by Zoë Lane
“What happened?”
“We went out tonight.”
I groaned.
“I know. He was adamant. Pissed, actually. Are you two…” Cas eyed me curiously—or more accusatory.
“No!”
“Well, I think he’s mad at you, or maybe because you’re on a date with another guy.”
I laughed nervously. “Landyn doesn’t like me all that much. I don’t want to sound egotistical or anything—”
“Yeah, he does want to sleep with you, and not because that’s kind of Landyn’s thing.”
I put a hand on his arm to halt our steps. “I think you’re mistaken,” I said in a low voice, hoping no one else was around to hear our conversation.
Cas leaned forward. “About you? No, I’m not. I’m his best friend. He enjoys girls, sure, but he likes you.” He angled his head toward a door at the end of the hall. “He’s in his room. There’s a lot going on in that head of his. If you can figure it out, it’ll help him get focused for Thursday.”
I nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I entered the room. The recessed lights above the bed were on, and Landyn lay sprawled across it on his back, with an arm covering his eyes. “Landyn? It’s Rose.”
“How was your date?” he grumbled.
“It ended early because of you.”
He snickered. “You didn’t have to leave him.” Landyn propped up on one elbow and peered at me. “Admit it. You wanted to see me.”
“Not like this.”
His brows rose innocently. “Like what?” He looked down at his bare chest. “You don’t like naked men?”
“I like naked men fine—”
“Good, because I want out of these jeans.” He fumbled with the button and then unzipped.
“Do me a favor and keep those on, thank you.”
“What do you want?” he moaned and fell back.
I walked toward the bed and set my purse down on the floor. I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, keeping my distance. He reeked of booze and something tropical. Probably women’s perfume.
“You texted me. Said some things about—”
“I almost slept with someone tonight.”
His voice sounded heavy as a rock. My insides went cold and I fought hard not to shiver. “Oh…I see.”
“No, you don’t.”
“It’s kind of your thing, right? Sleeping around.”
He made a sound of frustration and sat up quickly, catching himself on the bed. “Can’t do that again.” He held the side of his head.
“And drinking a lot as well.”
“Don’t!” He pointed a finger at me, his eyes burning. “I’m not him. I’m not a drunk.”
Not who? I barely heard my own voice. “I…I never said you were.”
“I’m not Carter,” he said emphatically.
“Your father.”
“I hate that man.”
“Landyn—”
“He was the one that drove my mother away. I didn’t tell you. He beat her until she left. Then he beat us.” He closed his eyes and breathed heavily as if fighting emotion forcing its way to the surface. “I made my sister hide so he wouldn’t find her, and he’d hit me instead. Couldn’t leave…”
I whispered, “Oh, Landyn…” I didn’t have any words. I edged closer to him.
How long had they been beaten? Their entire childhoods? Why hadn’t anyone noticed? How could Carter not have been charged with abuse? He’s avoided justice all this time!
“She was so small…terrified.”
I held his hand, rubbing my thumb over rough knuckles. “You both were, I imagine.”
“The day I left for college was the happiest day of my life. Lacey was staying with the Talismans and I was free. Playing football, winning championships. Now this entire organization is on my shoulders. You think I don’t understand… I’m not the only one who gets it. Carter is trying to force his way into mine and my sister’s life.” He opened his eyes again, now red with moisture. “I can’t do it all, Rose. I used to be able to protect her when I didn’t have anything to worry about other than school, but now…”
He meant Lacey. “She’s not in any danger, Landyn. She’s here and she’s safe. I couldn’t find anything in Carter’s recent background to suggest he needs money. His wife is loaded.”
“She wants to know him!” he shouted. “She doesn’t even remember the beatings. The time he knocked her against the wall so hard she blacked out. She doesn’t remember!” He stood on unsteady feet, and I went to help him, but he shoved my hands away. “I’m too dizzy to stand.” He landed heavily on the bed. “I don’t think his wife knows.” His gaze burned into mine. “How could a woman marry a man knowing he beat his wife and kids? Knowing he doesn’t have a relationship with them because he was an alcoholic with a temper? Could you get past that?”
I shook my head. I sat next to him now and drew his head down to my shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my body. “I’ll fix it for you, Landyn. He won’t interfere.”
“Are you going to kill him? That’s probably the best option.”
I laughed softly. “Pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“Pretty sure a jury wouldn’t convict you if you did, knowing the life he’s led.”
“True, but there are other ways to handle this.”
“He wants money. That’s the only reason why he’s contacting us now. He doesn’t care about me or Lacey. Never did.”
“He won’t get your money.”
His voice went soft, his eyes imploring. “It didn’t mean anything.”
I didn’t have to ask. The girl he’d almost slept with tonight.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Frustrated. Over Lacey, Carter…you…”
“Not the way to handle it,” I rebuked him gently.
“I know.”
My eyes stung and I blinked them rapidly. I hadn’t had time to process what him having sex with some random girl meant to me, especially when he had wanted the same from me the other day.
I wouldn’t have meant anything either.
That’s why my eyes burned.
It was how he handled stress, but…being with him…I knew I would’ve connected with him on a deeper level, but I would’ve been there all by myself.
“I’m sorry about your date.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. I could be kissing Bryan right now, instead of having the lips of the man I had wanted spewing alcohol breath all over me. This couldn’t be the job. I was doing more than my part.
Landyn raised his head and looked me in the eyes. “I’m going to wait.”
“For what?”
“You.”
“You mean…”
He laughed and fell back. “I’m not a virgin.” He let out a giant sigh. “Going to wait until after game one.”
I sputtered my own shocked laugh. “You think you can have me then?”
“I wouldn’t be your client anymore, right? No more being professional,” he said in a mocking tone.
“Well, I don’t do casual.” I stood and grabbed one of his legs and flung it on the bed, and then the other.
“No… I will have to bring my A-game.” He grinned sloppily at me.
“More than that.”
“I don’t even know what an A-game looks like. Never had to do that much.”
“Lucky you.”
His face dropped. “No. I had a coach tell me winning is best when you have to fight hard. When it comes easy, it’s not worth as much. I like to fight, Rose.”
I stared at him, watching the hoods of his eyes become heavy. Within a minute he was lightly snoring.
If he wanted me, he knew he’d have to fight to have me. Except tonight, he had nearly taken the easy win; it was that type of man I couldn’t respect, and why I’d never liked him to begin with.
And why I was so glad I hadn’t followed him into the massage room.
I picked up my purse, turned off the lights, and exited the room.
&nb
sp; CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LANDYN
I don’t think there’s anything better in the world than waking up to the smell of bacon cooking on the stove, and the buttery scent of pancakes. I’d never experienced anything like that until I had stayed with Casper’s family for holidays while in college. Mother wasn’t much of a cook, and Carter never lifted a spatula for anyone.
Carmencita was going get a raise.
I yawned and stretched my arms over my head, cursing as I hit my knuckles on the headboard. I rose slowly, hoping to avoid the inevitable headache I got when I’d drunk too much the night before. Now I understood why Carter had gotten even angrier the morning after a bender. It made the whole experience not worth it.
Squinting, I saw myself in a mirror on the wall and sucked in a breath. I didn’t see myself. I saw a man with a haggard expression, only I had way more hair and a jawline that didn’t need a goatee accent.
I saw Carter Gallagher.
I moaned and dropped my face into a pillow. I’ve got to stop drinking. I think I’ve had my fun, and it really wasn’t. When my eyes didn’t feel any more pain, I prodded over to the bathroom for a shower. Couldn’t keep bacon waiting.
One whole day. That would be plenty of time to get over the embarrassment of practically crying on Rose’s shoulder about my father before I saw her again. I needed my dignity intact. Good thing we had practice this afternoon and then meetings for the rest of the day. Enough distractions to keep me focused on anything but her.
After showering, I slipped on a white t-shirt and sweatpants before jogging to the kitchen. Carmencita no estaba aquí. My little mouse had on an apron and was stacking pancakes high on a plate.
“Good morning,” she said with her back to me. “I hope you slept well.”
“What are you—”
“What am I doing here? I couldn’t let you go on any midnight runs to the club if you woke up with a second wind.”
I grinned at her, even though she couldn’t see it. I loved how confident she was becoming. A real take-charge attitude that I had when on the field. “And you think you could’ve stopped me.”
She turned with a spatula in one hand that could’ve easily been a knife by the way her narrowed eyes pinned me to the refrigerator I stood in front of. “Oh, absolutely.”
Man, did I want her to stop me. I put my hands up. “I believe you. Where’s Carmencita? Why isn’t she cooking?”
“I gave her the morning off. Said you and I had a business meeting and couldn’t be disturbed.”
If she didn’t look so pissed, I would’ve guessed a double meaning. She roughly scraped eggs from the pan onto my plate before tossing some bacon on top. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked as casually as I could.
“I want you to know that I took it easy on you last night.”
I figured.
“After what you had said about…your childhood. Yours and Lacey’s.” She glanced down, distressed lines deepening around her mouth and thinning out her cheeks. “Wasn’t the right time.”
Confident, empathetic, sympathetic. This woman…amazing.
Her gaze wavered as it landed on me. “It’s not going to be that way anymore,” she said softly.
If she had said it sternly, I don’t think my stomach could’ve churned with any more guilt. “Right.”
“I know I’m on call 24/7, but this isn’t exactly the job.”
“Thank you for cooking. I appreciate it,” I hurried to say. She was right, though; it wasn’t her job.
“I mean last night. You being drunk and needing someone to talk to. I understand that we’ll have to do something preemptive regarding your father—which I spent most of the night working on—but everything else…you and”—she struggled for words—“how you spend your evenings. Even your sister failing school. I don’t mean to be harsh, but I didn’t need to know those things at that time.”
“You mean during your date.”
She gave a stiff nod. “Exactly. Earlier, during any of our meetings. That’s when I should’ve been told. I’ll talk to your sister and see exactly what her situation is. I couldn’t get a word out of Nico about it—”
I put a hand up. “Wait a minute. What do you mean, Nico?”
“You didn’t know he was here?”
“All night?” I nearly yelled.
“No. Only for about an hour or two after you fell asleep. He told me she seemed to be better and that she was going to bed, and he left.”
“Better because of him or—”
“I don’t know.”
I barely knew Nico—except for what he was capable of on the field—but if he was thinking he could try anything with my sister, then he was going to be disappointed, because she was off-limits—to any and all players.
Especially Nico.
He had a reputation in the locker room that could rival mine, except he didn’t have the unfortunate issue I did. Plus, he didn’t have as much of a penchant for clubs as I’d thought he did. Where did he meet women?
Rose handed me a plate full of perfectly golden-brown pancakes, lots of bacon and a heaping pile of eggs. She looked so cute in my “Kiss the Cook” apron that I almost obeyed.
If she didn’t still look all sorts of pissed off at me…
I mumbled a humble thank-you and hopped onto one of the island stools.
“Do you want syrup?”
“Yes, please,” I answered.
She opened the microwave and produced a bottle.
Hot syrup.
She had thought to heat it up.
I could marry her.
It really was about the simple things for me. “Thank you.”
She undid the apron. “I want your word that I won’t have to deal with any more crisis moments before game one.”
I nodded, chewing on pancakes.
“Good. I have a plan about your father. He’s married, like you said, and she’s a counselor.”
“Probably his.”
“Probably. My plan requires you opening up to the public about your abuse.”
“What!”
“When we go to the children’s hospital tomorrow, I’ll have some local news crews there to cover the event. You can talk about what it means to protect children—especially the most vulnerable. Call out your dad for what he did to you and your sister. Be living proof that you can rise above some of the worst circumstances.”
I looked down at my plate of half-eaten pancakes, bacon, and eggs. My stomach hardened, and it hurt a little that I wouldn’t be finishing one of the best breakfasts I’d had in a long time. No offense, Carmencita.
Why did she do this to me? Making the varsity football team as a freshman in high school and becoming the starting quarterback had been one of the toughest years of my life—not counting the beatings I’d had to endure from my father. I had always loved the game and seen it as an opportunity to get out. All I had to do was make the team, get a college scholarship, and move away.
Then score really well at Combine, get drafted into the NFL and never see him again. Have enough money to take care of my sister. When we met the Talismans, they’d taken some of the pressure off by becoming Lacey’s guardian while I was at college, which only meant I’d pay them back.
I’d worked harder than I ever had at understanding the game and keeping my grades up so I wouldn’t be cut from the team. And I had to work a part-time job to pay for the uniforms and the expenses that came with traveling with the team. A lot of that money went to buying clothes for my sister, since my father couldn’t be bothered shopping for a growing girl who needed bras and pads.
Every decision I made had to be weighed against my future and whether or not I was making the right choice. I never let up. One Heisman wasn’t enough. I had to have two—that would be remembered by NFL scouts. A third would cement me as an all-time collegiate player and number one in the NFL first-round draft pick. I’d be paid top salary. Forget what RGIII made. Mine and my sister’s life would be set.
Rose reached over the island with a fork and stole a few pieces of syrup-drenched pancakes off my plate. I cocked a brow at her. She shrugged. “I’m hungry,” she said around the pancakes. “And I’m the cook.”
“You are, and I owe you a kiss.”
Her eyes widened a bit before she rolled them. “The apron.”
“Yup.”
“Nope.” She grabbed her purse from the island.
I laughed. “You’re not getting away that easily.”
“I’m not running.”
“Oh? So you want me to kiss you.” I jumped off the stool, ready to fulfill my duty.
“No. I have to leave. I need sleep, and I’m sure my office is going to want to call me in for an update.” She moved out of the kitchen and I followed. “You got the dishes. Carmencita probably won’t be back for a few hours. Don’t be a jerk and leave them all in the sink.”
“I’d never.” Actually I would, because why hire someone to clean your house if you’re going to do it all yourself?
“Goodbye, Landyn.” She reached for the doorknob. I caught her other arm and whirled her back into mine. “Please, don’t,” she said softly, no fight in her voice.
“You don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“I could guess.”
I wove my fingers together at the very lowest part of her back. “Rose, let me thank you.”
“For the food? Don’t worry about it. I love to cook.”
“It’s more than that.”
“I shouldn’t be.”
“But it is. We can stand here all day arguing, or you can let me kiss you and then you can leave.”
“I get no say in the matter?”
“Well…I hope you’d say my name.”
She grunted and twisted in my arms. I held her fast to me. “You are more than just a crisis manager to me.”
“I wasn’t last night.”
That stung. “I deserved that.”
“And I don’t deserve this, so please let me go.”