by dlady
“Yes, we talked for a while and had a burger. We’ve become friends. I hope that’s okay.”
“Certainly, dear.” Agnes patted her hand. “We don’t have any control over who your friends are, and we wouldn’t want any.”
“Just don’t ride the working stock.” Iona cackled, and the two sisters fist-bumped, much to Steph’s surprise.
“I—I wouldn’t dream of it,” Steph said.
“He’s very easy on the eyes. Look, don’t touch,” Agnes added.
“That boy is pure man-candy,” Iona said.
Steph shrugged, feeling the burn from the roots of her hair to the base of her neck. “He’s very nice. I hope you can find him a good match. He deserves one.”
“Of course, he does, and we’re working on it,” Iona said.
“What about the date who stood him up? Are you going to give her another chance?”
Both sisters blinked at Steph as if they hadn’t a clue who she was talking about.
“Oh, her. We’ll find out the reason and make a decision based on that,” Agnes said. “We have other possibilities.”
“Too bad he’s on a road trip for the next week,” Steph said.
“Don’t worry, dear, we’ll figure something out.”
She wasn’t worried. In fact, she almost wished they didn’t have any luck, but such thinking was purely selfish. She couldn’t have Jared. She loved this job and would be horrified if she were fired for breaking the rules. Steph prided herself on following the rules.
“There’s one more thing we’d like to talk to you about.”
Something in Agnes’s tone sent a shiver through Steph. She reached down and patted Otto, who was sprawled at her feet, snoring. “What?”
“We think you might be in danger.”
“You do?” Her words were choked and barely above a whisper.
“We think someone is watching you,” Agnes said.
“If you’re being stalked, we want to know,” Iona added.
“Why don’t you tell us about him, dear?”
Steph looked from one to the other. The concern on their faces struck a lonely place deep inside her. To her horror, she broke down into unladylike sobs.
And then she told them everything.
Well, almost everything.
Chapter 6—Line Change
Jared was bored. He’d arrived home from Toronto early that Tuesday morning after another four-game road trip. He’d fallen asleep for several hours, worked out, attended a voluntary afternoon skate, and hung out to watch tape of tomorrow night’s opponent with some of the married guys, who eventually deserted him to go home to their families. Even Matt and Ice. The bastards.
Now Jared was at loose ends. He hated being alone.
Thanksgiving was in a few days, and he had no plans. He was in a weird space where he didn’t fit in with any of his teammates. He wasn’t part of a couple, didn’t have kids, and wasn’t into partying anymore.
He wanted to spend a quiet evening with a nice girl.
He wanted someone like Steph.
Crap.
He ran his hand through his hair and groaned. As hard as he’d tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. How she smiled a tentative smile as if she were testing out some new emotion. How her silky gold hair shone in the light. How she didn’t realize how gorgeous she was.
His phone rang.
His mother. He loved his mother, but she could be a bit…overwhelming, to say the least. She had to know everything he was up to and why. His mom and sisters had hated Candy. He should’ve listened to them, but he hadn’t. Now they were making him pay by involving themselves in every aspect of his life. Thank the stars above they didn’t live close, or they’d be camped out at his house every night, fending off unworthy females.
He laughed. They’d be sorely disappointed by the lack of females of any level of worthiness pounding on his door.
He’d avoided the women in his family long enough. If he kept ignoring their calls, they’d soon be on his doorstep, and there’d be hell to pay. Besides, Thanksgiving was in a few days, and he was missing his family.
With a resigned sigh, he pressed the answer button. “Hi, Mom.”
His mom didn’t bother with niceties, launching right into her lecture. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I’ve been worried sick about you, and so have your sisters. The only time I see you is on TV during a hockey game, and I’m your mother.”
Dressing down duly noted. “Sorry, Mom,” he muttered, knowing any argument would be met with additional swift and effective guilt-bombs.
“We’re flying in tomorrow morning to spend Thanksgiving with you and catch a few home games.”
“We?” He held his breath.
“Yes, me, Darcie, Georgia, and Roberta.”
Oh, crap. He shuddered in horror. Darcie’s friend Roberta had been pursuing him since high school, and his sister had aided in that pursuit, much to his dismay.
“Roberta’s coming? Why?”
“She lives in Portland now and wants to see Darcie. She’ll be driving up. I’ve always felt you two were meant for each other.”
Jared sure as hell hadn’t felt anything of the sort. “I’m not interested.”
“Nonsense.” His mother, a take-charge emergency room nurse, wasn’t buying what he was selling. He was so fucked.
“I—I’m seeing someone.”
He could hear his mother’s wheels turning. “You are? How serious is this?”
“Not sure yet. Could be serious.”
“And I’m just hearing of it now?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“It’s too soon.”
Leave it to his mother to turn his own excuse around on him. “You know I don’t like being alone. I like having a girlfriend.”
“What’s her name?”
He blurted out the first name that came to mind. “Stephanie.”
“We’ll need to approve her. We’ll be there in the morning from Minneapolis. Make sure we have tickets for tomorrow night’s game. Roberta is picking us up at the airport.”
“Mom, I—”
“I don’t believe you have someone else, and you should give Roberta a chance.”
“But—”
“See you tomorrow. Love you. I’ll text you a grocery list of stuff to buy for Thanksgiving.”
“Mom, I—” He halted. No one was on the other end to hear him.
Shit. Damn. Fuck.
His mother sniffed out deception like his old beagle had sniffed out a rabbit hole.
He’d tell his mother and sisters Steph was sick and couldn’t attend the game. Ugh, knowing them, they’d whip up a batch of chicken noodle soup and deliver it personally to her.
He was so screwed.
Jared glanced at the clock on his microwave.
Where would he put all of them? He only had a one-bedroom apartment. That was all he could afford with Seattle prices being what they were, but it was within walking distance of both the practice rink and the hockey arena. With Seattle’s crappy traffic, he walked when he could.
He called the hotel down the street and reserved two rooms, each with two queens, and hoped the cost didn’t max out his dangerously close to maxed-out credit card. As soon as his paycheck hit the bank, it went out to various creditors and his ex for maintenance until she finished her alleged education. Like she was getting an education. At least not the one the courts were referring to. He’d heard a lot of it was going toward drugs and partying. He’d seen pictures of her in Hawaii a few weeks ago, and before that on a beach in Mexico.
He pushed the bitterness away. Brooding about this shit did him no good.
Now to fix his most pressing problem.
Jared called the sisters. Agnes picked before he heard the phone ring, almost as if she’d been waiting for his call. He quickly explained his situation, half expecting them to tell him he was on his own. Instead, they put the phone on mute and let him fret for a few minutes.
Agnes
came back on the line. “You told your mother your girlfriend’s name was Stephanie? Did we hear you correctly?”
“Uh, yeah, sorry. It was the first name that came to mind.”
“I see.” There was a message packed in those two words, but he decided to ignore it.
“I know this is unusual, but you have to know someone who’d agree to do this for me. I need a nice girl, one who’ll keep my mother at bay. Nothing like my ex.”
“You’re asking for a fake girlfriend who’ll answer to the name of Stephanie by tomorrow during one of the biggest holiday weeks of the year?” Agnes sounded incredulous, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d been a fool to ask them.
“I guess that’s not very realistic.”
“It’s not, young man, but we do owe you one because of the no-show date. Hold on one moment,” Agnes said. Jared could hear a muffled conversation, most likely with Iona. “We have a plan.”
“You do?”
“Why don’t you ask Steph?”
Jared almost choked, unable to fathom why they’d suggest such a thing. He wiped his brow and closed his eyes for a moment. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Why not? You’re just friends, right?”
He could swear he heard a note of sarcasm in her tone. “Yes, we’re just friends.”
“Steph isn’t ready for a relationship with any man. She needs time to heal and find herself.”
“I understand.” He actually did a little more after talking to Coop.
“If you lay a hand on that girl, we’ll serve up your balls on a silver platter.” Iona must have grabbed the phone, because that was definitely her voice. He didn’t ask who they’d be serving them to. He wasn’t going there.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good, that’s settled,” Iona said. “Give her a call. She’ll be reluctant, so you’ll have to handle the situation delicately.”
“I will.” Jared realized he was talking to dead air. The call had been disconnected. A few seconds later, the phone pinged with a text which only had the word Steph and a number. Jared stared at the phone for several minutes, completely discombobulated. He’d gotten himself into this mess, and he couldn’t see any way out. Perhaps Steph would say no.
And perhaps she wouldn’t.
Regardless, he was honor-bound to keep everything on a friend level, for Steph’s sake and his own.
* * * *
Steph stared at the small TV on the little table in the living area of her studio. She just might be a glutton for punishment, but lately she’d become obsessed with hockey, the Seattle Sockeyes, and, more importantly, a certain player for the Sockeyes.
She tuned into Hockey Tonight for a glimpse of Jared. The team had just returned from a four-game road trip and would be playing a series of home games over the Thanksgiving holidays.
Thanksgiving.
Her head filled with memories of her mom’s pumpkin pie, her father carving a huge turkey, and sitting around the large table holding hands while grace was said. Her insides hurt at the thought of spending another Thanksgiving without her family. God, she missed them. She should call them, but it’d been so long, and she feared rejection.
She’d been the apple of her father’s eye, his little girl, until she’d met Gino during the last month of her senior year. Up until then, she’d been the model student, sung in a church choir, and never rebelled against her parents. Gino changed all that. She’d fallen head over heels in love, too naïve to see his manipulations for what they were.
Despite believing she’d save herself for marriage, she’d lost her virginity a few months after meeting Gino, gotten pregnant, and run off with him.
She’d tried to stay in touch with her family, though they were bitterly disappointed in her. Even more so when she admitted she was pregnant but wasn’t marrying the father. She resisted Gino’s attempts to convince her to get an abortion. He refused to marry her because he wanted her to get public assistance to help with the costs.
Then the unthinkable happened. Looking back, she couldn’t fathom how she’d fallen so deeply under his spell that she hadn’t left him that night, but she hadn’t.
She’d looked forward to their baby, convinced things would be better once Gino saw their child. He’d be forced to accept adult responsibilities, and he’d become the perfect father.
She’d been five months pregnant. He’d come home from drinking all day with his buddies. Not knowing when he’d be there, she didn’t have his dinner ready. He flew into a rage, doubled up his fist, and punched her in the stomach. He’d never hit her before, not like that. He’d slapped her around a few times, but never had he used the power a guy would use on another guy. The force of the punch knocked her to the floor. Dazed and in denial, she couldn’t comprehend what’d just happened. She stared up into the twisted face of a stranger.
“You fucking bitch. You slut. I bet you’ve been fucking some other guy behind my back. That’s why my dinner isn’t ready.” He’d screamed the accusations until she swore he’d pop a blood vessel. She cowered on the floor, not knowing what else to do. Her silence enraged him all the more, and he seemed to take it as confirmation she’d been sleeping around.
“That’s not my baby, is it?” His face was ugly and contorted.
Before she could answer, he yanked her to her feet by her hair and shoved her against the wall. One hand closed over her throat, almost cutting off her oxygen but not quite. With the other, he pummeled her with his fists over and over again. Pain rolled through sharper and deeper with each punch until blessed blackness wrapped her in welcome oblivion.
She woke curled into a fetal position, a warm, sticky substance stuck to her and surrounding her lower body. She hurt so much, so very much, and she’d wrapped her arms around her stomach in a feeble attempt to save her unborn child, but it was too late. There was blood on her jeans, on the floor, too much blood. She knew. Oh, dear Lord, she knew.
Her baby was gone. She wailed in despair, the mental pain far deeper than the physical. She didn’t know how long she lay there or what happened after that. She woke in a hospital bed with Gino sitting next to her. He held her hand tightly, overwrought with guilt.
He was talking to a policeman, describing a pair of thugs who’d jumped her as she walked home from the bus stop. They’d beaten her and taken her wallet. Gino had heard her screaming and come to her rescue, and the cowards beat cleats out of there.
He was so convincing that she almost believed him herself.
Gino took her home and cared for her with more tenderness than she’d ever seen from him. He was inconsolable and so very sorry. It’d never happen again. Never. He just loved her so much he’d gone a little crazy. In her confused state of mind, she’d fallen prey to his act and been heartbroken for both of them. She’d been such a fool.
Even now, the thought of losing her baby crushed her more than any blow he’d ever dealt or any despicable thing he’d manipulated her into doing.
As the months turned to years, Gino had systematically removed her support system from her life, either by convincing her they were trying to tear the couple apart or by alienating them. His behavior was that of a typical abuser. She saw that now, but she’d been too in love to see it then. The things she’d done for that man. She shuddered at the thought and wondered if she’d ever feel clean again.
She turned the television to easy-listening music and picked up the romance novel she was reading. Lately, she’d been obsessed with hockey players filling the role of heroes. Tonight’s pick featured a bad-boy hockey player. But then, they all did.
She shouldn’t be reading such books. They made her think of Jared. Never a good idea, but one she couldn’t seem to squelch.
She had it bad just like she had for Gino.
Her phone began to play her ringtone, “Happy.”
She didn’t recognize the number, nor was it in her contacts. She closed her eyes and dropped the cell onto the coffee table. Her breath caught, and bile rose
in her throat.
What if it was Gino?
The song stopped, and she let out a slow breath, relieved until it chimed to announce a text message. Very few people had this cell number, and even fewer ever texted her.
With a shaking hand, she picked up the phone and peered at the message.
Steph, please call me tonight—Jared
Jared? Why would he be contacting her?
She wouldn’t call him back.
Twenty minutes later, her phone pinged again.
Please call me.
Steph frowned at the phone, as if the device were truly responsible for the turmoil inside her at this moment. She was a pushover, easily manipulated, and her judgment wasn’t to be trusted. She’d proven this time and again with Gino.
She couldn’t trust herself, and in her experience, when that happened, things didn’t go well for her.
Gathering her strength, she ignored the phone. A smart girl would’ve turned it off, but she couldn’t force herself to do so. Instead, she rose to her feet and paced the floor, wishing she had someone to call for advice. She could call Vi, but it was late. She’d be spending a rare night at home with Matt and the boys. Steph couldn’t be so selfish as to interrupt their time together.
When it came down to it, what was her problem? Jared and her were just friends. She always returned friends’ calls.
The phone pinged again, begging her to answer, just hear him out, see what he wanted. Curiosity had always been one of her biggest vices, right next to being gullible and trusting the wrong people. The phone played “Happy” once again. She snatched it up and pressed the answer button, while whispering to herself, “Just friends,” over and over.
“Hello.” She sounded breathless and nervous even to her own ears.
“Steph, it’s Jared. Sorry to bother you so late.” He sounded harried, almost stressed. He had her attention. She couldn’t resist someone who needed her help. It was a strength and at times a weakness.
“I’m still up.”
“Oh, good. I need a favor.”
“A favor? From me?”
“Uh, yeah, the sisters suggested I ask you.”
“The sisters?” How very odd. At least whatever he wanted, the sisters had blessed it.