by Lori Foster
Armie glanced at him, then accepted the bottle of water Justice held out. “Yeah, thanks.”
With a pat on Bray’s back, Justice went back to the women.
Armie opened the water and handed it to Bray. “Did you run all the way here?”
“Pretty much.” He chugged down some water, looked worriedly at the door, then frowned up at Armie. “I remembered something else and I had to tell you.”
“It couldn’t wait?”
Bray shook his head. “Those people at the park? They talked about a robbery, and how an MMA guy there screwed up their plans.”
Armie’s blood rushed cold. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. I forgot about it at first, but the more I thought on it, the more stuff I remembered.”
If that was true, Armie needed to let Cannon know, and he needed to get hold of Logan. It might even be a good enough excuse to go see Rissy, just to update her. She’d want to know if there was proof that the incidents were all tied together, dating back to the bank robbery.
He was about to ask Bray more questions when his foster parents, Sally and Bill, showed up. He hadn’t seen them since the first time they’d met under similar circumstances. This time, however, they looked plenty irritated, but even more worried.
“Oh shit,” Bray muttered. “Now I’m in for it.”
“And rightfully so. You could have called me.” Armie cupped the back of Bray’s neck, making a point before the parents reached them. “They care about you and you keep sending them into a panic. That’s not fair.”
“They wouldn’t have let me talk to you. They...heard some things, and now they think you’re a bad influence.”
Well, hell. That could throw off his efforts to help. “Go over to Justice, okay? I want to talk to them first.”
Bray took off without asking any questions.
The second Sally and Bill reached him, Armie explained, “He just got here.”
“We know,” Bill told him. “He ran off and when he didn’t immediately return, we assumed he’d come here.”
Sally inhaled sharply. “This is a problem, Mr. Jacobson. Twice he’s taken off, and both times it was to you.”
Bill put a hand on Sally’s arm.
Feeling guilty when he had no reason to, Armie kept his tone calm. “You have to know I never encouraged that.”
“It’s happened all the same.”
True enough. “He’s got a mind of his own.”
“He’s fifteen!” Sally snapped. “Why does he keep coming to you?”
Appealing to them both, Armie stepped closer. “The way he was raised...it’s made him more independent than some kids his age might be.”
“He’s a good kid,” Bill said.
“A great kid,” Armie agreed. “But he has a lot of anger. I understand that.”
Sally, the most antagonistic, asked, “What makes you so understanding?”
“My mom threw me away, too.”
She gasped. Silence swelled around them. If they thought the truth was startling to hear, they ought to know how bad it was to live it.
“Coming here, to the rec center, is important to him,” Armie said. “Please don’t take that from him. I swear it helps kids like him to work off anger, to belong to a group, to have that camaraderie and to talk to someone who gets it.”
“We get it,” Sally said.
“No,” Armie told her respectfully. “You love him. That’s altogether different. And it’s great. Really great. But if you haven’t been in his shoes, then you can’t know.” He put a fist to his chest, over his heart. “I know.”
Sally and Bill shared a look.
Understanding their problem, Armie bit back his pride and instead of walking, he stood his ground. “Bray said you heard some of the rumors.”
“Are they only rumors?” Bill asked.
“Not an ounce of truth to them.” For the next few minutes Armie gave them a shortened, censored version of the old story making the rounds once more. “I don’t usually explain. As you can imagine, it’s a sore spot with me. But for Bray, I wanted you to understand. If too much gets said, my sponsors and I will fight it. But for now I prefer to concentrate on other things.”
“Like your upcoming fight,” Bill said.
That sounded as plausible as anything else, so Armie nodded. “Yes.”
“And Bray?” Sally asked.
A far more important consideration. “Definitely Bray.”
Bill silently deferred to his wife, and finally Sally nodded. “Can you tell me the schedule? I know he loves it, but what exactly will a boy Bray’s age be doing here? What does it cost and who will be instructing him?”
Armie turned to Justice, and the big lug immediately stepped forward. “Armie has an appointment, but Bray and I can show you around, then I’ll answer all your questions.”
God bless good friends.
After a few more exchanges, Armie left them gawking at Justice—and with Bray smiling ear to ear.
Progress.
Now, if only the rest of his problems could be solved so expediently.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WHEN HER CELL rang again, Merissa glanced at the call ID, saw it was Steve and ignored it. She had zero interest in talking to him and she’d tell him so, for the hundredth time, except that for once she wanted to get out of the bank on time.
It wasn’t easy trying to stay productive while missing Armie so much.
Did he miss her, too?
From what Leese had told her, while Armie seemed gloomy and pushed himself too hard, their separation hadn’t interfered with his training. She wanted him to win the fight. She wanted the whole world to take note of Armie Jacobson, to see what she saw in him, to know what an amazing man he was.
But she also wanted their relationship to matter to him.
Selfish.
Before she brought any more drama to his life, Armie needed to get through the fight, settle the issues with his father, with Bray and put the rumors to rest. Only then could she push him to settle things with her.
Unfortunately, that all felt so far away.
What if months went by and nothing got sorted out?
What if, in fact, she was pregnant?
Despite Yvette’s encouragement, she hadn’t yet done the drugstore test. Truthfully, she was afraid to. If Armie didn’t care enough to fight for her, why should she think he’d fight for a baby? Then again, in her heart, she knew Armie would never turn his back on her or a child of his own. But damn it, she didn’t want him cornered. She wanted him to love her.
When her office landline rang, she almost welcomed the interruption to her dejected thoughts. She needed to focus on bank business, and only bank business.
Dredging up her professional voice, she said, “Thank you for calling Warfield Bank. This is Merissa speaking, how may I help you?”
“Merissa.”
She dropped her head back with a silent groan.
“Merissa?”
Swiveling her chair to the door, she asked, “What do you want, Steve?”
“To talk to you.” And then with accusation: “You’re avoiding me.”
Exactly! “If you know that, then why do you keep calling?”
He huffed out a breath. “I heard you and the rapist split up.”
Glad that he’d called the bank’s landline instead of her cell, Merissa slammed the phone down on him. That was something she couldn’t do with a cell. A simple click didn’t provide near the same level of satisfaction.
Of course he called right back.
Just in case it wasn’t him... “Thank you for calling—”
“It’s me, damn it. Don’t hang up.”
Sitting forward, she snapped, “You can bet I’ll hang up if you insult Armie again.”
“All right. Calm down.”
She didn’t want to be calm. For once she wished she was an MMA fighter because she’d love to beat the hell out of a heavy bag. A calming breath did nothing to help her regain her
aplomb. “Without insults, what do you want, Steve?”
“You. I’ve always wanted you.”
“No you didn’t, and it’s not happening now.”
He growled. “Could we at least talk? Grab a coffee or something? For old time’s sake?”
Merissa didn’t want to, but she knew she was being surly and mean and it wasn’t like her. “Steve,” she complained, “there’d be no point.”
“It’d make me feel better. I worry about you.” He paused, then asked, “Are you and the fighter still together?”
Blast him for asking that. “It’s complicated.”
His chuckle grated down her spine. “That’s what women always say when they’re giving a guy too much leeway. He’s either with you, or he isn’t.”
Since she feared he might be right, she said, “Fine. When and where?”
“We can get together? Really?”
The pleasure in his tone didn’t fool her. Steve had never really cared about her. If he wanted her now, it was only to salve his bruised ego over her disinterest. If meeting with him now would accomplish that, if it would get him to accept the truth, then why not? “Coffee, that’s all, so don’t make a big deal of it.”
“Tomorrow after work? I could pick you up.”
No way. “I’ll meet you,” she said. “Where?”
After making arrangements, Merissa hung up and hurried through the rest of her work. She was determined to be out the door very soon. She wanted to get home, soak in the tub for, oh, an hour or so, and then make waffles for dinner.
Waffles usually helped everything.
Unfortunately, she knew she could eat a dozen waffles and it wouldn’t matter. It required Armie himself to mend her broken heart, and he was still avoiding her “for her own good.” Somehow she needed a way around his nobility.
She’d give him one week after his fight, and then she was going after him.
* * *
OUTSIDE THE BANK, on the opposite side of the street, Keno sucked on a chocolate milk shake and considered his plan. Boyd paced beside him, but Keno held still, only his thoughts churning as he went through the details over and over.
“This could backfire,” Boyd said.
The chicken shit. “It’s all arranged.”
“What if we get caught?”
“We won’t.” Finishing the shake with one last long draw, Keno tossed it into a trash can. “We’ll wait until she’s well away from here, on one of those older streets near her house. Then we’ll get her. Piece of cake.”
Boyd scrubbed both hands over his face. “Steve isn’t going to like it.”
“Steve’s a pussy. But he’ll pay.” Already they’d gotten good old Steve for thousands. The idiot had money to burn, an obsession with one tall, thin girl and an ego as big as his mouth. Keno saw no reason not to use the combination to his advantage.
Fretting like an old lady, Boyd asked, “What time is it?”
“We’ve got thirty minutes or so before she wraps it up. Should be dark enough by then.”
“She noticed us last time.”
“Last time, I wanted her to. Remember, Steve was hoping the truth about her dirtbag boyfriend would be enough to send her running—preferably to him. But that hasn’t happened.”
“Can’t say as I blame her. Steve is a douche.”
Keno couldn’t argue that. “This time she won’t have a clue we’re tailing her. Just be ready to go as soon as she walks out.” He smiled as he thought about it.
Finally Steve would get to be the hero, by paying to get her back.
And until then, Keno wouldn’t mind getting his hands on her again—this time without her hulk of a defender around to kick his ass.
* * *
KNOWING THAT JUSTICE, despite his messy faux-hawk hair and cauliflower ears, would charm Bray’s parents, Armie headed out for his truck. He had his keys in hand, the door open, when a familiar voice spoke behind him.
“It’s been a long time.”
He sucked in air so fast he almost strangled himself. Jerking around on high alert, he stared at the woman standing there. Her hair was darker, shorter. She’d put on a few pounds. But not in a million years would he ever forget her.
Lea Baley...all grown up.
Here.
In front of the gym where he trained.
Surprise gave way to anger, and Armie slammed the truck door hard enough to shake the entire vehicle.
He took one step forward, then stopped himself, unsure what he would—should—do.
Lea didn’t smile, but neither did she look afraid. “I suggest you let me explain before you lose your temper.”
“My temper shot to the moon the second you spoke.”
She nodded, then said, “It’s not me.”
That stymied him. “What’s not you?”
“Spreading the rumors. Stirring up old news that, honestly, leaves me ashamed. Probably more than you, I’d like to forget it ever happened.”
Armie sucked in a longer, slower breath. “This is so fucked-up.”
Now she gave a slight smile. “I had planned on never seeing you again.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Would’ve suited me just fine.”
“I know. Just as I know you have to hate me.” She shifted, rearranged her purse strap, locked her hands together. “This is awkward. We both know I lied back then. I was young and dumb and you ignored me and I lashed out. I did the unthinkable. It was an awful thing to do. I wish I could redo the past, but we don’t have that luxury.”
Armie crossed his arms and visually dissected her. She sounded sincere enough, but hell if he’d ever trust her.
Holding out her hand, knuckles up, Lea said, “I’m married now.”
After glancing at the moderate diamond on her ring finger, he asked, “Does the lucky bastard know what a conniving liar you are?”
She rolled in her lips, looked down, then again met his gaze. “Yes, I told him all about you.”
“Bullshit.”
She continued as if he didn’t repeatedly insult her. “We have two daughters. They’re two and four and I pray I’m a better, more responsible mother than I was a daughter.” After tucking her hair behind her ear, she came to stand by him, then leaned on his truck. Voice lower, softer, she said, “Back then, I didn’t see a way out.”
“You could have told the truth.”
“Yes. But after my dad believed the story and ran with it, then your dad agreed and...” She shrugged. “It’s not an excuse, Armie, and it’s still unforgivable. But I felt stuck with my own story. One of us was going to be shamed and I was just plain too cowardly to let it be me.”
Well, hell. It took a lot of guts to make that admission.
“I called you once, years ago.”
“I laughed and hung up on you.” Without hearing why she’d contacted him.
“I remember. And I didn’t blame you.” Her shoulder bumped his. “It doesn’t matter now, but I’d called to apologize.”
Armie had no idea what to say. Never, not once, had he ever figured on this exact scenario. In his mind, Lea would always be the same spoiled, hateful kid he’d known back then.
But he supposed a decade could change a person. “Fine, you’re all contrite and shit. Like you said, it doesn’t matter now, so why are you here?”
“Because I’ve lived my whole life knowing the awfulness of what I’d done to you.” She looked up at him. “It was a lot to bear and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to redeem myself. But now, finally, I can do something to help. I know it won’t change the past, but maybe it’ll change the present and that has to count for something.”
“Instead of the philosophical speech, why don’t you get to the point?”
“All right.” She stared up at him. “A man came to see me. He said he knew you were a rapist and he wanted the details.”
Fucking reporters. “I bet your dad loved that.”
“Dad died two years ago. It’s just me now.”
Damn it.
He wouldn’t tell her he was sorry. Her dad had made his life hell.
“I didn’t understand who the guy was. But he seemed gleeful about the possibility of you being a rapist. Even after I told him he was wrong, that...” She swallowed hard. “That I’d lied. He kept insisting. So after he left I looked you up. For years I’ve tried not to think about you, about what I’d done.”
“Ditto.” He’d blocked Lea and the accusations the best he could—but they’d never really been far from his thoughts.
How did a man shake off the charge of rapist?
She bumped her shoulder to his again. “It’s not much, but I can tell you about him. The man who came to see me, I mean. I know he thought himself anonymous, believing the lie and assuming I’d shore it up for him. He wasn’t pleased when I refused. When he finally left, I watched him and got the make of his car and his license plate number. And I can describe him to you.”
Excitement sparked down deep inside Armie, chasing off some of the bleak acceptance. Maybe he could still work this out.
Maybe he could get Merissa back.
He checked his watch, realized he’d miss Merissa leaving work and decided he’d just meet up with her at her house. “Got time for a ride?”
“To where?”
“There’s a lady I need to check on—and since she’s been threatened by supposed reporters looking for the nitty-gritty on my past, it’d be nice if I could share some good news with her.”
She studied his face and agreed. “All right. I owe you at least that much.”
“If we get the people threatening her, I promise, we’ll call it even.”
For only a second, grateful tears turned Lea’s eyes liquid. But she blinked, smiled and headed for the passenger side of his truck. “You always were one of the good guys.”
* * *
MERISSA DROVE SLOWLY through the old neighborhood. Each day it seemed to stay light longer. Spring would soon turn to summer. She exhaled, looking forward to more sunshine and milder weather.
Would she get to spend the summer with Armie?
Would she be noticeably pregnant?
Lost in thought, it seemed doubly startling when headlights suddenly flashed on behind her.
Close. Far, far too close.
With the memory of the last car that had trailed her, she blindly reached for her phone. She’d call her brother and—