by Claire Adams
"I'd like to think so. I almost beat up your ex-boyfriend. That sounds like a lot of my past dates." He chuckled and slipped his hands into his pockets after I took the keys. "I love your name, by the way. It's beautiful."
"Val?" I scrunched up my nose. I hated my name.
"Yeah, but the fact that it's actually Valentine is even better." He tilted his head as he studied me. "Was that the jerk you went to the party to see the other night?"
"Yeah, and I found him upstairs fucking one of my sorority sisters." I hadn't planned on putting my shitty life on display, but lying to him wasn't going to fly either.
"Ouch. Well, I can't imagine anyone being stupid enough to cheat on a pretty girl like you." He licked at his lips. "So, when do I get to see you again?"
He was confident, if nothing else.
"Soon, maybe?" I hated the fact that warmth had coated my cheeks and neck. I wasn't a high school girl being asked to prom, but for some reason, everything felt uncomfortably new with Tate. "I'll give you my number and you make that decision."
"Not the controlling type?" He lifted his eyebrow as if surprised.
"Only when the urge overwhelms me." I pulled out his card and texted the number on the back with my number. Relief flooded me when his phone buzzed. I didn't know why, but some part of me almost expected him to have given me someone else's number. It was dumb seeing that I was standing in front of his shop, but something had to give. The situation between us felt too good. Too right.
"That's hot." He winked and pulled his phone out, checking it and taking a step back. "Thanks for making my day. See you around?"
"I hope so." I walked to my side of the car and got in without looking back at him. My heart was racing and every cell of my being screamed for me to invite him out later that night, but I didn't. I couldn't. I wasn't lamenting over Paul or worried about anything other than falling for the handsome mechanic who was quick to steal my thoughts. He was the polar opposite of what my parents would expect or approve of, and though it shouldn't have mattered, it did. I couldn't figure out how to get from underneath their oppression, but I knew that bringing home a guy like Tate would only make matters worse.
My parents didn't care how good someone was. They cared how he looked. What he did for a living or was setting himself up to do. They cared about his status, his stature, his wealth.
All the things that I could care less about.
*
I was working to get Paul off of my contacts and turn off my tracking when he called later that afternoon. I contemplated not answering the call, but I figured it would be a good chance to tell him to back off for the last time. I wasn't the girl for him, and I never had been.
"Val, before you say anything, just let me talk. Please." His voice was tight with something between anger and anxiety.
"Fine. Talk." I dropped back on my bed and closed my eyes, praying that the conversation would be over quickly. I needed to get to the courts within an hour to play in a scrimmage that some of the intramural teams were hosting. Coach wouldn't be too thrilled to hear that I'd played when we were in a bye week ourselves, but I didn't care. I wanted to get rid of some unwanted energy and basketball was the most productive way to do it. Sleeping with Tate, of course, was riding high on the list, too.
"I understand that you're pissed, and you should be. I got drunk at the party, and if I hadn't been drinking, I swear on my grandmother's grave that I wouldn't have touched Carolyn. Not ever." He let out a short sigh. "I know you and I haven't been doing spectacular lately, but I see you in my future...like forever."
A laugh and resounding snort left me. "Is this a joke? Am I being punked?"
"What? No, I'm being serious. You're the kind of woman I want by my side. You're classy and smart, you're going places in life, and you have a great family."
A great family? Oh...a wealthy family.
"Right, well, I spoke to my mom and dad about what happened, and neither of them are comfortable with me dating you anymore. My father, especially." I lied, not caring about my guilty conscience. The asshole on the phone was only focused on preserving our relationship to stay connected to the great Scotts. My stomach turned at the thought, and for the millionth time in my life, I honestly wished I were from a poor family on the shitty side of town. It would have been so much easier to just be me in a different family. I didn't fit into the wealth I was born into, nor would I ever care to.
"What? Why would you do that? You're not even close to your family," he growled. "Look, just send me your father's number and I'll call him. I can patch this up for you and then we'll just get on with our relationship."
For me?
"If you want to impress my father, you're going to have to do far better than simply dating me, Paul. You're going to have to graduate at the top of your class, debt free. Then after that, you'll need to start a company from scratch and push it to the top within a few years. They'll be impressed with two and a half kids that have rosy cheeks, blond hair, and are extremely well behaved. Oh, and don't laugh at anything until someone else does because chances are your humor isn't at all like theirs. And don't complain – ever. Don't sneeze, or smack, or yawn, and for fuck’s sake, don't you ever cry." Tears burned my eyes as he sat quietly on the other end of the phone. "Get it? You don't, do you? No, no one does. Do me a favor and lose my number. I'm not interested in marrying a man who wants anything to do with my family. Not ever."
I threw the phone across the room as a cry left me. He was no different than they were. That he thought he could sleep with the one girl who hated me most and then call and apologize so that we could move on was sickening. These people had no clue who I was, at all.
After drying my face, I got up and tore through my clothes, looking for a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt. I laced up my shoes, grabbed my gym bag, and walked out into the hallway. Several of the girls in the house called after me or waved as I walked by. I responded with a curt nod for each of them. Opening my mouth was dangerous and wouldn't do any good. I wasn't willing to shoot arrows and leave useless wounds.
"Get your coat." Katelyn stopped by the front door and stood in front of me. "Please."
"Fine." I turned and grabbed my long winter coat from the closet before pulling it on and walking out into the chilly night’s air.
"You okay?" she called after me.
"I will be soon. Just going to shoot hoops." I tried to steady my voice, but it didn't help much. Hopefully, the poor people playing against me would blame my shaking on being cold and not furious. I was sick of sitting back and letting life take me for ride after ride – especially, seeing that I'd not signed up for any of the fucked up adventures I'd been on as of late.
I picked up my walk to a jog as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it, not wanting to talk with anyone just yet. I'd call them back after the game, maybe.
The gym was brightly lit up, and the sight of it offered me an odd sense of peace. I ran toward it and tugged off my coat as I approached. The dark-skinned girl at the door gave me a bright smile as I stopped in front of her.
"Scott, we were hoping you would show up. Some of the guys from the next county over came in tonight to play. We need a strong player on the blue team. It's mostly guys, but we figured you'd be down." She lifted her eyebrow. "Could get ugly."
"Excellent. Sounds like my kinda game. Just don't tell Coach on me, or I'll have hell to pay for real." I tugged my bag up higher on my shoulder and opened the door. "Give me a heads up if Coach shows up. Okay?"
"Yep, I got your back." She patted my shoulder just before I disappeared down the long dark hallway that led to the main gym. The sound of shouting and cheers left my blood racing. I loved the feeling of being important and needed, just like everyone else did, and basketball allowed for that reward.
I pushed open the door and moved to drop my bag next to the large group of guys in blue shirts. They glanced over at me with a bit of confusion on their faces, but Dill, their captain, walked toward me and
tossed me a shirt.
"Scott, I'm glad you're here. We need one female on the team tonight. That you?" His dark eyes moved around my face as a smile lifted his lips.
"Nope, It's you, but I'm happy to play captain." I winked at him, finding myself like I always did with the shiny wooden floor beneath me.
"How about point guard, instead? Pretty close." He reached out and squeezed my shoulder.
"Alright, but don't say I didn't try." I dropped my bags and tugged off my t-shirt with far too many eyes focused on me. My sports bra covered me well, but boys would be boys. I pulled the blue shirt over my head and ignored them as I started to stretch.
"We're going up against Waller in fifteen minutes. You're going to be a starter." Dill moved up beside me before addressing everyone. "Guys, this is Val. We call her Scott. She's the captain of the girls’ basketball team here, but she wasn't here with us tonight, okay? Her coach is a bitch and a half about the girls playing out of season or on other leagues. Mum’s the word. Yeah?"
They all yelled their agreement, some of them a little more enthusiastic than others.
A familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts. It was Katelyn's boyfriend, Martin.
"Hey, I thought you guys were having some game night bullshit thing at the Gamma house?" He stopped in front of me as a look of concern moved across his face.
An idea burst inside of me, and I went with it before getting cold feet.
"They're all playing games tonight, but you know I don't like that girly stuff." I rolled my shoulders. "I need a favor."
His eyebrow lifted. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"
"I got stranded on the side of the road last night-"
"Shit, Val. In that storm?" His expression tightened.
"Yeah, but I'm good." I stretched my arms up to the ceiling and twisted. "This guy stopped and helped me, then he changed my tire for free today. He was a godsend."
"Okay. Where do I come into all of this?"
"He's a swimmer, and a damn good one. He's a student here, but he's not exactly the traditional type of guy that is on the swim team." I smirked at the incredulous look that moved across Martin's handsome face.
"Meaning?"
"He's got tats, lots of them, and he drives a bike, but he's a great guy. Looks can be a little deceiving." I shrugged and clasped my hands behind my back, pulling into a deep stretch.
"Have you seen him swim?" He crossed his arms over his chest.
"Nope, but I'm not asking you to let him on the team. Just give him a chance to try out. I know the try outs are closed, but you know Coach Dalmoth. Open it back up for him. You'll not be disappointed." I turned to see Dill motion for us to join him on the courts. It was our turn to play.
"You score the first three points in this game and I'll do it." He smirked, playing with me like he always did. He was a great guy, and Katelyn was lucky, but then again, so was he.
"Consider it done." I extended my hand and shook his before jogging out onto the court. I moved back into place as the tip off happened and jumped as hard as I could as the ball flew back toward me. I wanted to give Tate a chance at one of this dreams or at least crack open the door. Part of it was to say thank you for being so good to me the night before, but part of it was me starting to like him as a person. He was going to defend me at the burger place earlier that day even though there were four guys who were all bigger than him.
He didn't seem to care.
I turned and moved down the court, twisting and using every dribbling move I had to out maneuver the large guys that tried to take the ball from me. It wasn't going to be easy to get a three-pointer by any means. A layup, no problem, but having to stop on the outer rim while everyone was racing toward me?
Fuck.
I faked a jump at the three-point line and the large guy in front of me jumped, too. The moment he started to come down, I lifted on my toes and pushed off, letting the ball fly from my fingers and scoring the first three points of the game.
The crowd went wild and I let out a loud yell. I found Martin in the crowd, and he shook his head as a big smile lifted his lips.
He mouthed his response and I nodded.
Saturday. Two p.m. Don't be late.
Awesome.
Chapter 10
Tate
The rest of the afternoon and evening went by incredibly slow. After having lunch with Val, I wanted more of her. More time with her, if even just a quick moment. Anger burned through me at the thought of the blond dickhead from the hamburger place hurting her, and I had to calm myself more than once over it. How anyone could hurt a woman that looked as sweet as she did, and obviously had the heart to back it up, was beyond me.
What I couldn't reconcile was my prejudice against rich people and how I felt about her already, even just having met her. The bitch in the car the night before was much more in tune with what I expected from David Scott's kid. The more I thought about it, the more I remembered hearing about her family and their involvement in politics and the various school boards around the area. They had their name everywhere, and if I recalled correctly, the business building at UMN was named after her father, too.
"How's it going, buddy? You're working a whole lot slower than you usually do." Jerry patted me on the back as he stopped beside me under a Mustang I was working on. The breaks were shot and the fix usually took me an hour at most, but I'd been at my current project for a little over two hours at that point.
"Sorry, I guess I have too much on my mind." I wiped my forearm over my face and let out a long sigh. "Do you think all poor people are greedy and bitch about their lack all the time?"
"Nope." Jerry reached up and turned a knob that I was headed toward next. "And, I don't think all rich people are bad. People are people, Tate. You know that."
"Yeah, I guess." I lifted my arms and went back to work as my mind wandered in various dark corners, trying to discern if people really did fit certain classifications based on wealth or their social status.
"If you won a million dollars, what would you do with it?" He patted my back once. "Would you spend it all over the course of a week on all the toys you've always wanted?"
I pulled my hands down and turned to face him. "What? Of course not. I'd take care of my debts, put my mother in a nice house, and help out a few friends and some of the poorer families in my neighborhood. If there was anything left, I'd put it up for the future."
"And what would you do for yourself? Get a new bike? Vacation? A yacht?" He wagged his eyebrows.
"No, I'm good. I love my bike, and I don't have time to take off. You guys need me here." I smirked and went back to working.
"Exactly. Not everyone is what they seem, boy. You're not the anomaly, but those that live up to their stigma are." He walked away as his words sunk in. He had to be right.
Valentine didn't seem at all to be a rich bitch by any stretch of the imagination. She hadn't walked into the shop flaunting the fact that her father owned half the state of Minnesota. She'd been humble and not mentioned any of it until Jerry pulled it out of her. The night before, she'd just been trying to protect herself, or maybe I was giving her too much credit as it were.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted my mom, just checking in. My phone rang almost immediately with my mother's number on it. For a minute, I thought maybe I'd accidentally dialed her, but no, she was calling me. She never bothered me at work unless it was an emergency.
"Mom?" I walked out of the shop and into the darkness. I didn’t stop to grab my coat, but hopefully, I wouldn't be out there long.
"Tate, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need you." Her voice was pinched with fear and she was panting. My heart went into my throat almost immediately.
"Mom? What's going on? What's wrong?" Terror gripped me, and I jogged back to the garage to lay my tools down. Jerry glanced up, and I mouthed that it was my mom and I was leaving. He simply nodded. He knew the drama that continued to encircle my life since I'd been a boy.
"Daniel's here
, Tate. Please be careful coming home." She let out a soft yelp just before she started crying. "I'm trying to be quiet."
"Fuck. Where are you?" I ran to my bike and got on, starting the engine. Her ex-boyfriend was supposed to still be in jail. Why wasn't he?
"I'm in the cabinet under your bathroom sink. He broke in. Hurry. Please. I'm scared." She let out another whimper, and damn if I didn't feel the burn of tears in my eyes. If anything happened to her, I was going to kill that motherfucker with my bare hands.
"Hold on. I'll be there in five minutes. Don't make a sound, Mom. Please." I dropped the call, unable to hold the phone to my ear while driving.
I made it home in three minutes by doing close to a hundred the whole way there. I pulled out my phone and dialed 9-1-1 as I raced toward the door.
"Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?"
"My stepfather is out of jail and trying to kill my mother. Look up the address from the phone. I'm leaving it on the porch and going in. Hurry." I sat the phone down and ducked into the house.
The sound of my mother screaming accompanied with the sickening thud of someone being beat left my lunch rising in my stomach.
I grabbed the baseball bat from the hall closet and raced down the hall.
"You sorry bitch. You shouldn't have tried to have me locked up. I'll-"
He didn't get another word out as I reached into the bathroom and grabbed a handful of his greasy hair. I pulled hard, and he screamed, but so did my mother. He had a handful of her hair, as well.
I didn't think twice before swinging the bat and hitting him in the chest before he could figure out what was going on. He dropped her, and she scurried back in to the bathroom as she continued to cry amid her horrible coughing.
"You sorry motherfucker." I hit him again, but he wasn't one to lay back and take a beating. The nasty scar across his ugly face was new, fresh. I had to guess that he didn't play too well with the guy in his cell.