Whiplash: A Sports Romance

by Tabatha Kiss

  “Because that’s not rude or anything…”

  “Where’d you get it?” he asks me.

  “It’s Tobias’,” I answer.

  “I know. How did you get it?”

  “He gave it to me. Just ask him.”

  He sighs. “I don’t need to.” His eyes, soft and warmer than I thought they’d be, stare down at me. “Claire, I was a cop for over twenty years.”

  “So?”

  “So, there’s not a whole lot I don’t notice,” he says. “I notice that when you barely sleep, you sneak out at night and hide out in my barn. I even notice when my truck has magically shifted a few inches away from where I last parked it.”

  I look to the floor, obviously confirming any suspicions he has of my activities.

  “And I notice…” he pauses, “that my son is smiling again for the first time in months.”

  “I’m sorry, Charlie,” I tell him. “You told me to stay away from him and I didn’t.”

  “As the man tasked with setting you straight, I’m a tad bit perturbed at that, but… as his father, I’m kind of happy you didn’t.” He brushes a hand through the air. “I don’t need to know the details of your relationship because it ain’t my business—”

  “There’s nothing to tell—”

  He holds up his hand to silence me. “But obviously, the two of you have gotten through to each other in ways I couldn’t and I guess that’s fine.” I take a deep breath, surprised by his reaction. “You trust him.”

  “I do.”

  “Good,” he says. “I’ve known quite a few girls in my time, ones a lot like you, Claire, and trust is really hard for them to come by after what they’ve been through.” I look up at him and swallow the rock in my throat back down. “Do you want to talk about what you saw today?” he asks.

  I flash back to Mary’s cold, pale face. “Not really,” I say.

  He nods. “Did you learn anything?”

  “Drugs are bad,” I mutter.

  “Good girl.” He pushes off the doorway. “Every day, I wish that my daughter knew that, too.”

  “Well, if she was anything like me, she knew. She just didn’t care.” I look back at him and he gives a short, understanding smile. “Charlie—” He pauses in the door frame. “It wasn’t a banana peel.”

  “I know.” He says nothing else before walking back down the stairs.

  ***

  I step into the barn and make quick strides towards the punching bag in the corner. The setting sun casts an orange glow over everything, but the serene feeling it offers me is quickly struck down by everything awful I feel inside of me. Anger, fear, frustration. You name it, and I’m feeling it right now. The world is a cruel and unfair place. The things I’ve been through — or rather, the things I’ve put myself through for no damn reason — don’t compare to what’s happened to Tobias or Charlie. I’m selfish and deeply stupid, but I don’t want to be.

  I roll my hands into fists and slam them into the punching bag over and over again.

  “Protect your face.”

  I spin around and look up to see Tobias sitting in the loft, laying against the hay bales near the window. The light of the world casts shadows across his beautiful face, but even that’s not enough to distract me right now. “What are you doing up there?” I ask with annoyance.

  He shrugs. “I come up here to think sometimes. This was Mary’s favorite place when we were kids.”

  I sigh and turn back to the bag. “I suppose that’s yet another thing I’ve done since I got here that’s reminded you of your sister.” I punch the bag. Hard. “Isn’t that just great?”

  “Claire—”

  “Not really looking for pointers, Tobias.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asks calmly.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” I fume. Each punch feels more painful against my soft knuckles, but I keep going. “I just feel like hitting something right now.”

  “Why?”

  “Why the hell not?!”

  “Does he know you’re out here?”

  “I don’t care.” I lash out with a flurry of sloppy punches and kicks.

  The noise thumps so loudly in my ears, I don’t even hear Tobias come down from the loft. “Claire—” he palms my fist mid-air and easily holds it steady, even when I try to pull it away. “Stop.”

  “No!” I shout. I pull my hand away and he releases it. “I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to slow down. I want to keep moving because if I don’t, then it just hurts more.”

  Tobias moves behind the punching bag and holds it steady for me. “What hurts more?” he asks.

  “Everything,” I answer. I swing forward and the satisfying smack reverberates up my arm, fueling the next punch. My heart pounds in my ears. The quick thumping sound gives me a rhythm to match with each punch I throw. “I feel like such an idiot…”

  “You’re not an idiot.”

  “Yeah, well, what would you call someone that willingly ruins their life for stupid reasons?”

  “Human.”

  I pause and roll my eyes at him. “Cute,” I bite. I spin around in a circle to gain momentum before backhanding the bag.

  “Nice hit,” he says.

  “Don’t do that—” I say. “I’m not looking for compliments right now.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  I let a punch linger on the bag and I hold it there while I catch my breath. “I don’t know anymore. I thought I knew. I thought I had it all figured out for me, but… I really am just a kid, aren’t I?”

  “You’ll outgrow that,” he smiles.

  I punch the bag again, this time striking it with slower hits as my arms start to tire. “There’s always someone out there that has it worse off.”

  “That doesn’t make what you’re feeling any less valid, Claire.”

  “You sound like Charlie now.”

  “There are worse things in the world,” he jokes.

  I lower my arms. “Me and Mary. Rick and Pike — it’s all the same.”

  “It’s not the same,” he whispers.

  “Seems pretty similar.”

  He abandons the bag and steps closer to me. “Then change it,” he says. “Start over. Be someone better.”

  “How?” I ask him.

  His fingers take my hand and he begins rubbing the red rashes forming along my knuckles. My skin twitches and the pain spikes with each firm rub he gives me. “Stay here,” he says.

  “Stay here?” I parrot back.

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t stay here.”

  “Why not? Your birthday is next week. You said you’re going to go back to Chicago, but if you ask me, that’s not what you really want anymore.”

  I pull my hand away from him. “You don’t know what I want, Tobias.”

  “Then what do you want, Claire?”

  I bite my bottom lip. I can taste the words on my tongue, sweet and satisfying, but I can’t bring myself to say them out loud. “I want to go back inside now,” I whisper. I step around him.

  Tobias grabs me quickly and spins us around to set me against the wooden ladder to the loft. My vision blurs, so overwhelmed by the sudden movement that it makes me dizzy. I feel weightless in his strong arms, completely under his control. “Claire,” he says. “What do you want?”

  Every nerve in my body quivers against him as he holds me with ease. “Why are you doing this, Tobias?” I ask him. “One minute, you say you can’t touch me, and the next—”

  “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.” A low growl teases me on the edge of his quiet tone. “I saw you… standing in her room and I felt alive, Claire. I touched you and I haven’t been able to sit still since.”

  “Then why stop?” I tremble. “Why not just take what you want?”

  “I’m not that kind of man,” he says with heavy breath. “I won’t try to take from you what he did.” He grip softens and he takes a slow step back.

  “What if I give it t
o you?” I ask, leaning forward into his arms again.

  “If that’s what you want, Claire…” he says, “then I will be there for you, but we have to do this right.”

  I step back. “You want to wait.”

  He nods. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  I bite my lips with frustration. They want so badly to feel him against them, to feel the bite of his teeth and the caress of his tongue. My mouth waters. My senses quiver. He’s so close. I could taste him right now if I wanted to, but I know he’s right. It may be the right thing, but it feels so very wrong. “Okay,” I whisper against my will.

  His hands move down my body, but he fights his own temptations and steps away from me.

  Chapter 11

  Code Of Conduct

  “Happy birthday, honey.”

  I lean against the kitchen doorway with the phone against my ear. “Thanks, Mom,” I say. My mother’s voice sounds strange to me now, even though it’s only been a week since I last heard it and almost three since I’ve seen her face. It couldn’t have changed, so I can only assume that it’s me that’s changed and not the other way around.

  Charlie lingers in front of me with his arms crossed about his chest. I shoot him a glare and he retreats back to the table with his coffee. I turn around and face the empty living room.

  “Have you had a good day?”

  I smile. “Not bad.”

  “Anything special happen?”

  “Well, I think today is the first day since I got here where I didn’t get a single mosquito bite,” I say. “Either that, or I just don’t feel it anymore.”

  My mother laughs. “Well, that’s something.”

  “I guess.” A silence falls between us for a few moments. I can feel Charlie’s eyes on me, burning a hole into the back of my head. I peak over my shoulder and confirm my suspicion. Another quick glare in his direction and he turns in his seat to pretend to focus on his paper.

  “Charlie told me you’re feeling pretty stable now,” she says.

  “Yeah.”

  “Have any fun plans for the weekend? I thought I’d come down and get you so you don’t have to bus back. There’s a great new shop that just opened on—”

  “Mom…” I begin, “there’s something that I need to say.”

  She pauses. I hear her breath strike the phone, a quick and sudden sigh. “Okay,” she says.

  “It’s not anything horrible, I just…” I bite my lip, trying hard to choose the right words. “I’m going to be staying here for a little while longer.”

  “Oh?” she asks. “He said you were ready to go.”

  “Yeah, I am but… I’ve been making some good progress here,” I say, nodding at no one. “I don’t want to go just yet.”

  “Are you sure?” I can hear the hesitation in her voice. She never wanted to send me away in the first place, that much is certain. It was my stepfather’s idea, but she never fought it either. “I was looking forward to having you back.”

  “I know. Me, too. But… I need more time.”

  The last thing I want is to be put back in that environment. Charlie told me that in order to heal, you have to eliminate what caused the pain in the first place. My stepfather. Rick. Chicago. Everything about them set me up to fail. Now that I’ve felt a new life without that pain, I don’t want to take steps back. I want to move forward and I can do that here.

  “All right, Claire,” she says. “If that’s what you think you need…”

  “It is,” I reply. “I’ll talk to you again soon.” I quickly hang the phone up. My hand lingers on the hard plastic receiver while I take several deep breaths to calm my nerves.

  “That sounded like it went well.”

  I turn around and look at Charlie. “Could have gone worse.”

  “How did she take it?” he asks.

  “Good,” I say. “I don’t think she was expecting it though.”

  “I think you made the right call.”

  “I think so, too,” I say. A clear feeling nestles in my head.

  “So, when were you going to ask me if you could stay longer?” he smiles.

  I blink. “Oh yeah…”

  Charlie stands up from the table. “I’m kidding,” he says. “Claire, you can stay here for as long as you feel you need to.”

  I let out a soft chuckle. “Thank you.”

  “Lord knows I could use the help around here.”

  “I’ll earn my keep,” I tell him. “I promise.”

  “I know you will.” A knock strikes the front door. “But first…” He gestures for me to answer it.

  I turn around and walk passed the stairwell into the foyer. Charlie follows me in and leans against the kitchen doorway.

  I open the door to find Amy standing on the front porch wearing a short, black skirt, a red blouse, and killer heels. The setting sun burns the sky behind her blonde head. “Hey, Amy,” I greet with suspicion. “What’s up?”

  She grins. “I’ve come to kidnap you!”

  “Umm…” I glance back at Charlie and he smiles.

  “It’s your birthday,” Amy says. “It’s time to party!”

  I turn around. “What’s this?” I ask Charlie.

  He shrugs. “Work. Reward.”

  A smile attacks my lips. “Really? You’re letting me go out for the night?”

  “You only turn eighteen once,” he says, then quickly points a finger. “But you are going to be careful and safe.”

  “Oh, I promise!” I say, excitement building in my chest.

  “And Tobias is going with you.”

  “Ah, boo!” Amy teases. “A chaperone.”

  “Amy…” Charlie raises an eyebrow.

  “I’m only kidding, Mr. Eastwood. We’ll be happy to take him with us.” She looks back at me. “Go get changed into something slutty.”

  I look at Charlie and shake my head as he glares back at her. “She’s just joking,” I say quickly.

  “Oh, yeah, totally,” she says to him as she steps inside. She quickly spins back around. ‘No, I’m not,’ she mouths silently.

  I laugh and close the front door.

  ***

  “Where are we going?” I ask as I watch the dark highway pass by us from the window of Amy’s car.

  “Jefferson City,” she replies.

  “What’s in Jefferson City?” I ask as I fiddle with ends of my skirt, yet another loan from the back of Mary’s closet. I didn’t want to wear it, but Amy insisted on it. Then I saw Tobias’ reaction to it and I knew I had to keep it on.

  “Clubs, my friend.” A grin crosses Amy’s red lips. “Clubs that you can’t find where we come from, that’s for damn sure. Might as well make use of that new age bracket when Charlie lets you out, am I right?”

  “Sounds like fun,” I say.

  She reaches out and adjusts her rear view mirror to get a better look at Tobias in the backseat. “Unless our bodyguard has any objections,” she teases.

  “I don’t care where you go,” he says. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Implying I’ve done stupid things before…”

  “I’m not implying anything, Amy,” he chuckles. “But to be fair, you do run the local branch of an illegal fighting championship.”

  “A championship that you better win, Toby…” she warns. “You’re the first fighter from our area to make it to the final round in nearly a decade.”

  I turn around in my seat. “Is that true?” I ask him.

  “Apparently,” he mutters.

  “And if he wins, I get a big, fat bonus check,” Amy smirks at him again in the mirror. “So, make sure you eat lots of protein, get plenty of rest, and kick Pike’s mangy ass tomorrow night.”

  He glances out the window. “I don’t plan on losing,” he says.

  She revs the engine. “That’s my boy.”

  I stare at him as a smile climbs to my lips. His eyes flick in my direction, a stunning forest green that reflects back at me as the stree
tlights pass by overhead. “What?” he asks.

  “Nothing,” I say before turning back around to face forward.

  Amy digs her heel a little harder into the gas pedal. “So, what’s the deal with you two? You fucking yet?”

  I jerk in her direction with wide eyes.

  “Real smooth, Amy,” Tobias says.

  “What?” She looks at me and shrugs her shoulders. “I’m just curious.” Her eyes glance back to the road. “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me.”

  “Wasn’t going to,” he replies.

  Amy grins silently again, but casts a knowing glance my way. I swallow down a nervous tremble and bite my lip as I remember his kiss on it once more.

  ***

  After an hour of thumping bass, I almost miss the calmness of the farmhouse. It’s strange how so much can change in so little time. This used to be all I lived for. I’d wake up in the morning and wonder where the next party was going to be. It’s only been a few weeks, but it feels like a lifetime ago.

  “A vodka tonic for me,” Amy says as she returns from the bar. “And two waters for the squares.” She sets one glass down in front of me at our table and another in front of Tobias.

  “Thanks,” I tell her as I take a sip. I relish in the cold, icy drink as it falls down my warm throat.

  “I almost forgot that you’re only eighteen,” she jokes over the loud music. “And you, Toby…” She points a finger at him. “No alcohol for you. I need you hydrated.”

  He grabs his glass and smiles. “Just let me know if you need me to drive us home.”

  Amy scoffs. “No one drives my baby but me.”

  “Then take it easy on the vodka tonics,” he warns.

  “I will. I have to open the store tomorrow anyway.”

  I take another sip of water. “Why do you work in the grocery store?” I ask. “Don’t you make enough money from the fights alone?”

  Amy grins. “Yes, I do.” She leans forward. “But it’d be quite suspicious if I were suddenly raking in money without a job, wouldn’t it?”

  I nod. “You live a secret cover life, too?”

  “We live in a really small town, Claire,” Amy says. “If you want to blend in, you have to make some sacrifices. My personal sacrifice is twenty hours a week behind a counter for two bucks above minimum wage. My mother did the same thing.”