by Lynn Rider
“Mia Hall. Thank you.”
“Let me have your keys,” he says, standing. I pick up the keys I’d dropped when I first sank to the ground and hold them up to him. “You have a spare?” he asks, walking toward the trunk.
I groan again. “Yes, but it’s already on the car. I had a blow out a few weeks ago and put it on the other side.” I drop my head back, beating it against the cold metal door.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.” He extends his hand and the apprehension returns. It’s one thing to talk to him in a public parking lot, but it’s another to get in his car and let him drive me to a remote area where he can torture and murder me. “I won’t hurt you.”
I stand up without his assistance, brushing off the dirt from my coat while I debate whether to go with him or wait it out for Brittany to finish her shift. He’s a pro boxer. Brittany’s words come back to mind at the same time the cold air swirls around, blowing up my long coat. I’d be frozen before she got off. “I promise,” he adds.
“Okay, but for the record, I bet you’re not the only serial killer to mutter those words,” I reply, following his chuckle into the darkness.
13
Chance
“Edward, it’s been another week and we’ve heard nothing. I don’t even have visitation rights!” I yell into the phone.
“Calm down, Chance. I called the clerk’s office this morning and I was assured that it’ll be looked into today.”
I sink back into Vic’s old office chair, blowing out a heavy breath as I find my calm. “It’s killing me, Edward. Can’t we just go to her and find out what in the hell she wants? She doesn’t want those boys; she wants what they’ll do for her.”
“As far I’m aware, she hasn’t hired counsel. That’s a good sign. She may not put up much of a fight, but it’s still not wise to approach her. We don’t want to irritate her on the heels of filing our own motion against her. We have to wait these things out. They take time.”
“Meanwhile, Matt and Brandon suffer. She didn’t even cook dinner last night. Matt said they had chips. And she’s leaving them at night while she goes out.”
“I’m working on it, Chance. You need to stay calm and have the boys do the same. We’re doing everything we can to get them out of there.”
Vic steps into his office. His expression isn’t any happier than the one I feel on my own face. “All right. Call me the minute you find out anything,” I say before disconnecting the call.
Vic leans over to the desk, picking up a thick white envelope and tossing it my way.
“That came for you yesterday. That’s why I was looking for you last night, but you were topping my shit list after I found you in that bar.”
I wedge my finger under the flap, break the seal, and slide the paperwork out. I immediately see the logo and a smile covers my face. “Well?” Vic asks, but his tone tells me he already knows what it is. He’s my trainer, agent, manager and all the other fancy shit I don’t technically have. He doesn’t look quite as pissed off, but the scowl is still holding.
“You knew this was coming?”
“I had an idea that if you won in Atlantic City, you’d be hearing from them. Someone called me several weeks before the fight. The Chaos brand wants the best promoting their clothing line. You are the best.”
“Holy shit,” I whisper looking at the dollar amount for this endorsement deal. I hear Vic chuckle, but I keep reading. For a long time, I made more on endorsements than I did on my actual fights. That changed when I won my third title last year, but this is a two-year contract with one of the best performance clothing lines out there. By far, it’s the largest offer I’ve been made to date.
“That’s only the beginning, Chance. They see what I see in you. That’s why it pisses me off to find you in some shabby shithole like the one you were in last night, and even more to ask you if you’ve been on that damned social media site all you young people use?” There’s something about his tone telling me it’s not a question, but a command. I take the hint and launch the app on my phone.
“What’s got you in a twist?”
“Was that Edward?” he asks, ignoring my question.
“Yeah, still nothing. He says he made another phone call today and should know something later.” I sigh, looking down at my phone.
“Search your name. You were tagged in a picture last night.” My brow line pinches wondering how a man who doesn’t own a computer, a smart phone…hell even a cell phone, knows that I was tagged in a photo on a hipster website.
“How do you—”
“Just do it, Chance!” he commands, angrily.
When the picture comes up, a protective rage sweeps over me—similar to the one I felt several times last night, but this time, I’m not going to push it aside. I want to hunt down and punch the fuck out of the person responsible for this picture. My eyes glance down to the source of the original post. Bryson Maguire, you will be hearing from my attorney.
“Who is she?” Vic asks, his tone still unhappy.
“Mia Hall,” I mutter, studying the picture. Her face is blank of any expression, but she’s still fucking beautiful all the same. She stands, covering herself with her own hands. The bright blue top that I picked up on my way to pull her off that stage dangles from my fingers, while my arms are draped around her shoulders. It was taken seconds before I led her behind the curtain and away from the gawkers to her panic attack. I never thought about phones. Luckily for her, her tits are covered and because it’s a front shot, the fabric of her g-string covers her as much as any bathing suit made for public wear would.
“Goddamn it, Chance. This is exactly what I was trying to tell you last night. You can’t have shit like this painting an ugly picture. I told you…two rounds and you haven’t even won the first round yet! You have to not only prove her unfit, but you have to be fit for those boys.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Does that look like a man who’s fit to raise two boys?” He points to the phone in my hand.
“She’s a nice girl!” I retort, the memory of our conversation last night coming back to me. Despite her initial fear, there was an underlying sense of strength that shone through, even in the dark.
Mia isn’t a woman who fills silence with mindless chatter, like a lot of women, so we found ourselves in near silence on the way to her place. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to talk. I wanted to help her—not just off that stage, or in that dark alley—but in general, I wanted to hear all about her problems so I could erase every damned one of them.
“Oh, I bet she’s a real catch. Anything like that little blonde waitress that was slithering up to you like a snake when I walked in?”
“Vic, you got this wrong. That girl isn’t like the others.”
“Oh, that’s original. You can’t associate yourself with someone like her.”
“Who I associate myself with is my damned business. You better remember that!” I threaten and Vic winces, bringing instant regret. I scrub my hands over my face and sigh. “I’m sorry.” Vic is like a father to me, the last thing I need to do is fracture that bond over some stranger. My eyes dip to the picture. Calling her a stranger is leaving a sour taste in my mouth. What is it about her?
“Does she mean anything to you?” he asks.
I recall the attraction that I felt that first night. It was what brought me back last night and then this morning, it took everything in me to not get out of the truck when Smith returned her car. Instead of acting on it, I sat hidden behind the dark tinted glass and watched as surprise covered her pretty face when Smith dumped the single car key I’d swiped from her ring last night into her hand. I’d never seen her clean-faced. I knew she had to be beautiful under all that makeup, but this morning, seeing her natural for the first time, it nearly knocked the wind out of me.
Her eyes peered around Smith, examining her car to see if what he had said were true. Then she fixed her gaze on the dark windows of my SUV. Seeing me without seeing me, I knew I was a goner.
“No, not really,” I lie.
“Which is it? No or not really, because there was a pause there and even the way you said it, there’s a very real difference.” His lips tighten with a frown.
“Some creepy ass guy stepped up to the side of the stage and when she saw him, it threw her into a full-blown panic attack. She froze and no one from the club was coming to help her.”
“Who was the guy?” Vic demands, a reminder he has zero tolerance for the mistreatment of women.
I shake my head, regret consuming me that I didn’t find the mother fucker. After I safely delivered her to Brittany and got rid of Gigi, I’d searched the bar, in and out, but he was gone. “I have no idea. I didn’t get a good look at him. He only caught my eye because he didn’t take off his coat or hat when he was inside. It may not have even been him that set her off.” Even with her increased confidence, I could tell she still wasn’t comfortable up there.
“Probably her dealer or pimp, Chance. I love the idea of you settling down and finding someone good that you can love and will love you back…shit it would probably even help with getting custody of the boys, but you don’t need a girl like that in your life,” he says pointing to my phone.
I nod at Vic, understanding loud and clear.
Only not the point he was trying to make.
14
Mia
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Mia.” The insincerity in Audrey’s tone tells me what she is saying is ‘I told you so’. I should have known better than to call her. She’s all I have, but deep down, as I was dialing my Aunt Donna’s farm, I knew she wouldn’t have any answers. She’s too wrapped up in her own world, so having empathy for another human being is something Audrey is incapable of.
“Audrey, Jimmy fired me. I have $713 of Paul’s next payment and have eight days to earn the rest.”
“I heard you the first time, Mia. I don’t know why you didn’t just let me stay and work something out. I—”
“Stay? Because we would owe him thirty thousand by now, Audrey! Jesus, are you that stupid that you don’t understand the hold he had on you? He was feeding you with enough drugs to keep you dependent on him!” I sigh, kneading the skin at my temples. “Audrey, I’m not going to have his money. What is Paul capable of?” I ask calmly, holding back the tears that have been threatening all morning.
“He’s capable of bad shit, Mia.” Her voice is low with an underlying hint of fear. It’s the first time I’ve heard something real from her since the night in the alley when she sounded genuinely sorry for putting me in this position. It’s this tone that I always find strength to figure something out, because after all the shit…she’s still my little sister. The one who used to drive me crazy, steal my clothes, insist on tagging along with me and copying everything I did…just to be more like me. If only I hadn’t fought it so much.
“Will he kill me?” My voice cracks and tears sting the sides of my eyes. Reality almost cripples me into another panic attack.
“He never told me what he did. I only know he comes from a line of bad people. I got the impression his entire family is in it.”
“Like the mafia?” My heartbeat skyrockets, the beat of its thump sounding in my ears.
“I don’t know…maybe. I thought him having so much power was hot, so I never questioned it.”
“Are you being serious right now? I’m worried for my life and you’re telling me how hot the man is that will ultimately murder me because I don’t have the money you owe him!” I sink against my small couch, exasperated with her fucking ridiculous logic.
Maybe I should have told Jimmy how desperate I was for that job. How deep Audrey was in and that my intentions weren’t to become a full-time dancer, but to fix her mess. Maybe then he would have taken pity on me and sent me right back out there. And do what Mia…make another twenty-eight dollars? A tear falls and I quickly wipe it away.
“I was telling you why I never questioned it Mia. Fuck, why are you always so judgmental of everything I have to say?”
“Because I’ve got to figure out a way to clean up your mess! Paul walked into that club last night and scared me so much I couldn’t keep it together long enough to run off the stage before the panic set in. My car sits in my driveway with four new tires, so now I owe Chance McKnight, too. I’ve sold everything in my house with any value and you’re telling me the man behind all my stress is HOT!”
“Chance McKnight…what does he have to do with this?”
Jesus, that’s what she got out of that! I pinch the skin at the bridge of my nose and sigh. Closing my eyes, my mind drifts over the memory of Chance. He was nice. Not at all what I had envisioned when I used to overhear the gossip. Hearing a bunch of strippers cackle over him, I’d made him out to be a class A pig, but who I met last night was anything but.
“Mia, he’s your ticket! You need to get to closer to him to get to his bodyguard. Get the bodyguard to fall in love with you and Paul will never mess with you again.”
“Audrey…” I warn.
“It’s not like I’m asking you to fall in love with an ogre. Hell, you don’t even have to fall in love, just make sure he does. I don’t even know his name, but he’s the only guy I’ve ever seen put Paul in his place. It’s a bonus that he’s a big hot piece of man.”
I think back to this morning when that big hot piece of man delivered my car with four brand new tires. The knock came so early that I was still in bed and tried to hide, fearing it was Paul. When a deep voice loomed through the door telling me I didn’t have walls and he knew I was in here, I was certain Paul had sent someone to do his dirty work. Once the voice said Chance had sent him, I opened.
He was one of the biggest guys I’d ever seen. Bigger than Chance…and that’s saying a lot. He swiftly landed a single key in my hand, said ‘Mr. McKnight fixed your tires and hopes you have a better day’ and walked toward a dark SUV parked at the curb. The tinted windows were so dark, I wasn’t even sure Chance was in there, but I felt him. Our eyes connected, without connecting, I’m sure of it.
“Mia, are you listening?” I shake the memory away, realizing she was still talking.
“What did you say?”
“I’m saying, find Chance McKnight!”
“I can’t just walk up to the guy and make him fall in love with me,” I scoff.
“Yeah…you’re right. He’s hard to pin down from what I’ve heard. That Gigi chick had it bad for him; she may know how to get in touch with him and then you can find the bodyguard.”
We fall into a silence, Audrey scheming about a bodyguard I have no interest in and me wondering what it would feel like to be wrapped in the safety of Chance’s arms. Technically, I felt them last night, but there was so much fear and anxiety ricocheting through my body, I hardly remember it today. What would it feel like to be the one he opens them for unconditionally? To protect them…love them? These thoughts are ridiculous. He may have been a nice guy to me last night, but it doesn’t change the man everyone talked about in that dressing room.
“Audrey, I have to go to the dance studio. I’m going to give Martha my notice and pack up my car. If Aunt Donna lets both of us stay, maybe we can get jobs and start over in Texas.”
“What about St. Louis? I want to come back, Mia. I don’t like Texas.” This is Audrey’s usual whine, but I feel the weight of this one equally. St. Louis is where we were both born and raised. The old house we grew up in, the one I still drive by sometimes, the dance studio that was once our mother’s where I still work. Julia, my favorite student, who I dreamed of watching grow up and become the ballerina I never got to be. This isn’t only Audrey’s loss. All of that will be left behind for me, too.
“We’re out of options, Aud.”
I hugged Julia a little tighter and a little longer today, hiding my secret that this is probably goodbye. I didn’t have the heart to tell her father and didn’t think it was right considering I didn’t get to the studio in time to give my notice to
Martha, the owner. I only mentioned that I needed to talk to her about something before either one of us left for the day.
My last class is filing out and technically my day is over. Normally, I would be bolting out the door in order to get to my second job, but not today. Tonight, I have nowhere to be but at home, to pack up what is important.
I walk down the hallway toward Martha’s office with a knot in my stomach. Growing up, running up and down this very hall was as much a part of me as the blood running up and down my veins.
The door is open, just as it usually is, but I knock anyway.
Martha looks up, her green eyes softening as a smile takes over her elegant features. With her trim body and salt and pepper hair coiled tightly in a bun, she’s exactly what I envisioned my mother would look like at her age. A decade older than my own mother, being a retired ballerina, she had experiences that my mother could only dream of, so it was no wonder they became fast friends.
“Do you have time to talk?” I step into her office, trying my best to hide my apprehension.
“Of course. Do you want to close the door?”
I shake my head. “No,” I mumble, not wanting to feel closed in. Martha never closes her door, so the weight of that action alone may send me into a crying fit.
“I’m glad you wanted to talk. I’ve been meaning to ask if everything is all right, but you bolt out of here every night, in a rush to get somewhere. Are you okay?” Her eyes plot over my body as if looking for some outward evidence something is wrong. “You haven’t been yourself lately, Mia,” she adds.
“I’m moving,” I blurt out and her entire expression elevates in surprise.
“Oh? I was hoping that you were going to tell me you’d met someone special, not that you’re leaving us.”
Chance flashes through my mind and I’m pissed for allowing myself to get lost in a fantasy that included him and mad at Audrey for planting the seed that I need him.
“Audrey is already gone. She’s with Donna in Texas.”