Kicked: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  “How long?” she ground out between her teeth. Her perfect hair was coiffed on her head and her shirt hung just right, just enough that it was impossible to tell if she was showing at all. “How long, Abigail?”

  I tried to think up the best way to phrase this. Did I say a week? That's when we'd made it official. But no. It didn't seem right. Only complete honesty would work here.

  “Since I first met him,” I whispered, eyes tearing up. “Since forever. I've loved your son for as long as I can remember.”

  River choked and turned away, pushing outside and onto the sidewalk. Flor and I watched as she put her hands on her lower back and leaned over. He went after her like a shot, putting his arm around her waist. I watched as River Riley-Sharp, a woman who'd been a helicopter mom to her son, who loved him more than anything or anyone (except for possibly my dad), jerked away from my stepbrother and walked a few steps down the sidewalk. When they disappeared from view, I let my back hit the wall. I could hear the faint whispers of shouts from outside, but I knew better than to go after them. If anyone could calm River down, it'd be her son. The last thing she needed right now was to look me in the face. A sense of betrayal washed over me, but I shook it off. I couldn't think like that or I'd break down.

  Flor and my love was not a betrayal; it was a blessing. I closed my eyes, let myself think about last night, how perfect it had been. I would get through this; I would.

  A few minutes later, after I'd finally calmed my breathing down, Flor burst back in the door, sweeping his fingers through his hair over and over again.

  “She's calling your dad,” he told me with a grim look on his face. I just stared up at him, my entire body going rigid with fear. “She promised she wouldn't tell him over the phone if we went over to the house.” I swallowed and nodded.

  Right now, seeing my dad was literally the last thing I wanted, but I'd gotten myself into this mess. I would get myself out. Flor and I would be happy. Keep telling yourself that, Abigail.

  Flor reached out a hand covered in ink, and I took it, wrapping my fingers around his and letting him pull me in against his chest. As soon as I heard the gentle thump of his heartbeat, I relaxed a little. This was what I was fighting for, right here, and it was so worth it.

  Flor and I drove to our parents' house in silence, hands clasped between our seats, faces forward. We pulled into the driveway behind River with no sign of my father's black BMW in sight. Thank God for small miracles. I was hoping we'd have a minute or two to collect ourselves before he showed up and stormed in the front door, demanding to know what the emergency was. Meanwhile, I could sit here and stew and see the image of Addi's stunned face when I'd run up the stairs and told her. The goodbye hug she'd given me felt like a send off, like I was on my way to my own funeral.

  “We'll survive this,” Flor promised, glancing over at me. The words were nice, but the tone behind them said maybe. I looked over at him and bit my bottom lip.

  “I might,” I said, trying to make a joke, “but you might not. You know my dad keeps all his guns in the house.” I smiled, but Flor paled and then jumped when River's knuckles rapped on his window.

  “Come inside,” she mouthed and moved off towards the front door.

  Flor and I exchanged one more look before following after her. This time, we didn't hold hands.

  “What the hell is Gram Gram going to say about this?” River asked as soon as we set foot inside the house. Gram Gram was Flor's grandmother, but she treated me like her own grandchild. Hell, half the time I forgot she wasn't actually related to me. Since she lived in New York, I hadn't given much thought as to how she'd take the news. Crap.

  “We'll deal with Gram Gram later,” Flor said, leaning against the wall and looking sexy as ever with his dark hair, brightly colored tattoos and piercings. I smiled tightly at him and he returned the expression. “She survived both strokes she had when she found out about the smoking and the tattoos,” he said, pointing to himself. River wasn't amused.

  “There's an explanation for all of this,” she mumbled, most likely searching her brain for possible disorders to apply to the two of us. Little did she know that no amount of talking would clear Florian from my head. Trust me, I'd tried. I'd spent years trying to convince myself that this wouldn't work based on this very scenario – telling our parents. Yet, here I was, standing in the dining room with shaking hands and a sweaty back. My shirt was already sticking to my skin. Gross.

  River whirled around, looking between the two of us.

  “When were you planning on telling me?” she asked curtly, sending that nice, bright shock of betrayal through my body again. “Hmm? When you moved in together? After you were married? Got pregnant?”

  “We didn't want to upset you,” Flor said, gesturing weakly at his mother. The implications hung unsaid in the air between the three of us. Didn't want to do anything that might hurt our unborn sister. “So please, calm down before you pass out.” Flor stepped forward and put the back of his hand to his mother's forehead, but she swatted him away. He pulled out a chair anyway and she slumped into it, looking defeated. “Mom, I love her,” Flor said again, turning my insides to mush. Damn you. I didn't think I'd ever get tired of hearing it. “Mom.”

  “I heard you, Florian,” River mumbled, running her long, pale fingers down her face. She looked seconds away from throwing up. “Obviously, you're both adults and I can't stop you from doing anything.” She took a deep breath. “And of course, I don't approve.” She held up a hand before Flor could butt in. “I understand that you're not related, son. I get that. This might not be incest, but we're still a family. How could … how could you even let it get this far?” Flor looked away, shame flickering across his face.

  “It was my fault,” I blurted, drawing River's attention back to me. “I wouldn't let it go. Flor tried.” I licked my lower lip. “Trust me, he really tried, but I … I couldn't let him just move on with his life without telling him. And then I did, and things … got more complicated from there. I know what we're asking when we say we're together. We're asking you to forget everything you ever thought you knew about family and how things are supposed to work.” I took a deep breath. I knew I was climbing precariously close to the cheesy, preachy end of story speech that accompanied most TV dramas, but I couldn't help myself. Those people, with all of their drama, had nothing on me. It was like I was standing knee-deep in a telenovela or something. “Just like you fought to make a family out of Flor and me and my dad, maybe we can fight to make something beautiful.” I refused to look at Flor while I was talking. Either he'd be laughing at me or … worse. Maybe he'd be gazing at me with tenderness? I shivered. I mean, I wanted him to look at me that way, but it was hard to take in. “Family isn't what it used to be. Arrangements that nobody thought were okay before are okay now. Beautiful now, perfect even.” I twisted my hands together. I knew I could make some comparisons to interracial couples or gay couples or something, but I didn't want to beg off the struggles of others. Flor was my stepbrother, yes, and in some circles, that made him my brother, but to me, he wasn't, and that was all that should rightfully matter.

  I bounced on my toes and looked at anything and everything but Flor and River's faces. Just when I thought I was going to die from the awkward silence and the sick churning in my belly, the front door opened.

  Fuck.

  My throat went dry and my head swam as I struggled not to pass out.

  “Hey Dad,” I said, swallowing hard and forcing my fingers into my pockets. It was the only way to keep them still.

  “Abigail,” he said, pausing in the entrance to the dining room. As always, his eyes immediately strayed to Flor, taking in his tight jeans and T-shirt, tattoos and piercings, with the usual amount of scorn and disapproval. If he'd actually liked Flor, I wasn't sure if the whole situation would be easier or twice as difficult. I mean, obviously my dad wouldn't want me to be with someone he disliked as much as he did Flor, but at the same time, maybe I was lucky that he didn't
consider Flor the son he never had. “What's all this about?” he tucked his keys into his pocket and made his way over to River for a kiss. “Is everything alright?”

  “Everything's fine,” River said, and for a split second I had hope that maybe she wouldn't tell him, that we could keep this to ourselves for a while. I should've known better. River and my dad shared everything. They were that perfect fairytale couple that everyone wanted to be. The last thing I wanted was to ruin what they had between them. “Physically speaking,” she adding, causing my dad to raise one thin brow. He sat down in the chair opposite her and took her hands in his. Based on his actions, I was guessing he had no idea what was going on. Maybe he just thought Flor and me were here to be witnesses to whatever River had to say? At that point, I truly believed he had no idea that this whole family meeting revolved around the two of us.

  “Art,” River began, sucking in a deep breath and looking between Flor and me. “Maybe you two should take a seat before I begin?”

  “Stop trying to turn this into a therapy session,” Flor growled. “We're not your fucking clients.”

  “Don't you dare speak to your mother like that, not in my house,” my father rumbled back, intimidating even with his balding head and white button down. Flor just rolled his eyes and came around the table to stand beside me, my father's back to us. Unfortunately River refused to let us have this conversation without the accompanying awkward eye contact, and made my dad turn his chair so that the four of us created a semi-circle at the edge of the table.

  “It'll be okay,” Flor whispered, leaning in close enough so that only I could hear. “I promise.”

  “I left work for this,” Art said, looking at my stepmom and not at us. I was glad; he kept his voice far more pleasant when he was talking to her. “I hope this is as important as you say it is.”

  “Of course, honey,” River said, looking back up at me and Flor. “I learned something today that involves our children.” Her words cut across the sudden silence like weapons as my dad slowly turned his gaze over to us. “What I discovered is … ” She took another deep breath and reconsidered her words. I knew Flor was continuously frustrated at his mother and her psychology degree, that he hated being treated like a client, but this time, I was grateful for it. It looked like she was trying to take the 'empathy, congruence, and unconditional positive regard' that was at the basis of her therapy sessions and bring it here. Flor might be pissed, but River's tendency to adapt to stressful situations like this might actually be to our benefit. “You know how Jacqueline called me this morning and asked me to stop by?” Jacqueline was the owner of the shoe shop beneath my apartment, part of the building that my stepmom owned outright. Ugh. Things could get bad quick.

  My dad nodded and River continued while I stood there like a person awaiting an oncoming train. I could see it coming, knew how bad it would hurt, knew that it would most likely kill me, and yet I couldn't move.

  “Well, I did,” River said and then laid her fingers on my father's forearm. “And while I was there, I thought I'd stop by and pay Abi a visit.”

  Flor reached out suddenly and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. My father noticed and frowned, but didn't say anything.

  “Okay?” he prompted, his voice low and much gruffer than usual.

  “I'm going to tell you my observations and then I'm going to let the kids explain. I think we should try our best not to judge.” We all knew that was wishful thinking. My dad was pure logic and hard facts and judging was something he did best. Having your two kids, even if they weren't related by blood, get together in any sort of capacity was not ideal.

  I closed my eyes.

  “I found them kissing in the stairwell.”

  River exhaled like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

  “Kissing?” My dad didn't sound angry yet, more like he was confused. “Kissing who?”

  “Each other. Art, Abigail and Florian are … they claim to be in love.”

  Silence.

  “Art?” River's voice sounded worried. Not good. Still, my eyes felt like they were glued shut. I couldn't force them open. And then, the sound of a chair being scraped across the floor.

  “You son of a bitch!”

  My father's yell jolted me awake. That, and the sudden absence of Flor's warm fingers wrapped around mine as he stumbled away from my dad and backed towards the kitchen, hands held up and palms forward placatingly. My dad moved after him while River tried her best to intervene.

  “Art, please!” she shouted, grabbing onto his arm as he took a swing at Flor and hit him right in the face. Blood streamed from my stepbrother's split lip and dripped onto the black fabric of his T-shirt. “Don't you dare hit my son again!”

  I should've done something, but I couldn't. My family is falling apart. I did this.

  “I should've thrown you out of the house a long time ago,” my dad snarled, looking like a monster even in his glasses and his perfect slacks. “What have you done to my daughter?”

  “I haven't done shit!” Flor screamed back at him and I felt the air heat with long suppressed rage and anger and resentment. It stirred the air between the two of them, turned a tempest right there over the dining room table. “She loves me Art. I love her. If you'd open your eyes for two seconds to see that, if you let her be herself instead of judging her all the time, maybe you'd have figured that shit out by now.”

  My dad let fly another punch, hitting Flor right in the nose, but he didn't fight back. His fists were clenched and his green eyes shone with rage.

  “Get the fuck out of my house and don't come back here.”

  “Art, stop,” River pleaded, grabbing his arm. “It's not just Florian. This thing goes both ways.”

  “I want him out. End of discussion.” My dad turned to me then and a fire lit up his eyes like I'd never seen. I wanted to melt into the floor, disappear into a puddle and never come back. “We're cutting him out of our lives like we should've done a long time ago. He's a poison.”

  “You can't make decisions like that!” River screeched, her practiced professional patience disappearing in the wake of her anger. I'd debated before if she loved my father or her son more; I was afraid I was about to find out.

  “He's a lost cause, River. Look at him!” My dad thrust a finger out towards Flor. “Do you want someone like him around our daughter?” The implications of that turned Flor's anger into a violent rage and I watched in horror as he grabbed my dad by the back of the shirt and yanked him away from his mom.

  “Get the fuck away from my mother,” Flor snarled as my dad and him got up in each other's faces.

  I ruined my family.

  I had known this might happen, had been prepared to choose Flor over our parents, but I guess I hadn't actually realized what that would be like. In actuality, I felt like I was in a horror movie. I'd rather have a serial killer take a knife to my throat than have to deal with this mess I've made.

  “Are you going to wait until this one grows up, too? Prey on her like you did Abi?”

  Flor punched my dad in the face and my stepmother screamed as the two of them exploded into fists. How did this get so bad so fast?

  I started to back away, watching as River miraculously managed to step between the two.

  “Art,” she said, trying to regain some of her composure and failing. I felt her gaze land on me. “This is not just Florian's fault. Maybe your daughter seduced him? Did you ever think of that?”

  My heart broke in my chest.

  My stepmom was throwing me under the bus just like that while my dad eagerly salivated at the thought of throwing away a kid he'd raised for the past thirteen years, making threats he knew weren't even remotely true. Flor didn't prey on me. He wasn't a danger to our unborn sister. This wasn't about us being siblings. In fact, our love was in spite of that. It had to overcome one of the greatest obstacles of all time. But as I watched the situation before me unfold, I had a terrible thought.

  “I knew it,” I w
hispered as I watched them glare at one another. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “I knew Flor and I being together shouldn't matter because we aren't family. This,” I gestured weakly at the three of them. “This isn't a real family at all. It never was.”

  I turned and ran from the room, snatching Flor's keys off the entryway table as I went.

  I heard him call out after me, heard the sound of his boots, but I slammed the door in his face and bolted down the steps and into the car before he could reach me.

  When I peeled out of the driveway, the last thing I saw were his green eyes watching me go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Are you sure you don't want to pick up the phone?” Addi asked, trying to hand me my cell. I stayed where I was, curled up next to her on the couch and refused to take it. “This is like the tenth call in as many minutes.”

  I shook my head and swiped tears away. I figured Flor would be here right after me, but he hadn't shown up yet. I mean, I knew I was the one that had run out, but I'd wanted him to follow after. If he had, it would mean that this wasn't over yet, that we could still be together no matter what.

  “Who's it from?” I asked, my throat creaky and my words warbling.

  “Your dad. Again.”

  I sat up and hugged a pillow to my chest, painfully aware of Patrick's desperate attempts to not intrude on our girl time. He was in the kitchen trying to make himself something to eat before he left to go to a job interview.

  “If it's Flor, I might take it,” I whispered. “Nobody else.”

  Addi sighed and watched me with sympathetic eyes. At least I had her to count on. She'd known about my Flor obsession since forever and hadn't shunned me for it. That's what real family was all about. Real family stood by you no matter what, didn't judge, let you be yourself and loved you for it.

  “But I guess he's not calling.” I paused and wiped away a sniffle. “Or coming.”

  “You guessed wrong, dope.” The door swung open and Flor marched in, his face a bloody mess and his clothes rumpled from the fight. I wanted to stand up and throw myself at him, but I didn't. I made myself sit and wait for him to come to me, to wrap me in his arms and pull me against him. His fingers brushed through my hair and drew a shaky breath from my chest. “Sorry I took so long. You took my car, remember? And the fight didn't stop after you left. Your dad rushed me.” I curled my fingers in Flor's shirt. “And then my mom took off and we got into yet another fight trying to stop her. I have no idea where she is right now and she won't answer her phone.”