“And Lucia’s only eighteen.”
“I don’t give a damn about Lucia. And I’m almost twenty, by the way.”
Brad shook his head. “Still not legal. We’re lucky we weren’t fired over this.”
“Too bad you weren’t.” My eyes narrowed, and he returned my glare. I tried to unclench my fists. “You have to take me to a bar, then.”
“Dude, did you hear what I said? I’m not taking you to get booze. And besides, just how would you order a drink, Mr. Underage?”
Shit. The fake ID Josh had gotten for me our freshman year would hardly work now that the media had plastered my face all over television. Dumbass presidential race.
“Have you talked to your mom?” he asked.
I felt heat rise to my face. “Why would I do that?”
“She’s worried about you. Steve called me—he said you weren’t answering your cell phone.”
Mom’s pussy campaign manager could go screw himself. She’d been the one to sic my dad on me, therefore she was the last person I wanted to talk to. “C’mon, go buy me some beer, Brad. It’s no big deal.”
“No can do, Danester. Why don’t you join China in the weight room downstairs? The punching bag’s a great stress release.”
“She’s a bitch. I don’t want to be anywhere near her.”
China’s voice came from behind me. “I thought I told you to go to your room.”
Whoops—her pissed-off tone made it clear she’d overheard me. I wheeled around. “And I told you that you weren’t my fucking mother.”
“When you act like a child, I’ll treat you like one.” Sweat beaded on her forehead. “Really, Dane. Telling your head coach to fuck off? Then shoving your assistant coach? You’re out of control.”
I scoffed. She thought this was out of control? Ya ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
“What’d your father say to you to make you this unhinged?”
“None of your goddamn business.” My dad’s words competed with the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears: “You’ll keep it secret, of course. An affair getting out would destroy your mother’s campaign.” I clenched my teeth. “Just stay out of my life, both of you. I don’t need babysitters!”
China’s face reddened as she blew out air. “That’s our job, to protect you. But we don’t get paid near enough to tolerate crap like this. Just go back to your room, Dane.”
“You can’t order me around!”
“The hell I can’t.” When she darted toward me, I let out a surprised laugh. Then she was on me, and before I knew it, she’d locked my elbows behind me with one arm. Her other arm tightened across my chest, pressing down on my lungs. I could smell the disgusting man-sweat pouring off her bulging muscles.
“Get your sweaty paws off me!” I strained to wiggle out of her lockdown hold to no avail. My right shoulder screamed with pain. Crap—I couldn’t afford an injury. But I was so ticked off I kept thrashing in her arms.
“Stop struggling!” At least she was breathing hard too. She pushed into me, and I took a stutter step toward my bedroom. “Go to your room!”
There was no way in hell I’d let a woman take control of me. I dug in my heels and strained my quad muscles, managing to stand my ground despite her forceful shoves. Our grunts filled the kitchen.
“Brad!” she panted.
He stood by the table watching the showdown, arms folded across his massive chest, a big grin on his face. Once I got free of China, I was going to kill him.
I wasn’t wearing shoes, but I stomped my socked foot down on China’s sneaker hard enough to elicit a yelp. “Son of a bitch!” she hollered, then tightened her grip.
“My shoulder,” I groaned.
“China.” Brad wasn’t smiling anymore. “Let him go. We don’t want to hurt him.”
“I’m not…hurting him.” The force of her push intensified. “I’m teaching…this…little…shit a lesson.”
“China.” His voice sharpened.
From her throat came a sound like a grizzly bear in heat. “Damn!”
In an instant, I was free. My shoulder throbbed, and I spun around to face the aggressor. “Don’t you fucking touch me again!”
“Go to your room.” Her chest heaved.
Brad stepped between us. “China, hit the weights.” He looked at me. “Go somewhere and chill.”
“Are you going to let her get away with that?” I pointed at the she-beast. “She attacked me!”
“Dane, go.” When I didn’t move, he added, “And I’m not buying you alcohol.”
“You’re both assholes!” I stomped out of the kitchen and into my bedroom, throwing the door closed behind me. The damn ergonomic hinges didn’t provide nearly the satisfying slam I wanted, though. Mother-effing greenhouse!
I searched my room for something to crush. My hands itched with the desire to destroy.
“What a relief to get that off my chest.” He’d thrown his head back and looked at the sky with a peaceful smile.
“Fuck!” My body buzzed with rage as I paced. God, did I need a drink. Then my feet froze. I hopped over to the window to peek out the thick wooden blinds, and I liked what I saw. “Bingo.”
I inched up to my door and listened to my agents’ hushed voices, undoubtedly discussing what a nightmare I was to protect. Shitheads. When the voices died off, I shoved gym shoes on my feet and waited a few minutes. Then I strolled out to the kitchen.
Brad looked up from his papers.
I swallowed, then let out a breath. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
When he cocked his head, suspicion still evident, I knew I had to be more convincing.
“Dude, you realize how humiliating it was for a woman to dominate me like that? I lost my shit. Sorry.”
“China’s not any woman. She’s trained to take people down.”
“I see that.” I rubbed my shoulder. “And, I’m taking your advice. I’ll work out with her, try to get strong like her.”
He smiled. “Good idea.”
“Would you…?” I chewed my lip. “Would you go down there, ask if she’d let me join her?”
Brad hesitated.
“She doesn’t like me very much, but you have a good way with her. Please, Brad? Grease the wheels a little for me?”
He got up. “Sure. Give me a couple minutes. I’ll get her to come around.”
“Thanks, man.”
He headed to the basement, and I patted the back pocket of my khaki shorts to double-check that my wallet was there. Butterflies dive-bombed my stomach as my heartbeat kicked up a notch—just like the excitement I felt before a big match. When I was sure he was safely downstairs, I crept to the foyer, hoping they couldn’t hear my footsteps in the basement. I scanned the camera feed of the area beyond the gates and my eyes landed on a curvy blonde. Okay, that one.
I lunged for the front door and heard the alarm sound behind me as I flew through it. I sprinted for the gate, and the flock of media fluttered and scrambled for their cameras.
“Dane!” Brad hollered from the bowels of the house, and I knew I only had seconds to make my getaway. I scaled the seven-foot gate with ease and heard snapping cameras as I climbed over the metal spikes. With grace, I hopped to the concrete.
“You!” I panted as I pointed at the blond reporter. Flashbulbs blinded me. “You want an exclusive?”
Her eyes lit up. “You bet!”
“Then get me outta here, and you got it.”
Her head bobbed, and she scuttled to a TV news van with her cameraman in tow. The other reporters shouted questions at me.
“Not him.” I jerked my thumb at the idiot with the bulky video camera. “Just you.”
She halted.
“Dane Monroe!” China burst through the front door with Brad on her heels. “Stay right there!”
I swiveled back to face Blondie. “Now or never—how bad do you want this story? But your cameraman’s not coming with.”
She exchanged a look with him then nodded. “
Okay, get in.”
As I hustled around the van to the passenger side, I had to weave in and out of reporters hurling questions my way. I heard the house gates slide open over their shouts and the rush of blood in my head. Please get me outta here. Hoping for the best, I ducked into the van, and we screeched out onto the neighborhood street.
I peered over my shoulder and felt a colossal grin spread on my face. The media had parked their vans and cars up against the gate, and they now stood in the way of my pursuers’ SUV. In a gorgeous twist of events, the reporters chasing after me with questions meant they wouldn’t be around to move their cars anytime soon. As we sped away, the last sounds I heard were China’s frustrated honks.
“Where to?” Blondie asked.
I eyed her long, styled hair and luscious rack as my heartbeat slowed. “Kroger. I need you to buy me some groceries.”
She gave me a sideways glance.
“I’ll pay, of course.”
“That’s not what worries me. Why’d you hightail it out of there just to buy groceries? The agents could get those for you.”
I angled my body toward her and wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. Maybe that getaway sprint had made up for lost conditioning from leaving practice early. “What’s your name?”
“Beverly Jackson.” She extended her right arm from the driver’s seat, took her eyes off the road, and shook my hand.
“I guess you know my name already.”
“Sure do, Mr. Monroe.”
“Call me Dane.”
We stopped at a light, and I tried to figure out what felt familiar about her.
“So, Dane, why the dramatic escape? I hope Bob captured that on film—you gave us some great footage.”
I cringed—Fox News would have a field day with my hijinks. At least they hadn’t been allowed inside the gym to witness my ejection. “I’ve had a really shitty day, Beverly. Have you ever had a day like that?”
The light had turned green, and she inched the van forward as she waited to turn left. “Yes.” As her manicured hands tightened on the steering wheel, it struck me why she looked familiar. She was shorter and bustier than Nina, but when her mouth tensed into a frown, she totally reminded me of my ex. And she didn’t seem attractive anymore once I realized the resemblance. She didn’t have Lucia’s shiny black hair, soft smile, or that little dimple on her right cheek. She didn’t possess her power or athleticism.
Had Lucia ruined me for blondes like Nina? I frowned. It was more like Nina had ruined my chances with spicy girls like Lucia. And I could no longer deny (at least to myself) that I kind of wanted one, crazy as that might be. I’d never have a chance with Lucia if she knew about the abortion. I’d never touch her silky brown skin or discover what sexy tigress hid beneath that blushing naiveté. I just knew a caliente spark sizzled inside Lucia, but now it would never come to light, at least with me. Awesome. Thinking about what I’d miss just made my day shittier.
“So you said you’ve had a bad day?” Beverly prompted.
“Yeah.” The air conditioning had cooled me off. “What do you do after a bad day?”
“Bob and I usually hit The Library for drinks.”
I smirked. The Library was one of the most popular campus bars—undergrads loved to tell their clueless parents they’d stayed at ‘the library’ late into the evening. “I can relate. I just need you to get me some beers, okay?”
Her mouth tightened as she pulled into Kroger.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Not my mom again. But this was a text from China.
If you return now, we won’t be mad.
I blew air out my nose. As if I cared about the emotional status of my agents. I’d never wanted them in the first place! Then I realized they could track me through my phone, so I quickly powered it down.
Beverly parked the van far from the entrance to the grocery store. “I’m not sure about this. Buying alcohol for a minor could get me arrested.”
“Who’s gonna know?” I flashed my most charming smile. “I certainly won’t tell anyone.”
She studied me. “Damn, you’re cute.” I followed her gaze as it dropped to her hands, and I noticed the absence of a wedding ring. “But I shouldn’t.”
“I thought you wanted an exclusive interview.”
Her head shot up. “I do. Very much.”
“Blue Moon loosens my lips.” I grinned and held out a twenty.
She shook her head, but the beginnings of a smile emerged. “Anything for the story, right?” She snatched the money and stepped out of the van, saying, “Don’t go anywhere,” before shutting the door.
Where exactly would I go? She’d taken the keys. Boredom set in quickly, and I took out my phone only to remember I’d turned it off. I swiveled in my seat and marveled at the technical equipment lining the van walls. So this was where the media made our lives miserable.
I had to stoop as I stepped to the rear of the van to look more closely. Aaagh! I flinched at the network logo emblazoned on one of the TV monitors: Channel 8 Fox News. Damn it! Why did I have to choose a Fox reporter?
Duh. She was the hottest one out there.
They’d taped a few pieces of paper above the video editing equipment, and my mouth dropped open as I leaned in and read “Highbanks Fall Semester: Lucia Ramirez.” Her practice schedule hung next to her class schedule, and my schedules were there too. How had they tapped into our private calendars? They were hunting us! I ripped down the information and jammed the folded sheets into my pockets. “You don’t need this, d-bag stalkers.”
I heard the door open and scrambled back to the front passenger seat.
“What were you doing back there?” Beverly asked as she set a plastic bag between the seats.
I ripped into it with greedy fingers and extracted a cold beer. After I twisted the cap off and downed a long guzzle, I turned to her. “Just figuring out how you invade my privacy.”
“But you’re a public figure.” She sounded defensive, and her voice rose as she watched me down the beer. “Jeez! Take a breath.”
I placed the empty bottle back in the carton and reached for another. “I wouldn’t have chosen you if I’d known you were with Fox.”
“We’re the local affiliate.”
Whatever. I closed my eyes as the golden liquid slid down my throat. “God, I love beer.” I wondered how many beers it would take to obliterate the image of my dad gazing at the blue sky. “What a relief to get that off my chest.”
She watched me drink the second bottle. “Well, I held up my end of the bargain. What do you have for me?”
Crap. I’d forgotten my promise to give her the scoop. Possible responses flooded my mind: Did you know my parents’ marriage is a sham? How about the fact that my narcissistic father is diddling his mistress?
I peered at her over the mouth of my beer bottle, considering how awesome it would be to unleash that shocking story to the world. Mom’s campaign manager would kill me! And, I thought with a scowl, Mom would be devastated. I didn’t want to hurt her. It wasn’t her fault she’d married a selfish asshole.
Beverly kept waiting. What else could I tell her? Oh, by the way, I have the hots for Governor Ramirez’s daughter. Yeah, that would go over real well. Her reporter’s stare was so intent that I had to come up with something to stall her. “When I tell you something, aren’t you going to take notes?”
She looked startled, then shifted her cell phone in her lap. “I have a good memory.” She tapped her temple.
The screech of tires exploded to our right. Oh, no. I turned to find China’s fierce glare piercing into me from the SUV. How had they found me? She stepped out of the vehicle as I lunged for the door lock.
China came right up to the van. “Open the door, Dane.”
I tried to peer around her. Where was Brad?
“Open the door right now.”
I followed a sound to my left and, to my horror, saw Brad open the driver’s side door.
“Why didn’t you
lock your door?” I cried as I glared at Beverly.
“Step out of the car, ma’am,” Brad ordered. He glanced at my beer bottle. “Party’s over.”
“Hey!” Beverly turned to me. “You haven’t given me my exclusive interview.”
I heard my car door lock click open a second before I lunged for it, but China had beaten me. Damn! Brad must have unlocked it from the driver side. China yanked the door open as I seized the bag of beer bottles. We stared at each other for a few long seconds.
China’s eyebrows rose. “Will I need to handcuff you, Mr. Monroe?”
“You wouldn’t do that.” She won’t handcuff me, right?
“I will do that, unless you get your ass into the SUV.” She still wore the sweaty Spandex workout top and tight shorts she’d had on earlier, showcasing her muscles, but she’d also strapped on a belt with a gun holster and dangling handcuffs.
I swallowed as I tried to come up with a way to evade them both. Now that Brad had taken Beverly’s seat, my odds for escape were dismal.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, hot shot,” Brad said. His bulk crowded the space between us.
To help me think, I took the last swig of my third bottle. I still had no brilliant ideas. “How’d you guys find me?”
Brad tapped the dashboard. “We tracked the van’s coordinates via satellite.”
“If you try to pull that stunt again, blocking us in…” China put her hand on her weapon.
“I’m sure you have backup,” I said.
“Well,” Brad said, “we tried to reach the other team, but they couldn’t leave Lucia.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
Beverly gave a sudden shout, and we turned to see her jumping up and down. “I need my van back to pick up Bob!” She pointed at her cell phone. “Lucia Ramirez is in the hospital!”
“What?” I looked at Brad.
He nodded grimly. “She passed out at practice.”
“Is she okay?” My heart raced.
He cocked his head and studied me. “Yeah, she’ll be all right.”
“She was just discharged,” China said. “They’ll bring her back to the greenhouse.”
As I scooted out of the van, China backed up to let me out. “Then we’re headed to the greenhouse,” I said decisively.
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