Center Mass

by Lani Lynn Vale

I snorted. “Wasn’t how I expected mine to go, either. At least I don’t have to work in the morning. I can see this as being a really long night.”

  He turned, crowding me close and winked. “I can spend it with you.”

  I blushed, feeling the hard line of his body now that I was more aware.

  And my thoughts went right back to where they were earlier. Hot and needy.

  Then, while my inhibitions were clouded, he kissed me.

  And I’d never felt anything more exciting in my life.

  “Um, no. I don’t think so. But thanks anyway.”

  Chapter 8

  There’s bitchy, and then there’s a bitch. They’re two different things. Trust me.

  -Truth

  Reese

  Men fucking sucked.

  I hit the punching bag with a closed fist, swinging it eight inches forward.

  When it swung back, I hit it again, and again.

  “Stupid.” Punch. “Fucking.” Punch. “Men.” Punch.

  I kept at it until my arms resembled the consistency of a limp noodle, and my arms wouldn’t raise up at my command anymore.

  That’s when I started on the knee strikes, and kicks. Repeating the process on both legs, over and over again, until the oxygen was heaving in and out of my lungs like a steam engine.

  Sweat was pouring down my face, and into my eyes, burning them.

  Swiping my arm up over my eye, I wiped off the sweat and decided I wasn’t tired enough.

  There was no way I’d be able to sleep tonight if I was still able to walk.

  Not after the day I’d had.

  My stupid ex.

  He sure knew how to ruin my life.

  He’d done it quite a few times already.

  Today’s conversation was no different.

  ***

  Three hours earlier

  He showed up unannounced, of course on his designated weekend, and knocked on my front door.

  I hadn’t told him where we were moving to. He’d changed his number, and I’d had no way to contact him to tell him where we were going.

  So he either had to have contacted my family for the new address, or he had to have greased some palms to get the information.

  My bet was on the latter.

  Weston Bryant was a Casanova of epic proportions. Otherwise he’d have never gotten into my pants.

  “Can we talk?” He asked, not even bothering to ask where Rowen was.

  I nodded and stepped outside, slipping out the door so he couldn’t see in.

  I never allowed Weston inside our house.

  It was a happy place, and I didn’t want his stench inside of it. Even if it was only mental.

  “Sure.” I said warily. “What’s up?”

  “I’m filing for joint custody of Rowen,” he said without preamble.

  I blinked at him stupidly for a few seconds before I could get my mouth to work.

  “What do you mean you’re filing for custody?” I asked quietly.

  He scowled at me. “It means that I’m tired of having to tell your lawyers how much money I make. They’re actually going to make me pay this time. And all the back pay I owe. They’re holding my checks. I can’t live on no money. And my wife wants to get to know her step kid.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “You’re married?” I gasped.

  He glared at me, offended that I had such a reaction to the thought of him finding anybody.

  “Yes.” He snapped. “For four months. We even have a baby due.”

  That made my heart hurt. Not only for Rowen, but for that innocent child who had to have this asshole as a father.

  Hopefully the mother was more reliable than Weston was; it was more than obvious that she wasn’t smart. Otherwise she wouldn’t have married Weston.

  “But Weston, I didn’t file anything with the lawyers. I never said a word. This is the first time I’ve heard anything about holding your pay,” I said nervously.

  If he filed for custody, he could win.

  He was married and had a family. I didn’t.

  And he was charming, where I was anything but.

  “Well you sure did something, ‘cause they’re taking my checks. It’s ruining my life,” he yelled.

  I backed away from him, surprised at the outburst. Out of all the times I’d been around my ex, I’d never heard him raise his voice. He didn’t need to. He was a sweet talker. His silver tongue got him everything he wanted.

  And Weston yelling was an intimidating sight.

  Weston was tall. Nearly six foot three. Although he wasn’t bulky with muscle like Luke was, he wasn’t a slouch, either.

  So for him to crowd me and yell in my face like he was doing now, I started to get nervous, like any smart woman would do.

  “I’m sorry, Weston. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t file those charges. But you know you wouldn’t like Rowen staying with you. That’s why you only ever keep her for the day instead of overnight, remember? If you file for custody, you’ll have her half the time,” I tried.

  He scowled. “Well, starting tonight, I’m going to take her with me every other weekend like I’m allowed. We’ll see about the rest when it happens. Where is Rowen?”

  Every cell in my body screamed at me not to allow her to go, but there was a court order that said Weston had Rowen every other weekend, and each Wednesday afternoon. If he wanted her, I had no legal recourse to keep her. Not unless Weston terminated his rights.

  Which I should know, because I’d researched the hell out of it, not wanting her to go with him. I’d been told by a lawyer friend of mine that if I tried to keep her away from her father, I’d be held in contempt of court, which would not look good if Weston started doing what he’d just threatened to do.

  ***

  Which led me to now, hours later, trying to work out into oblivion.

  That was the only way I’d get my mind to turn off.

  I had a billion things swirling through my mind, and I wished it wasn’t a holiday weekend. Otherwise I’d be able to call and talk with a lawyer tomorrow, instead of four days from now.

  Slipping the gloves from my hands, I tossed them on the freezer beside the punching bag and slipped through the garage door, and then out the gate.

  It was dark, and I was glad. I was crying, and I didn’t know how to stop.

  Once my feet hit the pavement of the road beside my house, I started to run, no real designation in mind.

  I just knew this was about to turn into a disaster. A huge, clusterfuck of epic proportions.

  There was no way I could let Weston have her half the time. I wouldn’t survive.

  Not to mention she’d have to go to two different schools in two different states.

  Would they make me move back to Shreveport if he was able to get half custody?

  Would he have to move here?

  Would the judge make it to where half the year she was with me, and half the year she was with him?

  That sounded god-awful.

  I’d never been away from her for more than a day at a time since she was born five years ago.

  I kept my pace, running hard, full out. Feeling the burn stretch my muscles.

  Somehow, I wound up in town, nearly two and a half miles from my house.

  I kept my pace, running along the sidewalk until I wound up at a dead end in front of the playground that I took Rowen to on the weekends.

  That’s when I stopped. Or more like collapsed.

  My knees hurt, letting me know I wasn’t eighteen anymore, and doing this to my body wasn’t a good thing.

  I sat on the park bench, bending forward until my elbows rested on my knees, gasping for breath.

  I couldn’t tell if it was because I was tired, or because I was crying. Either way, though, I was being really loud.

  I hadn’t been aware that anyone was there with me until I heard the crunch of the pea gravel under the soles of someone’s feet.

  I whirled, coming face to face with th
e man I’d seen respond during the movie theater fiasco a few weeks ago.

  Nico, is what Luke had called him.

  He looked no less fierce tonight than he had then. In fact, in the twilight sun, he looked even more intimidating, and I decided that the name Nico suited him perfectly well.

  “Hey,” I said, wiping my tears.

  He never took his eyes off of me. “Yo. You okay?”

  I nodded, embarrassed that I’d had the police called on me. “Yeah. Been a rough day.”

  I stood to leave, and walked past him, or tried to. His arm shot out and stopped me once I made it to the chain link fence.

  “Where are you going?” He asked.

  His hand felt warm against my skin, and I realized that it’d gotten chilly in the last half hour since the sun started to set.

  “Home?” I asked questioningly.

  He scowled at me. “I’ll take you.”

  I don’t know why I went with him so easily. All I could say is that I’d had a long ass day, and I was tired of fighting it. To be truthful, it was nice to have someone to talk to that didn’t care if I cried or not. My family would’ve asked questions, and I just didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet, anyway.

  He tilted his head towards the cruiser that was parked at the street behind me, and I shrugged.

  My legs did feel noodle-ish.

  Except when I got in the car with him, he didn’t take me home. He took me to the station.

  “This isn’t my house,” I observed as he pulled up to a back door I’d never seen before.

  He gave me a level look, but didn’t say anything.

  Instead hopping out and punching a few keys into a keypad at the back door.

  When he gave me a look, I ascertained that he wanted me to follow him.

  I looked down at the black capri pants and sleeveless white t-shirt that declared me a ‘Beta Kappa” and shrugged.

  I was curious, though, where he was taking me.

  And I had my answer short moments later when he led me through a maze of hallways, stopping at a door that I couldn’t quite catch the name on before I was unceremoniously shoved into a room.

  The door slammed behind me, and I stared in shock at Luke, whose eyebrows were raised high above his eyes in surprise.

  “H-hey,” I said.

  Chapter 9

  Scream. Yell. Pinch. Kick. All of that is fine. Just don’t cry. If you cry, then I start feeling punchy. And nobody likes it when I start feeling punchy.

  -Luke to Reese

  Luke

  The scanner at my desk squawked, and I listened as a call went out about a woman sounding distressed in a park.

  That one should be fun.

  Not.

  However, anything would be better than sitting on my ass like I was doing now.

  “I’m beyond fucking tired of listening to this. Either let me get back out there, or not. But make something happen. I’m tired of being in limbo,” I spat through clenched teeth.

  The IA officer looked at me sternly for a few long moments before she started to leave.

  She stopped once she had the door open, looking over her shoulder at me.

  “I’m not your enemy, Officer Roberts. I’m here to make sure all is well. You’d do well to remember that. You’ve been reinstated effective immediately,” she said primly, then left the room.

  I gaped at the closed door, surprised that she’d reinstated me so quickly.

  I’d spent the last week working a fucking desk, and my nerves were frayed.

  I hated being behind a desk. I was an action person.

  Although getting off in time to get my daughter from school had been nice, I wasn’t the type of person to sit idle and do nothing all day.

  I was the get out and experience something different everyday type of person.

  If I’d learned anything this last week, it was that I did not want to have the chief’s job. Not now, not ever.

  I was seriously tempted to tell him I didn’t want to be acting assistant chief anymore, either. But I knew if it wasn’t me, it’d be nobody. And I wouldn’t leave the chief in a bind like that.

  My desk phone rang, and I was just about to answer it when my door was opened, and a very freaked out looking Reese was pushed through my door.

  I saw the look of satisfaction on Nico’s face as he shoved her in, and I made a mental note to beat his ass later.

  What the fuck?

  “Uhh,” Reese said, looking at me, to my phone, and then back to me. “You gonna get that?”

  My eyes didn’t leave her lower half for a bit, mesmerized by the tightness of her pants, and what they did for her legs.

  The top wasn’t much to look at, but it showed off every inch of her sexy, curvy body.

  She looked good. Sweaty, but good.

  Then the tear stained face, and the redness I’d mistaken for a blush finally penetrated my brain, and I stood.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, standing quickly.

  She shrugged.

  Was her daughter okay? Was it her mom? Her sister?

  Why the hell was I so worried?

  It felt like a punch to the gut to see her face so haunted.

  I walked to her slowly, rounding the desk as she crowded back against the door.

  Her hair was in a low ponytail at the base of her neck, hanging over one shoulder.

  When I reached forward and grabbed her hand, she hissed in pain.

  Looking down, I saw that her knuckles were scraped and bleeding.

  “What happened?” I asked again, much more calmly than I felt.

  Her head hung for and for an instant, I thought she wasn’t going to answer me. Then the next words made my blood boil.

  “My ex wants custody of Rowen,” she whispered quietly.

  Her head still hung, and I instantly understood her tears.

  She loved her little girl like crazy.

  I didn’t have to spend but thirty seconds in the presence of her and her child to know that.

  Hell, I’d even done some asking around at her mother’s recovery party.

  A party that I’d been forced to attend because my sister had deemed it necessary.

  Reese had changed her whole life so Rowen could have a better life. So she could be home in time for her to get off of school.

  Not once had I heard any mention of the ex. I’d only assumed that he wasn’t in the picture, but apparently, he was.

  “Look at me,” I said.

  She lifted her face to my gaze, and my heart started to hurt. “You want me to arrest him?”

  She burst out laughing, which was exactly what I’d wanted to happen.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  I shook my head and took her hand, pulling her to the seat in front of my desk.

  “I have a few more things I need to take care of, then I’ll take you out to eat,” I said as she sat. “Tell me everything.”

  ***

  “You wanna come to my place for a few seconds?” I asked as we walked out to my SUV. “I need to go change. It gets uncomfortable when people recognize me because I arrested them. At least out of the uniform I’m not as recognizable.”

  She nodded. “Sure. I need to change, too. At least my shirt, anyway.”

  I looked her over. “You’re about my sister’s size. I have some of her old shirts at my place if you’re interested. Or we can stop by your house. Whatever you want to do.”

  She stopped at the passenger side door, and I unlocked it for her.

  I was already about halfway through with helping her in the car when I realized I had my hand on her head.

  “Shit,” I said, removing my hand. “It’s habit.”

  She was giggling quietly when I closed the door behind her.

  Shaking my head, I rounded the SUV and got in.

  The powerful engine rumbled to life, and I backed out of my spot next to the chief’s.

  I guess that was one of the perks of being the assistant chief. The close par
king spots.

  Nobody else would dare park in my spot.

  They’d tried once and I’d moved their car. With my wench.

  Then I’d booted the car so they couldn’t drive until they came to see me. Then had apologized.

  It’d been hilarious.

  Of course, I hadn’t let them know that I found it funny, but it had been.

  “I’ll wear one of your sister’s shirts,” she answered as she watched the town go by through her window.

  “Where would you like to go?” I asked, sitting my elbow on the console between our seats.

  When I encountered her arm already there, I followed her hand down and clasped them together.

  She held on tight.

  Her hand felt tiny inside my own.

  Her hand was soft. Mine was rough.

  Hers skinny and fragile. Mine strong and sturdy.

  Her hand fit perfectly into mine. As if it was made for me to hold.

  She rubbed her thumb back and forth on my own as she spoke. “I’m not really familiar with Kilgore, yet. I’ve gone to that bakery I saw your friend and you at. And a place called The Back Porch. I haven’t even gone out of the city yet. I’ve heard there are a lot of places to eat in Longview and the surrounding area.”

  Longview was about a thirty minute drive from Kilgore.

  In the time I’d lived in the area, I’d only been to Longview a handful of times.

  “They have a nice place down town called the Rotten Rooster,” I said teasingly.

  She giggled. “That sounds perfect for my mood right now. Let’s do it.”

  Shaking my head, I took the turn that led to my road when a car in front of me ran the stop sign, barreling down the road going at least thirty over the speed limit.

  “Fuck,” I sighed and flipped on my lights. “Hold on to your shorts.”

  Then I accelerated, flipping on the lights and siren, taking the same road the speeding car had. Then called it in.

  “Dispatch, this is Unit 6. I’m on Stone Road going east towards 349. I have a 10-75,” I said into the radio that hung on the dash.

  “10-4, Unit 6,” Dispatch answered.

  I hung up the radio and placed both hands on the wheel, catching up to the car easily.

  I looked down at my radar, noting that we were going eighty nine in a sixty.