by Claire Adams
His eyebrow lifted. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"
"I got stranded on the side of the road last night-"
"Shit, Val. In that storm?" His expression tightened.
"Yeah, but I'm good." I stretched my arms up to the ceiling and twisted. "This guy stopped and helped me, then he changed my tire for free today. He was a godsend."
"Okay. Where do I come into all of this?"
"He's a swimmer, and a damn good one. He's a student here, but he's not exactly the traditional type of guy that is on the swim team." I smirked at the incredulous look that moved across Martin's handsome face.
"Meaning?"
"He's got tats, lots of them, and he drives a bike, but he's a great guy. Looks can be a little deceiving." I shrugged and clasped my hands behind my back, pulling into a deep stretch.
"Have you seen him swim?" He crossed his arms over his chest.
"Nope, but I'm not asking you to let him on the team. Just give him a chance to try out. I know the try outs are closed, but you know Coach Dalmoth. Open it back up for him. You'll not be disappointed." I turned to see Dill motion for us to join him on the courts. It was our turn to play.
"You score the first three points in this game and I'll do it." He smirked, playing with me like he always did. He was a great guy, and Katelyn was lucky, but then again, so was he.
"Consider it done." I extended my hand and shook his before jogging out onto the court. I moved back into place as the tip off happened and jumped as hard as I could as the ball flew back toward me. I wanted to give Tate a chance at one of this dreams or at least crack open the door. Part of it was to say thank you for being so good to me the night before, but part of it was me starting to like him as a person. He was going to defend me at the burger place earlier that day even though there were four guys who were all bigger than him.
He didn't seem to care.
I turned and moved down the court, twisting and using every dribbling move I had to out maneuver the large guys that tried to take the ball from me. It wasn't going to be easy to get a three-pointer by any means. A layup, no problem, but having to stop on the outer rim while everyone was racing toward me?
Fuck.
I faked a jump at the three-point line and the large guy in front of me jumped, too. The moment he started to come down, I lifted on my toes and pushed off, letting the ball fly from my fingers and scoring the first three points of the game.
The crowd went wild and I let out a loud yell. I found Martin in the crowd, and he shook his head as a big smile lifted his lips.
He mouthed his response and I nodded.
Saturday. Two p.m. Don't be late.
Awesome.
Chapter 10
Tate
The rest of the afternoon and evening went by incredibly slow. After having lunch with Val, I wanted more of her. More time with her, if even just a quick moment. Anger burned through me at the thought of the blond dickhead from the hamburger place hurting her, and I had to calm myself more than once over it. How anyone could hurt a woman that looked as sweet as she did, and obviously had the heart to back it up, was beyond me.
What I couldn't reconcile was my prejudice against rich people and how I felt about her already, even just having met her. The bitch in the car the night before was much more in tune with what I expected from David Scott's kid. The more I thought about it, the more I remembered hearing about her family and their involvement in politics and the various school boards around the area. They had their name everywhere, and if I recalled correctly, the business building at UMN was named after her father, too.
"How's it going, buddy? You're working a whole lot slower than you usually do." Jerry patted me on the back as he stopped beside me under a Mustang I was working on. The breaks were shot and the fix usually took me an hour at most, but I'd been at my current project for a little over two hours at that point.
"Sorry, I guess I have too much on my mind." I wiped my forearm over my face and let out a long sigh. "Do you think all poor people are greedy and bitch about their lack all the time?"
"Nope." Jerry reached up and turned a knob that I was headed toward next. "And, I don't think all rich people are bad. People are people, Tate. You know that."
"Yeah, I guess." I lifted my arms and went back to work as my mind wandered in various dark corners, trying to discern if people really did fit certain classifications based on wealth or their social status.
"If you won a million dollars, what would you do with it?" He patted my back once. "Would you spend it all over the course of a week on all the toys you've always wanted?"
I pulled my hands down and turned to face him. "What? Of course not. I'd take care of my debts, put my mother in a nice house, and help out a few friends and some of the poorer families in my neighborhood. If there was anything left, I'd put it up for the future."
"And what would you do for yourself? Get a new bike? Vacation? A yacht?" He wagged his eyebrows.
"No, I'm good. I love my bike, and I don't have time to take off. You guys need me here." I smirked and went back to working.
"Exactly. Not everyone is what they seem, boy. You're not the anomaly, but those that live up to their stigma are." He walked away as his words sunk in. He had to be right.
Valentine didn't seem at all to be a rich bitch by any stretch of the imagination. She hadn't walked into the shop flaunting the fact that her father owned half the state of Minnesota. She'd been humble and not mentioned any of it until Jerry pulled it out of her. The night before, she'd just been trying to protect herself, or maybe I was giving her too much credit as it were.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and texted my mom, just checking in. My phone rang almost immediately with my mother's number on it. For a minute, I thought maybe I'd accidentally dialed her, but no, she was calling me. She never bothered me at work unless it was an emergency.
"Mom?" I walked out of the shop and into the darkness. I didn’t stop to grab my coat, but hopefully, I wouldn't be out there long.
"Tate, I'm sorry to bother you, but I need you." Her voice was pinched with fear and she was panting. My heart went into my throat almost immediately.
"Mom? What's going on? What's wrong?" Terror gripped me, and I jogged back to the garage to lay my tools down. Jerry glanced up, and I mouthed that it was my mom and I was leaving. He simply nodded. He knew the drama that continued to encircle my life since I'd been a boy.
"Daniel's here, Tate. Please be careful coming home." She let out a soft yelp just before she started crying. "I'm trying to be quiet."
"Fuck. Where are you?" I ran to my bike and got on, starting the engine. Her ex-boyfriend was supposed to still be in jail. Why wasn't he?
"I'm in the cabinet under your bathroom sink. He broke in. Hurry. Please. I'm scared." She let out another whimper, and damn if I didn't feel the burn of tears in my eyes. If anything happened to her, I was going to kill that motherfucker with my bare hands.
"Hold on. I'll be there in five minutes. Don't make a sound, Mom. Please." I dropped the call, unable to hold the phone to my ear while driving.
I made it home in three minutes by doing close to a hundred the whole way there. I pulled out my phone and dialed 9-1-1 as I raced toward the door.
"Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?"
"My stepfather is out of jail and trying to kill my mother. Look up the address from the phone. I'm leaving it on the porch and going in. Hurry." I sat the phone down and ducked into the house.
The sound of my mother screaming accompanied with the sickening thud of someone being beat left my lunch rising in my stomach.
I grabbed the baseball bat from the hall closet and raced down the hall.
"You sorry bitch. You shouldn't have tried to have me locked up. I'll-"
He didn't get another word out as I reached into the bathroom and grabbed a handful of his greasy hair. I pulled hard, and he screamed, but so did my mother. He had a handful of her hair, as well.
I didn't think twice
before swinging the bat and hitting him in the chest before he could figure out what was going on. He dropped her, and she scurried back in to the bathroom as she continued to cry amid her horrible coughing.
"You sorry motherfucker." I hit him again, but he wasn't one to lay back and take a beating. The nasty scar across his ugly face was new, fresh. I had to guess that he didn't play too well with the guy in his cell.
"You little son of a bitch." He grabbed the bat and pulled me to him, head-butting me hard.
I stumbled backward, but got my footing enough to drop to the ground and ram the bat into his crotch. He screamed and fell to the floor in front of me. I threw the bat behind me and grabbed him, rolling him and climbing on top of him as I started to throw punches.
Two strong hands pulled me off of him only seconds later, and every muscle in my body locked up. I'd never been so damn scared in all my life. I blinked a few times, realizing that the cops were there, and we were going to be okay. I scrambled into the bathroom and picked up my mother to carry her out.
"Right this way, son." A cop reached out and took my arm, helping me to keep my focus by guiding me out of the house. "Careful of the stairs."
I followed the sound of his voice, but kept my eyes focused on my mom. She was breathing, but her eyes were closed and her face bloody.
"Please, don't let anything happen to her." I moved to the ambulance as they opened the back doors. A car pulled up and my mother's oldest sister got out and ran toward us.
"Oh my God, Tate. She called and said to get over here, but you know I live about-" She stopped and let out a soft scream as she moved up to hover over the top of my mom. "Is she... Is she..."
"No, she's just hurt pretty bad." I reached out and brushed my mother's hair back. She wasn't responding, but I'd seen her like that more times than I could count. She found a safe place in her mind to hide, and I couldn't say that I didn't understand why she did it. I wanted a safe place to hide, too.
"Can I go with her? Is that okay?" My aunt pulled me into a quick hug as I nodded in agreement.
"Where are you taking her?" I asked one of the paramedics as they closed the back of the ambulance.
"St. Mark's General," he barked and walked around the ambulance.
I turned in time to see three cops pulling Daniel out of the house, kicking and screaming. He was bigger than me, but there was no way I would ever back down from a fight.
"You sorry fucker. She's my woman and none of your damn concern. This is your fault," he screamed at me as they wrestled him in the back of the cop car.
"How is it my fault?" I mumbled and walked back to the house, completely exhausted and far more emotionally defeated than I remembered being before. He would have beat her to death if I hadn't have gotten home.
"Yeah, and you would have been home earlier if you hadn't taken that pretty girl that's way out of your league out on a date. What the fuck were you thinking?" I told myself as I walked up the stairs, hard emotions wrapping around my chest and squeezed like a vice grip. I was going to head up to the hospital, but I needed a minute to pull myself together.
I made it to the bathroom before my stomach turned over. Dropping to my knees, I closed my eyes and tried hard not to relive the terror of seeing Daniel back in the house. He was a monster of the worst kind, and I had to find a way to make sure that he wouldn't ever hurt my mother again.
The sound of someone coming in the house left my blood running cold. I jerked up and barged down the hall to see a frightened Sam standing in the living room with his hands up.
"What the fuck is going on? I saw all of the ambulances just leaving here. You okay? Where's your mom?" He glanced around.
I pressed my hands to my face and let out a long scream, unable to help myself. He wrapped me in a tight hug, and I let him. I hadn't cried since we were kids, but I was so fucking tired of fighting a battle that never ended.
"Hey, man. I'm right here for you. It's me and you against the world. Tell me what you need and we'll get it. Anything." Sam patted my back and let me lose my shit for a few minutes before pulling back. "What happened?"
I wiped at my face angrily before walking to the kitchen and downing three glasses of water. My insides were a fucking wreck, and I couldn't stop seeing my mother lying on the floor, curled up and shivering like a broken animal.
"Daniel was here. Beating her up again." I filled up the glass again, wanting so damn bad for it to be vodka, but knowing that I needed my wits about me to get to the hospital.
"Oh, shit. Where's your mom?" His face paled.
"She's on the way to St. Mark’s. Can you take me there?" I downed the last glass as I watched him. "I don't feel like freezing my ass off on the bike."
"Of course. Let's go." He opened the door for me and glanced over as we walked out toward the truck. "He didn't hurt you, right?"
"Just my pride, as per usual. The bastard's strong. I hate him so damn much." I got in the truck and buckled up as my phone buzzed. Valentine.
Val: Hey. Thanks for lunch today. I wanted you to know that I got you a try-out spot on the swim team on Saturday at two. Don't be late. The natatorium.
I wasn't sure what to say, so I didn't respond until later that night when things had finally settled down. I knew she could tell that I'd read the text, but I could explain later if she forced me to. I prayed like hell that she wasn't the needy type of girl that would want something in return for her kindness. Even more so, I hoped that she wouldn't need a fucking explanation to everything I did or didn't do.
I could feel the beginnings of a relationship starting, and while I wanted one desperately, I'd been burned far too many times. Women wanted sex or attention, but rarely love. I'd have to keep myself protected, safe.
"Who you texting over there?" Sam leaned over and tugged my phone from my hand. "Oh cool. Who's this Val person? A girl?"
"Yeah. The chick that I helped on the side of the road last night. She came by the shop today and we grabbed lunch together. She's pretty cool." I shrugged and leaned back against the plastic chair in the waiting room.
"Pretty cool? Did this chick really get you a try out opportunity for the swim team?" Sam's voice was filled with warmth.
I couldn't afford to share his excitement. I'd wanted to be on the damn team too long and had been shunned by them several times during my freshman and sophomore years. Tomorrow at two would be no different.
"Yeah, she's a great girl, but I'm not sure I'm going. You know those guys are dicks." I pulled my phone from him, turned it off, and shoved it back into my pocket.
"What? Fuck that. You're an incredible swimmer. Get out there and break all their fucking records. Then what are they going to do? Oh yeah. Right. Let you on the team," he snorted.
"I'm not sure I want on the team anymore, Sam. I have to start picking up shifts at the garage, seeing that Mom is already having trouble paying the rent, and now this." I lifted my hands in the air. "Jerry wants me to think about being the assistant manager, anyway. It's probably better if I just drop out of school and work on bringing in more money. I can't leave that burden on Mom. She's already about to drop."
"Did she have that cough checked on?" He sat up as a nurse walked toward us.
"No, but I'll make sure they do that while we're here." I stood to face the woman.
"Are you Tate?" Her smile was kind.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Your mom’s awake and wants to see you. Your friend can come, too." She turned and we followed her down the hall.
I almost thought I'd gotten away with my comments on leaving college, but Sam started in on me just before we walked into the room.
"You're not quitting, by the way. You're almost there. I'll help out. I have some money saved up." The ass made sure to say it as we walked into the room.
My mother sat up in her bed with a loud grunt. "You're not talking about quitting school again, right?"
"No, Mom." I reached for her hand, lifting it to my mouth and kissing her fingers
. "Hush about that right now. You okay?"
"You're not quitting. Promise me now." Her eyes filled with tears. "Promise me."
"Fine, Mom. I'm not quitting." I leaned down and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner tonight."
"I'm not your responsibility. Besides, I'm going to file charges this time like I should have before. You were right." She moved back and gave me a tearful grin. "We'll put him away forever."
"Or I'll kill him." I glanced up at Sam. "Self-defense, right?"
"No, you won't." My mom touched the side of my face. "You know why?"
"Why, Mom?"
"Because you're nothing like him. Don't ever become that way, okay?"
I nodded and tried to let the torrent of emotions plaguing me die down. I needed a drink, a hot shower, and a long night with a good woman screaming my name. I knew two of those things were in the cards, but funnily enough, it was the last one that I needed the most.
I couldn't help but wonder if Val might be up for it. There was a high possibility that she needed it more than I did. I just had to figure out if I had the nerve to find out.
Chapter 11
Val
It had been a long week at school, but a busy one. I hadn't heard another word from Paul, which was good, but I hadn't heard much from Tate, either. Outside of his quick text back with a short thank you, there hadn't been anything. I was starting to wonder if I'd made up the connection we had the day we went to lunch together. I'd finally resigned myself to moving on. The ball was in his court on us seeing each other again, and I wasn't one to push anything that I was lukewarm about anyway.
My dreams were filled with lusty moments strapped to a bed with him hovering over me, but they were nothing more than dreams. He was a good guy, and I had too much drama and baggage to mess up what was probably a simple life for him.
Besides, if he wanted anything to do with me, he would call.
My alarm went off on Saturday morning far earlier than it normally would, which left me grouchy before my feet even hit the floor. My mother wanted me to spend the day with her, working on the last minute decorations for my sister’s upcoming wedding. While I love my sister Allison, the last thing I wanted to do was spend time with my mother. She'd focus on the wedding plans for ten percent of the time, and the rest of the day would be spent with her ripping me apart for my innumerable inadequacies.