fit over it.