by Danah Logan
The only way to get some shut-eye was with the help of our in-house bar. I hadn't gone on another bender; Kai made sure of that by gluing himself to my side. However, I had a steady buzz going and became a regular at The Moose's Head. The clerk now greeted me by name, and it had been just ten days since my life got ripped from under me for the second time in less than three years.
Coach made it his personal mission to make me pay for my cock brain—his words, not mine. I was his star player, head in the game, and all the shit, until I let my dick think for me because of a girl. I was about to snap at him that she wasn't just any girl when I remembered who she was and shut my trap.
After that, I took his punishment and promised him—and myself—that this would not happen again. I made a point to show up early and participate in everything that didn't require the use of my injured hand. In addition, I got signed up for extra cardio sessions and became the team's personal gopher—also part of my sentence. I deserved it. And as soon as I was done in the evenings, I went home to my liquid distraction.
Kai tried asking a few times what happened, but I ignored him until he mentioned her.
We were sitting on the couch, a game on the flat-screen TV—no clue who was playing because all I cared about was how much I could drink before Mr. Functioning Alcoholic cut me off. I was about to lift my drink to my lips when my roommate turned his head in my direction.
"I've waited long enough. I need some answers. You've gone off the fucking rails and become…me." He gestured at the glass in my hand. "Zeke's boy acts all fidgety around us, like he forgot to pull his favorite vibrator out of his ass. And no one has seen your girl since you fucked your football gig by pounding a wall. Seriously, what the—"
I was on him before he could finish that sentence. My fingers curled into a fist, and I drew my arm back. Tunnel vision took over, and all I saw was Gray's hand on King's shoulder. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, and my nails dug deeper into the palm of my hand. I was shaking from trying to hold back. A voice was screaming in my head that none of this was Kai's fault.
Suddenly, my wrist was in a vise. I was being lifted off Kai in one swift motion and dropped carelessly on the floor in front of the couch.
"What the fuck, Sheats?" Zeke roared at me. "Dude, are you okay?" That was directed at my roommate.
I blinked once, twice, and my surroundings came back into focus. Zeke was leaned over Kai, who was bending his head left and right as if I'd choked him.
Shit, did I choke him?
Mack was standing off to the side with his girlfriend tucked close. Her hand was covering her mouth, and her eyes were wide. Slightly behind them, I noticed the one person I did not want to see—Kiwi.
I wanted to kick the traitor out of my house, but logic set in, and I would have had to answer even more questions that I wouldn't acknowledge.
I pushed myself off the ground and stalked to my room, ignoring all of them, and slammed my door—which I finally got back two days ago.
Since the incident in the living room, I stay in my bedroom whenever I'm home. I manage to avoid Kai and the others for almost a week. Not being able to train with the team during practice makes it laughably easy but also leaves me with nothing but my thoughts and my new favorite hydration method.
It's Wednesday evening. I'm sitting on my bed in the dark, a show playing on my laptop that I have zero interest in and a beer in hand. I close my eyes and lean my head back onto the one new pillow I purchased when the noise level in the house rises. God, I hope Kai is not throwing another party. I avoided the last one by escaping down the stairs to the garage and sleeping in my car—in front of King's place. Why? I refuse to analyze that. According to Kai, she's gone. No one has seen her.
Suddenly, my door flies open, and I blink against the light coming from the hallway. When my vision adjusts, I lock eyes with a tall female figure with dark, long, perfectly curled hair. She stares down at me with so much disdain that I hold my breath, waiting for her to rip me a new one.
I forgot to pick up my best friend from the airport.
Den folds her arms over her chest, making her tits push up in the top that is not Montana appropriate for the season, and I cock an eyebrow.
"If you so much as think about my breasts right now, Sheats, I'm going to shove my brand-new winter boot so far up your ass, you can admire the handmade details with your inner eye."
She delivers this with such a straight face that I can't keep it together. D props her hands on her hips, which makes it even worse. I can't stop the laughter, and within a few minutes, I'm wheezing. Den watches me from her spot, and when I regain control, I find myself smiling for the first time in weeks. My chest feels like a heavy weight has lifted off it, and I'm…almost happy.
I push myself up and walk over, wrapping my arms around her. "I'm sorry I didn't come to get you, D." I press my nose in her hair and inhale deeply. The signature scent of her black-bottled shampoo that costs more than my annual supply of hygiene products registers in my nose, and my body relaxes.
My best friend is here.
She returns the hug, and I tighten my hold. "I missed you, D." I didn't realize how lonely I felt until now.
She pulls back and frowns at me. "What's going on, Wes?"
Kai, who'd been lingering in the door, closes it after he gives me a brief nod. I guess I do owe the guy an apology for everything I've put him through.
I take Den's hand and lead her back to the bed, where we both settle against the headboard.
She waits patiently while I sort through my thoughts. I don't know how much I want to tell her, but at the same time, there is no question that I need to confide in someone. She is the only person that would truly understand.
"King—" My throat closes up, and I rub my hands over my face, digging my fingers into my hair. "Fuck!"
A hand lands on my thigh. "Talk to me." Den knows me too well, and she won't judge.
I wrap my arms around my midsection and turn my head to her. "King wasn't who I thought she was."
"What does that mean?" Her tone is hesitant, and after everything we've been through together, it's understandable.
"I fell for her, D. Hard," I confess, and my heart rate picks up. I admitted it as much for myself as I wanted to tell someone else.
Den's brows shoot to her hairline. "So why are you not with her?"
I draw in a deep breath, my pulse now so fast that it's almost painful. "Because she is Francis Turner's daughter."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The passing landscape has long begun to blur together. At first, the constant stream of tears impaired my vision. After that, it was simple disinterest. I didn't give a fuck where I ended up. I turned my phone off hours ago when Mags wouldn't stop calling.
I guess she found my note.
After Wes walked away and my world fell apart, I broke down right there.
Grizz found me hunched over and bawling hysterically next to a fist-size hole in the wall. He didn't ask questions, only nodded at my best friend, who stood helplessly beside me. Since I didn't have a car there and Mags was busy, Kiwi texted her that I had taken off. That gave me at least three hours.
My best friend watched me run through the apartment in an attempt to find all my belongings.
He pleaded with me not to do it. "You don't need to run. Has Francis said anything? Why can't you stay?"
Kiwi still called my father by his given name—the name we knew him by before he had died.
His car had gone through a side rail and crashed off a cliff on the Pacific Coast Highway when I was a child. My father was dead—at least, that was what the police officer had told my mother. What no one knew was that it was all a lie. He had faked his death—and for what?
I had no idea what to call the man who came back into my life a week after I buried my mom—by myself. He was neither my father nor Francis Turner to me, which was probably why I used his childhood nickname after the shock wore off: Gray.
I heard him men
tion it to Mom here and there, yet she was not allowed to use it. The first time I addressed him as Gray, he was livid. Thankfully, I was also pissed enough to hold my own. He had abandoned my mother—his wife—and his daughters for over a decade then leaned against my car in The Pole's parking lot like he used to when he came to pick me up from school. I lost it. I had been reliving my mother's last moments over and over in my head while I danced naked in front of middle-aged men for hours, hoping for enough tips to be able to pay the hospital bills eventually. How dare he show up like this. I punched him and cursed him out while tears streamed down my cheeks. He took it all—until I called him Gray.
His eyes had narrowed to slits, and he seethed, "Don't ever call me that again. Ever."
"Oh, yeah? Gray." I had propped my hands on my hips, eyeing him with a what-are-you-going-to-do look.
He had grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. "NEVER, Kingsley! That's who they turned me into. Gray was never your father. I was. Am."
His reaction scared me, but not enough to back down. He had left us. I yelled until my voice gave out, hurled everything we went through because of his selfish actions at him. When his shoulders sank, I had won. But the victory didn't make it better. I was tired. At eighteen years old, I was exhausted from life.
That day, he became Gray to me. Gray may have never been my father, but neither had the man in front of me.
I stopped stuffing my belongings into the duffel I had arrived with so many months ago and met Kiwi's eyes. "I can't stay here. Wes and I are over. We should've never started. I made a mistake. He knows who I am and what I've done. He thinks I betrayed him!" My words got louder toward the end, and I swallowed over the rock clogging my throat.
I would never betray Weston Sheats, but he doesn't know that.
"But you didn't!" Kiwi threw his arms up.
I let myself drop onto the mattress and covered my face with my hands. "You know that, and I know that. But no one will ever believe me." It came out mostly mumbled, but Kiwi understood, nonetheless.
Fingers wrapped around my wrists and pulled until I was forced to look at him. "Eventually, he has to listen." He tried to sound convincing, but we both knew Wes didn't have to listen to anything I had to say. I lost him the second he stepped out into that parking lot.
I sighed, and Kiwi held my gaze as I said, "No, he doesn't. What if he calls Lilly and Rhys? They could try to use me to get to Gray. I can't do that to our—" My eyes widened, and I cut myself off. This was the one secret my best friend was not aware of. I didn't get to tell Wes. There was no way I would reveal it—the baby—to Kiwi before its father found out.
"Then let me come with—"
"NO!" I jumped up and made him fall on his ass in the process. My outburst was louder than I intended, and I cringed. "I'm sorry, but…no."
"We said we'd always…" He peered up at me, and his plea was not just in his tone and words but carved onto his face. The only time Kiwi and I were not together was when I was on the move. I refused to tell him my location in case I got arrested.
"I'm not letting you give up your life. You have a job, one that makes actual money and you're good at. You have a boyfriend. I'm not allowing you to g-give th-that u-up." My speech ended in hiccuped sobs.
Fuck, I didn't want to break down again.
Kiwi stood up and drew me close. Clinging to his shirt, I buried my nose in his chest.
We were still in the same position when a new voice broke through the silence. "It's time to go, baby girl."
I jerked away from Kiwi and stared at the man hovering in my doorway. "How did you get in here?"
He slanted his head—stupid question.
Kiwi's eyes bulged in shock. "You're going with him?"
I ignored him and focused back on my bag. How could my life fit into one duffel bag?
Echo chose that moment to stride into my room and clumsily jumped on the bed. She had gotten a lot better over the last week, but she was still recovering. Her tongue hung out, and she tilted her head, looking at me expectantly. Crap. Echo. Fresh tears pooled in my eyes. I didn't want to leave my dog behind, but I had no idea where I'd be ending up. She still required regular checkups. Her stitches were being removed in a few days, and—
Kiwi must've read my mind because he propped one knee on the mattress, scratching Echo behind the ear. "Mags and I will take care of her until you can get her. Or I'll bring her to you."
It was obvious what he was doing. He wanted me to confirm that I would tell him where I was. I nodded and zipped up my life. Bending down to be on the same level with Echo, I placed a kiss on her head.
I was losing everyone I cared about tonight.
"Be good for Kiwi, baby. I'll see you again soon." I hoped. Straightening, I threaded my fingers through Kiwi's. "I'll call you as soon as I'm settled."
"Kingsley!" Gray barked, and my shoulders stiffened.
"I'm coming, Gray," I emphasized his name, and I heard a low growl behind me. It still pissed him off, but I didn't give a shit.
I took one last look at them and followed my father out of the house and to my Jeep. He automatically went to the driver's side, leaving me standing several feet from my car. He didn't turn, and simply said, "You are in no condition to drive."
Jolting awake, I'm frantically glancing around. Where the fuck am I? Then, I see who is in the driver's seat of my Jeep—the Jeep he gave me years ago after he somehow found out that Mom's ancient car had broken down. I never questioned him how he knew, but I'm starting to gather that he's always been around.
Yesterday comes flooding back. The pregnancy test, my performance at The Grizz, the lightness I felt looking into Wes's eyes. How the visible affection eased the knot in my stomach, knowing that telling him about the baby would be the right thing. I trusted Wes with my heart. Then, he came back.
I peer at Gray—my father. "Where are we?" My throat is dry, and I start coughing.
Gray hands me a bottle of water from the console without averting his eyes from the road. "Almost at the Arizona border. You fell asleep before we hit Utah, and I had to get some shut-eye as well. Otherwise, we'd be farther by now." After a pause, he amends, "It's been a long day."
"No shit," I mumble, and Wes's face appears in my mind. I had never seen him look like that. Everything from betrayal to hurt to hatred flashed across his features. There was no way he would ever have listened to me.
A stabbing pain in my chest makes me press my palm to it—right above my heart—and I wince. My surroundings become blurry, and I cover my mouth with my other hand.
I lost him.
Gray jerks the car over to the side of the highway and comes to a screeching stop. "What's wrong, baby girl?"
I'm unable to respond. The cries rack through my body, and I wrap my arms around my stomach where I am carrying…our baby. My baby. Wes won't want anything to do with the grandchild of the man who almost murdered his friend.
A hand lands awkwardly on my shoulder. "Kingsley." Gray's tone is soft, the same way my dad used to talk to me when I was a little girl, and it's my undoing. I try to get away from his touch, but he holds me in place until I surrender. What will happen to me—to my baby? I shift in my seat and cling to my father, crying for everything he took from me when he left and the hope I lost when I buried my mom. I found friendship and love in Stonebriar—something I never expected to experience. Last night, it all got ripped out from under me when the reality of my life—of who I am—stepped out of the dark. The dark has overshadowed the light all my life, and just when I thought I'd escaped the shadows, it snuffed out my chance at happiness for good. Because of the dark, I am on my own once again.
"Why?" I sound hysterical as I fist his leather jacket in my hands. Pulling back, I make sure his focus is on me. "Why did you do this to me? To Mom?"
Gray turns his gaze out the windshield. "I made a lot of mistakes in my life."
His answer is void of emotion, yet the remorse as he studies me contradicts his tone.
Somewhat in control, I settle back in my seat. "Are you clean?" I scan him up and down. I noticed last night that he looked different, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was.
"Haven't touched anything since you called me."
My forehead wrinkles. "What changed?" I ask softly. This talk, the importance of this moment, is not lost on me. I have not spoken to my father since I was seven years old—not truly spoken to him.
He draws in a long breath and exhales slowly. "When I answered the phone that night, I was already on my way to you."
My heart stutters, realizing what that means. He knew I had killed E. How? I don't dare to interrupt him.
"Vic filled me in."
"VIC?" the name bursts from my lips, and I clamp my mouth shut. So much for not interrupting.
Gray nods. "He worked for me."
What the—?
He holds up a hand to stop me before I can start my interrogation. "When you started at The Pole, I paid Vic to watch over you. He'd been Ellis's guard dog for years. I made him mine." A sinister grin I've seen many times turns the corners of his mouth up. "He was the perfect choice. E had a reputation for how he broke in his dancers and kept them under control. There was no fucking way I'd risk him raping my daughter. He was a disgusting motherfucker. I admit I was quite impressed when Vic recalled what you'd done."
I scowl at the man in front of me, and he smirks.
"You look like Stephanie right now. She used to have the same frown."
Hearing my mother's name on his lips makes white-hot rage surge in the pit of my stomach, and my sorrow is replaced by something else. I welcome the shift and let it spread through every cell. Anything is better than the misery of losing the love of my life.
"Don't you dare speak her name! You don't deserve to—"
"I know." Those two words are like a punch to the gut. I'm getting whiplash between the man who used to be my father and loving husband to my mother and the criminal drug addict who abandoned us and did unforgivable things.