Draw Play: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 4)

by Jami Davenport

  Brice grinned and flipped him off. Bruiser fought like a son of a bitch to get to Bry, only he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, rendered helpless by the muddy fog.

  A flash of light.

  A deafening boom.

  An ear-splitting scream that never ended, a scream that lived in Bruiser’s nightmares and sat on the edge of his conscious mind, ever present.

  The world exploded, catapulting Brice across the patio, arms and legs flailing. Bruiser broke through the fog, ripped off his shirt, and beat at the blaze engulfing his brother. His twin stared up at him, his mouth twisted in a silent scream as his face melted down to bone and charcoaled sinew. Chaos reigned as Brice’s screams melded with Bruiser’s and the screams of sirens and neighbors.

  The fire sizzled out.

  Brice’s face rebuilt itself until Bruiser stared into the hollow eyes of Elliot holding a pistol in his small hand.

  As if in a trance, Elliot lifted the pistol to his head and pulled the trigger while Bruiser watched in helpless horror. Bits of brain matter and blood splattered Bruiser’s face and clothes. Elliot slumped to the ground, morphing back into Brice, the side of his head blown off and his blood quickly pooling on the concrete. Watching Bruiser with lifeless eyes, Brice sat up, lifted the gun, and aimed it at his twin. Bruiser froze and waited for the end.

  “Bruiser! Bruiser! Bruiser!” Mac’s voice penetrated the smothering fear and cut through the bad horror flick cycling through his mind. Only it hadn’t been a horror flick, and the people involved weren’t actors. They were real. The scene had been real.

  At least part of it.

  Bruiser shot up in bed, chest heaving and body shaking like a rookie quarterback on his first play in the pros. A cold sweat streamed down his face, drenching his hair.

  He blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes. Finally, he focused on Mac, alarm splashed on her face.

  Mac wrapped him in her arms, and damn, he needed her comfort, needed her warmth, just needed her. He held on, breathing in her scent, burying his face in her tousled hair, taking comfort from her nearness.

  When his shaking subsided and his heart rate returned to near normal, he drew back, a little sheepish and a lot embarrassed, feeling open and vulnerable.

  “Sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. You were having a nightmare.”

  Her concern touched him more deeply than he cared to admit. Rarely had anyone expressed concern over his demons. He’d lived with them for so very long that he just assumed that was the way life was, for him at least.

  Bruiser ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, happens once in a while.”

  “Is it the same dream every time?” Mac, on her knees beside him, rubbed his shoulders in deep, comforting circles.

  “Variations of the same dream.” Bruiser relaxed against the headboard and closed his eyes.

  Mac slid her naked body across his. She stroked his cheek as she stared into his eyes. God, he could lose himself in those brown eyes. He had lost himself more than once and wanted to again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  No one ever asked him that question. To talk about it meant he’d have to reveal the tragedy and shame he’d lived with since he’d been a kid. He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll live.”

  “It was something. You were sweating, tossing around, definitely upset.”

  “I’ll cope.”

  “Brice is your twin brother.”

  Bruiser nodded. “How did you know?”

  “You were shouting his name. Were you dreaming about his death? Bruiser, what happened to Brice? Why do you carry guilt around like a life sentence?”

  Because it was a life sentence for murder. That’s how he saw it.

  Bruiser gently pushed her off him and stood. “I need to get going.” He escaped before Mac could ask any more questions.

  * * * * *

  That Thursday, Mac rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirt and glanced at the time on her cell phone. She’d been waiting for more than a half hour so far. Vince was still in his interview, which didn’t bode well for Mac.

  Mac hated wearing a business suit. She couldn’t imagine how men endured not just a suit but a constricting tie every day at work. And the shoes—her feet hurt like hell.

  She flipped through another magazine without reading it or noticing the pictures until she came across an underwear ad featuring an almost-naked Bruiser and a gorgeous female model with equally minimal clothes. The woman stood behind him, her arms around his waist and her hands under the waistband of his briefs. Bruiser’s head was half-turned to look behind him while the model leaned into him. Their lips were only an inch apart. The woman was beyond beautiful, as beautiful as Bruiser. Mac could never compete physically with a woman like that, even if she wanted to. Mac was more interested in competing for his heart, but she was competing with a ghost.

  He refused to open up to her, to trust her with his pain, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Instead, he withdrew and made himself scarce. She suspected he’d run all his life from those particular demons, and he’d keep running until he worked up the courage to confront them.

  The door to Veronica’s office opened. Vince came out laughing and chatting with Veronica. He spotted Mac, smirked at her, and nodded at Veronica.

  “Thanks so much for your time. Learning from your wisdom is invaluable to me.”

  Mac resisted the urge to gag as Veronica smiled broadly. Mac didn’t get it. The guy was a tool. Veronica, a smart, savvy businesswoman, should be able to figure that out.

  Veronica turned from Vince to Mac, and her smile faded into a first-class scowl, not exactly a so-happy-to-see-you expression. She glanced at her watch and tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m running behind. Let’s make this quick.”

  Mac bit back a smart retort. It wasn’t her fucking fault Veronica was running late.

  Veronica ushered her into her swanky office with a view of Lake Washington and pointed at a chair. “Sit down.”

  Mac sat and waited for the interview to begin. And waited. And waited. Five minutes of uncomfortable silence passed while Veronica stared at her computer screen. Maybe she was looking at Mac’s scholarship application, but Mac doubted it. Seething inside, she longed to retaliate for every little insult and slight Veronica had heaved on her over the past few years, but Mac wanted that damn scholarship.

  Veronica was once again wielding her power like a narcissistic dictator.

  Finally, the woman sat back and speared Mac with a gaze that said she saw everything and didn’t like what she saw. “I do have an issue with staff fraternizing with players.”

  Mac squared her shoulders and sat up straighter. She returned Veronica’s accusatory gaze with one of her own. “I’m here to be interviewed for a scholarship. My personal life is none of your business.”

  Veronica arched one perfectly shaped black eyebrow. “Everything that happens between my players and staff is my business.”

  Damn hard, but Mac bit down on the words, leaving them unspoken. She’d like to see Veronica mow perfectly straight lines regardless of the weather. “Could we start the interview? As you pointed out, you’re running late.”

  Veronica nodded. “Fine. Why should I give you this scholarship?”

  Mac ran through her rehearsed answers, while Veronica stared at her computer screen, yawned, and then picked up her phone and tapped out a couple text messages.

  Mac stopped talking. The woman had already made her decision. It didn’t matter what Mac said or how qualified she was for the scholarship, Veronica had made her choice, and it wasn’t Mac.

  “Are you going to devote time to finish your education? You quit once.”

  “There were extenuating circumstances.”

  “And are those circumstances gone now?”

  “Not exactly.” The last nail hit the scholarship coffin.

  “Okay, that’s all. We’ll be in touch.” Veronica stood, effectively dismissing Mac. “Oh, and one more thing: be careful
with Bruiser. He’s not serious.”

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Simms.”

  “Don’t forget what I said.”

  Mac bit back a smart retort and escaped with her hope in shreds.

  At least she still had her job.

  * * * * *

  “You need to lose her, and fast.”

  Bruiser glanced up from the weight machine he’d been battling. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and squinted into the bright overhead lights at Veronica. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Get rid of Mac.” Veronica stood a few feet from him, legs braced apart and hands on her hips, her typical fighting stance.

  “Since when do you pick my friends?” Bruiser ignored her concern. Veronica didn’t worry him one bit.

  “She’s not a friend. You’re screwing that woman.”

  “Who I choose to spend time with is none of your fucking business.”

  “I built you, mister. Don’t you forget it. I’ve been with you every step of the way, getting you great endorsements, helping you with your charity work, and asking nothing in return.”

  Bruiser laughed. Veronica never did anything that did not benefit her or the team. “I can smell your bullshit a mile away. Our relationship has been mutually beneficial. I use you, you use me. Business partners and nothing else.”

  “As your business partner, I don’t like the message you’re sending to your sponsors and your fans if this gets out. Not to mention you shouldn’t be banging the staff.”

  “Since I have no power over Mac and her employment here, I can’t see where that’s a problem.” A muscle twitched in his jaw, and judging by Veronica’s shrewd smirk, she noticed.

  “Until she sues the team’s ass off or someone else does claiming she’s getting special privileges.”

  “Who would do that?”

  Veronica stared at him as if he were a dumb shit. “Seriously? Anyone who’s passed over for a promotion in favor of Mac.”

  “And anyone who’s applied for the same scholarship.”

  “There you go; I always knew you were more than a pretty face.”

  Bruiser almost growled, but Veronica threw back her head and laughed, or more accurately cackled like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz.

  “So, pretty boy, you understand the problem?” Veronica rarely called him that. She knew how much he hated it, which said a lot, and none of it good.

  “There is no problem. Mac and I are just friends. I took her to a few charity events so she could get close to you, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, and you salivated over her like a dog over US prime beef. Bruce, you’re naïve if you think anyone with eyes hasn’t picked up on the sexual electricity arcing between the two of you.”

  “Arcing? Seriously?” He laughed.

  “Deadly serious. Think about it.” Veronica patted him on the shoulder as if he were a pet. Maybe that’s all he was to her, a pet who performed tricks for a well-paying audience.

  He understood Veronica—usually. Veronica breathed every breath for the team; her entire existence revolved around the team. Team members and staff alike despised Veronica. While Bruiser didn’t exactly approve of her methods at times, he understood her dedication to the Steelheads. He felt that same dedication to his cause.

  People never guessed that underneath Bruiser’s polished exterior lurked the sharp mind of a savvy businessman, Veronica knew. She also knew he had an MBA in finance.

  People accused him of being greedy and money hungry, but Bruiser knew his good looks wouldn’t last forever so he had to milk every penny possible out of them while he was still marketable. Of course, no one suspected all those pennies didn’t go in Bruiser’s private bank account but to his secret charity. A charity he started and supported as atonement for his tragic childhood mistake.

  Lots of people assumed he’d had a long-standing affair with Veronica, yet they’d actually never slept together. Bruiser just didn’t feel it with her any more than she felt it with him.

  Nothing like Mac and him.

  Mac. What the hell was he going to do about her?

  His head said break it off. His dick said no fucking way. And his heart? Bruiser had stopped factoring that piece into a relationship since CeCe stomped all over him and left him bleeding and broken in the aftermath of her affair and their divorce.

  He knew better than to get involved again, especially with a woman who couldn’t do anything to forward his cause. He couldn’t get more donations or publicity by hanging out with Mac, not like he could with a Grammy Award-winning performer or an A-list female actor.

  If it were only about Veronica’s threats, he’d flip Veronica the bird and go on about his fucking business.

  But it wasn’t. There was another huge complication. Mac was married to finding her brother. She didn’t have room in her life for anything else other than a hookup now and then. Bruiser was married to football and paying his debt because he’d survived and his brother hadn’t.

  Two damaged hearts with serious baggage didn’t bode well for the success of a relationship, if that’s what they even had.

  * * * * *

  Something was wrong. Sure, Mac’s interview with Veronica had sucked, but she didn’t think that was it. Maybe her radar was working overtime tonight, or maybe she was just paranoid.

  Bruiser had showed up late at night, long after she’d given up and gone to bed.

  They made love like two people who knew the world could end tomorrow. Afterward, he didn’t stick around and cuddle, which he’d done for the past week. Instead, he got dressed and came back to sit on the side of the bed. “We really need to be more careful. Veronica’s suspicious.”

  She didn’t think this was really about Veronica. More likely his nightmare had revealed too much and he was using the excuse to do damage control.

  She decided to play along and see where it went. “Tell me about it. I had a horrible interview with her today.”

  “Ah, Mac, I’m sorry about that. Really. You denied our relationship, didn’t you?”

  Mac flipped on the nightstand light and studied him. “What if I didn’t?”

  Panic crossed his face, which pissed Mac off.

  “What if I shout it to the entire world, sell the story of our torrid love affair to a gossip mag, or tweet it all over hell and back?”

  Bruiser coughed nervously. “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “If I did, would you care if we were out in the open?”

  “There’s no reason for that. It’s not beneficial to either of us.”

  “Scared?” She needled him, feeling a little used by him and a lot disrespected by Veronica.

  “Mac, it’ll jeopardize your scholarship.” Bruiser folded and unfolded a corner of the bedspread, as if he found it more fascinating than her.

  That really ticked her off. “My scholarship is beyond jeopardized. It’s dead and buried.”

  “Aw, Mac, I’m sorry.” He reached out to hug her, but she darted away to stand on the opposite side of the bed.

  When she caught him eyeing her naked body, she yanked the damn quilt out of his hands and wrapped it around her. “It was a long shot to begin with. I knew it was. I’ll just try to save some money to attend night school.”

  “I could loan you—”

  “No, I won’t take charity. Not from you, not from anyone.”

  “I was just trying to help.”

  “Why help me? It’s not like we have a real relationship.” Mac hated the bitchiness in her voice but couldn’t stop herself.

  “There’s not time for one. You’re searching for your brother, and training camp is about to start, not to mention my obligations to my endorsers.”

  Something snapped inside Mac. “Your endorsers. That’s what this is really about. You think word is getting out about us. You don’t want to be seen with someone like me. A woman who mows lawns for a living and has dirt under her fingernails.”

  Bruiser’s eyes narrowed, and he fisted his hands. Mac could s
ee the anger vibrating through his body. “Don’t ever put yourself down like that. Ever. You don’t need to change for me or anyone else. I liked you how you were before.”

  “You’re so full of shit.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Now he appeared good and mad.

  “You’re acting like this is my fault, when you’re the one having an issue with us.”

  “I’m not having an issue. You are. I can’t carry on a relationship with a woman whose dead brother is a huge part of our relationship.”

  “My brother deserves justice, and my family deserves closure.” She was being a bitch, and she knew it, but right now she wanted to make Bruiser disappear. She had a better chance of winning the Powerball without ever buying a ticket than she did of finding her brother alive, yet hearing Bruiser say it with such certainty really didn’t work for her. Nor did all this bullshit he was spewing. If he wanted out, he should just say so, but he wasn’t going to have his cupcakes and eat them too. Not now. Not at this point.

  “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I mean, I don’t know what happened to him, but he’s not going to be found alive.” He sounded oddly flustered.

  “What about your brother? I told you my story, and you don’t even trust me enough to tell me about your twin. Why do you have nightmares? Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

  Bruiser rubbed the back of his neck and refused to look at her. “I told you that subject was off-limits.”

  Mac just shook her head. “If you want to end this not relationship, spit it out.”

  Bruiser stared at the floor, a muscle jerking in his strong jaw. “I don’t know. I don’t think this will end well, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Oh, the I don’t want to hurt you speech.” Mac’s bitter laugh rang through the room.

  “Listen, Mac”—he met her gaze—“I’m screwed up more than you’ll ever know, and you’re not far behind. You can’t say no to your father, and you spend every fucking free minute searching for a brother you’ll never find. You don’t have time for me or anyone else.”