by Alla Kar
“Weston followed us to our date and took Roxy home with him.”
Coach coughs into his hand and begins to choke. Weston rolls his eyes. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m with Roxy now and I don’t appreciate you calling her a bitch. And if you do it again I swear I’ll—,”
Coach shoots his arm out. “No name calling and no date crashing. Stay away from each other,” Coach says. “Blake, go get ready for the game and Weston put on your jersey. If this happens again you’re both on suspension.”
They both disappear and leave us alone. Once the door shuts Weston turns to me and cups my face. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine. Just pissed off. That was so fucking embarrassing. The entire football team saw.”
He hushes me and runs the pad of his thumb against my bottom lip. “Don’t worry about the football team. Did he hurt you?”
“No, he didn’t touch me.”
All the tension from his shoulders relaxes and he leans his head against mine. “Goddammit, when Dom came and got me I was—I wanted to murder him.” He sighs.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about Blake.”
The truth is, I’m really not worried about him. I’ve had way too many things happen to me and things to worry about. Blake’s temper tantrum is the least of my worries.
Weston kisses me gently and then nips at my bottom lip. “I’m not. I’d wipe the floor with his ass.”
And I don’t doubt it, even with a bum leg. I give him my best sexy smile and place my hands on the hard ridges of his stomach. Then I giggle. Weston lifts a brow. “And what in the hell is so funny?”
“I never thought Weston Garrison would be coming to my rescue on his big white horse.”
Weston drags his lips over mine and groans underneath his breath. “I’m no prince charming, baby.”
I press my hands against his stomach and lean my head back away from him. “And why not?”
He gives me a wicked grin. “Because bad boys don’t get the princess, baby,” he says, his voice gruff. Placing his hands on my hips he holsters me up and onto his waist. “But I never wanted one,” he whispers against my throat. “Because we both know you’re not a princess and there isn’t one thing in this goddamn world I want more than you.”
That’s the best damn answer I’ve ever gotten.
***
The bleachers are packed. Our band plays as the player’s warm-up on the field. I haven’t been to a football game in two years. Erica drug me to one my first semester here. The familiar homey feeling of a small-town football game sinks over me. The smells of concessions stand food. Bright lights. The band playing. Amazing bandstand music. Screaming fans. It’s a feeling that can’t be mimicked.
Weston has Maddox on his shoulders while Maddox waves a big blue foam finger in the air. A loud giggle catches my attention. The group of girls sitting diagonal from us are staring up at us. My neck turns hot and a lump begins to grow in my throat.
I feel Weston’s finger move my chin up. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
I lick my lips and nervously glance around. “Everyone is staring,” I whisper. Weston looks away from me and I see his eyes slowly roll over the stands. Each one of the rude asses whip their heads back around as soon as they make contact.
He lifts an eyebrow at a group of girls sitting diagonal from us and looks back at me. A blonde sneers my way and cups her hand around her mouth to talk. But before I can hide my face Weston grabs my chin and forces his mouth on mine.
It’s not as innocent as it should be in a stand full of people but the building pressure in my lower stomach makes me forget about everyone else.
“Ew,” Maddox yells. Weston bites my lower lip before pulling away. “It’s starting! It’s starting!” Maddox starts to bounce on Weston’s shoulders and Weston latches onto his legs to keep him from falling.
But he keeps his eyes on me. Even after the timer starts and the game begins. Both of those dark stormy eyes grope me with each second of eye contact. When the crowd starts to scream I turn my head toward the front.
The Muleriders aren’t playing any games. By halftime they’re leading 35 to 16.
“You want something to drink?”
I shake my head. “No thanks.”
With Maddox on his back, they make their way down the bleachers and toward the concession stand. The stadium lights zoom in on the cheerleaders who start their halftime dance.
The same giggles from before start in again and the blonde that sneered at me earlier stands up in the group of girls. “Ah, shit,” I whisper underneath my breath. She walks up the first few steps and taps me on the shoulder.
I glance over my shoulder and narrow my gaze. She looks oddly familiar. “Can I help you?” I ask.
Giving me a small smile she takes a seat beside me. “I’m Rebecca.”
“Okay.”
She tosses her hair over her shoulder and crosses her legs. “Are you and Weston,” she tries to hide her smile, “dating?”
She lifts both brows and purses her lips.
“And what if we are?”
She shrugs. “Oh, nothing. I just wouldn’t want you to get your hopes up with him. He’s not dating material.”
Grinding my molars together, I take a calming breath. “Why are you so worried about it then, Rebecca? If he isn’t worth the time, why come over here in a pathetic attempt to scare me away.”
“Listen,” she snaps, all the fake blonde bullshit flying out the window. “I don’t know what the fuck he is doing but it’s not him. And believe me, I know. Just give him a couple of weeks and he’ll be finished with this little game.” She waves her hand at me like I’m trash.
My vision is hinting red. If this is what The Hulk feels like then I feel fucking sorry for him. “Look, bitch,” I say. “I suggest you take your little debutant attending ass back over there to the bobble head clan before I kick it.”
Her eyes widen. “Don’t threaten me.”
“Don’t annoy me.”
She glares at me and then her eyes jerk upwards. “What are you doin’, Rebecca?” She quickly stands and gives Weston a small finger wave.
“Hey, darlin’,” she says. “I was just talking to—,” she trails off because obviously she doesn’t know my name.
“Roxy,” he finishes her sentence. “Why don’t you go sit down and leave us alone.”
Her face darkens to a deep shade of red. Her gaze flickers back and forth between the three of us before she turns and marches back down the bleachers.
The game buzzer rings loudly but I don’t glance at the game. I stare at my interlaced fingers in my lap. Weston sits Maddox on the other side of him and turns toward me.
“What did the fuckin’ viper say?”
Tears build in my eyes. Even though I know she was coming over here to try and scare me away, something inside of me twists and turns in my gut. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
He stares at me for a long while before turning back to the game. I watch the game like a zombie. As badly as I want to forget that stupid blonde bimbo, I can’t. That exact reason was my dilemma in the first place. I knew about Weston’s reputation from the beginning. I knew it then and I know it now. I shouldn’t let this get to me, but it cuts me to the core. And not for the reason I thought it would. But because I really care for him.
The crowd jumps up from the stands and throws their hands in the air. I guess we won. The scoreboard reads 45 to 25. Maddox taps me on the top of the head and I look up at him. “Momma. We won! We won!” He fists pumps into the air.
Weston stares down at me but doesn’t say anything.
We rode to the game with Weston so he drops us off. Before I can tell him goodnight he jumps out of the truck and comes in with us. Maddox is asleep in my arms.
Placing him in his bed, I tug off his shoes, jeans and shirt before tucking him in tight. Weston is leaning against the hallway wall watching me when I walk out of Maddox’s room. We don’t speak but I can feel him on
my heels. Each quick step I make is matched with his heavy stomp. I can feel the pressure of his presence as I grab the bathroom door.
Weston grips my waist and hauls me over his shoulder before tossing me on the bed. I shoot upwards but Weston covers my body with his. “What’s wrong with you,” Wes whispers against my skin. I push against his chest but he grips my wrists in one hand and presses me back down to my mattress.
“Stop fightin’ me, Roxanne,” he growls.
I feel the sticky hot feeling of my tears pouring down my face but they’re replaced by Weston’s lips all over me. “Shh,” he whispers. “Calm down.”
I begin a hiccup cry. I don’t even know exactly why I’m crying. Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I let my head fall against the mattress. “Why are you crying, baby?”
Another hiccup. “I—I don’t know.” My nose is beginning to run, so I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve.
“Listen to me,” Weston whispers against my mouth. “Shh, baby and listen to me.” He kneads at the back of my neck and forces my face up. “Nobody is going to understand us, Roxanne. Not the football team. SAU. Hell, this fuckin’ town wouldn’t even understand. I don’t do this. I don’t date.” He stares down at me. “But I’m willing to take this pass because I have faith in us.” He points to the tip of my nose with his index finger. “I need your faith too. I need you to believe in us as much as I do.”
The waterworks amp up and streams of tears run down my swollen eyes and onto my cheeks. “I do,” I choke out.
He nods. “Then fuck Rebecca, Roxanne. It’s only you and me. Nobody else.”
I nod. Those dark eyes wash away any doubt that’s built in my stomach. And in that moment it’s all I need to know we’re taking this chance together. “Nobody else.”
***
Weston
Roxy’s long tanned legs are propped up on the dashboard of my truck. The hem of her dress is sliding up against her upper thigh, giving me all the view I need. God, please don’t get hard now.
She runs her fingers through her long dark hair and rests her head against the headrest. The soft skin of her neck makes me want to reach over and lick and nip until she screams.
When she turns to look at me, she lifts a brow. I find myself wanting to know all about her. I want to know her deepest secrets. Where she grew up. I want to meet the people that raised her. Her first kiss. First love. Fuck—I need to know it all.
“What are you thinkin’ about over there?” she asks.
Reaching over, I run my finger down the side of her arm and wrap my grip around her wrist. “Where are your parents?”
A sad look forms and her lips turn down into a frown. I run my finger against the side of her lip. “I already told you. They kicked me out when I got pregnant. I was going to school from home and they just,” she shrugs, “kicked me out. I had to move in with Ryan.”
My jaw clenches. They kicked her out? I thought maybe—just maybe—there was another explanation. How could they do that to this girl? God—how could anyone look at her and toss her out. “Fuckers,” I blurt out.
Roxy laughs so loud she snorts and then turns red. “You’re fuckin’ adorable. Don’t worry about my parents. I’m better off without them. They never truly loved me, I don’t think. I was an accident.”
I glance over at her. She doesn’t look upset or even worried but I don’t know what she went through as a child. But I know that look isn’t one of hurt or worry. She’s okay with it. I wish I were.
“What about you? Where are your parents?”
“Home.”
She laughs and nudges my shoulder. “Here?”
I nod and scratch the back of my neck. “I had a normal childhood—I guess—but Dad wasn’t around a lot… we don’t talk much.”
She nods. “You’re just not close.”
I peak over at her. “Exactly.” But she just nods and closes her eyes. Most people judge me for not talking to my parents more often, or going to visit. They wouldn’t be there anyway. They’re always on vacation or out of state for business. Breeding bulls for bull riding is a popular business down here. Dad will drive three hundred miles for a damn bull but wouldn’t drive ten minutes uptown to see his son play football.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say.
Roxanne jumps out of the truck as soon as I stop in the car-riders line at the daycare. I watch as her hips sway and the wind blows her thick hair over her shoulders. The funny feeling in my stomach is starting to feel right.
I run my fingers over my scruffy jaw and lean back. I can see Roxy’s head inside of the glass window in the front. God. How did this happen? I was ready to kill her just a few weeks ago and now I want to wipe every ounce of hurt away from her. I want her to live happily—with me—forever. Forever hasn’t been in my vocabulary since I—ever.
Thump. Thump. Thump. “Roxy! Do I need to call the police?”
What? Roxy is running toward the truck when I glance up. Her makeup smearing down her tear-stained cheeks. What the—
She falls into the door and fumbles with it before swinging it open. “Ryan has Maddox. He came and got him!” she screams, her voice already hoarse from yelling.
I glance at the teacher standing behind her. “When did he come get him?”
She wraps her hand over her mouth and closes her eyes. “Umm … like an hour ago. Listen, I’m really—,”
“Get in, Roxanne,” I say.
She hiccups into her hands. “Get in!”
She hurries into the cab of the truck and I spin out. We don’t speak. I can’t. If I say one word I’m going to come undone. He took him? How? Do teachers just give children away to random people? What. The. Fuck! I slam my hands against the steering wheel over and over again until pain shoots through my wrist.
Magnolia is a small southern town. There are only a few motels here but I’m not going home until each one has been fucking checked and we’ve found this fucking asshole.
My tires squeal into the Magnolia Inn. Each parked car I check the license plate. Nothing. Roxy’s sobs are just tears now. “I’m scared.”
I cut a U-Turn and stomp my foot on the gas pedal. When we pull into the Hampton Inn, Roxy points straight toward a small Jeep Cherokee with Texas plates.
I pull in beside it. “Stay here,” I say, holding my hand out at her. “Please. Don’t be stupid. Stay in the car.”
I can tell she doesn’t want to but she nods and curls her knees up to her chin. There are only a few cars here and we’re far enough away from the office not to be seen.
A soft glow of the TV in room 118 casts light on the bed. An older couple are lying in the center. Passing the room, I stop on the one directly beside it. The curtains are drawn shut but I can hear Disney Channel on the other side.
Taking a deep breath, I pound my fists against the door. The TV clicks off and then the curtains shift an inch. I can’t tell who looks out but I know they see me. There is fumbling and then silence.
Thud. Thud. Thud. “Let me in, Ryan, or I’m calling the fuckin’ police after I whoop your ass.”
Silence.
Jesus Christ. Thoughts are pouring into my mind before I can process anything. What if he’s hurting him? I have to get in there. I thud my fists harder on the door, shaking underneath each thrust.
Silence.
I turn back to look at Roxy. She’s sitting on the edge of her seat, eyes wide and attentive. Pressing my lips together, I turn around and slam my foot against the door.
Then another time. Then another. With each kick the door rattles harder. Finally the door pops open. Dust floats down in front of the entryway.
He is standing in front of Maddox when I walk in. A dark hoodie covering his eyes. A syringe and a line of coke are sitting on the side table. Maddox’s eyes widen and he tries to run for me but Ryan grabs the back of his shirt and jerks him back. “He isn’t your daddy!” he screams.
He’s strung out. And to think the daycare
gave Maddox to this lunatic. The fact that he thinks he’s going to get away with this rubs me the wrong way. Maddox starts to cry and falls to the floor behind him.
When he turns back around the hood of his jacket falls from his face. There is no denying Maddox is his dad. The blue eyes. Black hair. It’s all there. But the cold distant look in his eyes isn’t something I trust. Especially when drugs are involved.
“You might as well hand him over and leave. He isn’t going with you and you aren’t staying.”
Ryan twitches and wipes at his nose. “Last time was a warning, Weston Garrison,” he says, his voice hoarse and cracked. “I have people coming to help me.”
My eyes flicker to Maddox. “Yea? Well tell them I live at the on-campus apartments. I’ll be fuckin’ waiting for them.”
He smiles, a row of rotten teeth below his sneer. “They’re already here,” he whispers.
Fear swarms my stomach. Not for me. For Roxy and Maddox. What does this guy want? Why now? “What do you want Ryan? What do you get out of trying to kidnap your kid?”
He curls his hands into fists. Obviously this isn’t going to be a civil meeting. “Don’t talk to me about my life! I have it under control!” he yells.
Maddox yelps out and curls into a tighter ball. Hell no. Fuck this shit. I take two steps forward, grab Ryan’s shirt and toss him away from Maddox.
“Go!” I yell and Maddox jumps up and disappears outside of the door. Ryan lays jerking and twitching on the floor. His eyes rolling back into his head and then close.
He’s not dead. He’s strung out. Digging my cell out of my pocket, I call the police. But for some reason, I know this is far from over.
Chapter Thirteen
Weston
“Just one more,” I whisper against her mouth.
She giggles against me and shoves me in the chest. “Go get ready for school. I’ll see you later.”
I grab her waist one last time and holster her up to my hip. With her back pressed against the outside of her door, I breathe in her flowery scent. This scent tops the football field by one thousand. “You had me all last night, Wes,” she groans.