Big Jock : Bad Boy Sports Romance

by Vanessa Kinney

Not my life.

  “None of the information is stored in the cameras. It seems like they send it out through your wireless internet. He probably has everything saved somewhere.” King sits down next to me, draping a hand over me and pulling me in.

  Great! So the fucker can watch me whenever he wants. Even if we have all his damn cameras.

  I pick up one of the cameras from the table and hurl it across the room. It hits the wall next to the art frame King put up days ago, making it fall to its side. The camera shatters into pieces and King doesn’t say anything.

  I shudder at the idea that these things have been watching me all around the house.

  Every time I’m in the bathroom. When I spend nights watching my favorite reruns. Even when I take some time to myself. A shiver rolls through me and I push away King. I regret it the second his body leaves mine, but I can’t take this anymore.

  “I can’t be here right now. I don’t feel safe.” I grab my purse and walk toward the door. King beats me to it, pressing his palm against it. I shoot a look his way that I’m sure would kill a tiger in its tracks. I can’t have him holding me in here. Not now.

  “We can’t leave.” I’m about to protest when he grabs hold of my wrist to calm me. “Not yet at least. I’ve got Cat making her way here right now. We need to hear everything that she found out.” His hand moves up my arm and caresses me. He smiles for a moment before he looks at the living room table. His eyes grow cold and he squeezes the side of my arm a little too hard. “We’ll catch the fucker. Don’t you worry.”

  I nod at his words. I walk toward the kitchen and pour myself another cup of coffee. With a shaking hand, I bring the cup to my mouth and close my eyes, trying to just remember the fun I had last night.

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

  King rushes to my side, his eyes looking out the kitchen window at me. “What is it?”

  The mug hits the counter top hard, drops of coffee flying everywhere. “He knows.”

  King turns his head to the side like a confused puppy. His upper lip rises a little and gives way to one of his canine teeth. If I wasn’t having the worst realization yet, I might have leaned over and kissed his confusion away.

  “That night with the axe. He must have gotten angry when he saw us kissing on my bed. And I’m almost sure he must have seen last night. What if?” I stop myself and shake my head.

  “He won’t be to happy about last night,” King finishes my thought. He turns on the heel of his foot and makes his way back to my bedroom. When he comes out, I can see the gleam of the pistol in hand before he puts it in the crevice of his back. “Just in case,” he says when he sees me staring at it.

  “What do you think he’ll do?” With an uneasy hand, I bring the hot black coffee back to my mouth. I need this right now. I can’t handle anything else.

  “Well, if he brings a axe to the door when we make out, I want to be ready after he sees what I did to you last night.” He smirks at me and eyes me for a moment. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s picturing me naked right now.

  There’s a warm, bubbly feeling in my stomach and I hold back laughter. “This isn’t a good time for that.” Although, I can’t help but rub my legs together and look down below his waist.

  “Is it ever a good time?” he asks, slinking across. He throws his hands out in front of me as he strides toward me. He walks up to me and does a little spin before his hand grabs hold of my back and pulls me close. Coffee stains mark his white t-shirt, but he doesn’t care.

  His hand glides across my face and moves aside the hair. My mouth opens wide, ready for his descending lips. When he’s inches away from making me lose my damn mind, there’s a knock at the door.

  Both of our heads shoot to the door and wait. There’s another knock.

  King holds a finger to his lips and lets go of me, his hand reaching for the gun at his belt loop. With it in hand and finger on the trigger, he looks into the peephole of the door.

  I’m frozen in place until he lets out a sigh of relief. The gun goes behind his back and he swings the door wide open.

  Cat struts inside, a folder under her armpit. “You’re not going to believe what I found out about this asshole. I need something to drink before I can break it all down,” she says, shaking her head and dropping the folder onto the kitchen counter-top.

  She grabs a mug off a hanger and pours herself some coffee. She opens the fridge for the creamer and pours herself half of it, along with a few cubes of sugar which swim like tiny icebergs before melting. In one chug she downs the coffee and slams the mug on the counter like she was at the local bar.

  “I needed that.” She makes her way toward the folder. She opens it wide and a bunch of papers and photos fly across the counter top. “You’re not going to be too happy about this.” Cat takes one of the pieces of paper from the pile of folders and hands it over to me.

  It’s a photocopy of a student ID. The name of the local college is in the right corner with a picture of Tommy in the opposite one.

  “Is that him? The guy who did your locks?” she asks.

  It’s him all right. The only difference is that he was maybe a couple years younger in the ID. Like he had taken the picture when he first started college. The Tommy that fixed my locks was rougher around the edges.

  “Pretty much.” I set the photo down and feel my stomach churning. I almost want to throw up.

  King turns the picture toward us, tapping his finger on the paper. “How did you manage this kind of pull?”

  “I got my ways. Don’t you worry about that.” She winks at each of us before taking out the next paper. “It appears like Tommy’s interest with you started about a year ago. Back when you gave a couple art lecturers.”

  King turns and looks at me.

  I think back to those nights. Back when I first came to Portland and Jean thought it would be a good idea for me to do some guest lectures at the local college. To get business churning for his gallery and myself.

  “I don’t remember him there,” I say. That’s the truth.

  “Well, we know he has a way with hiding himself. But he definitely remembers you.” Cat places a piece of paper in front of me. I take it and King comes next to me, his hand resting on my shoulder as he reads over it.

  It’s the attendance sheet for one of my guest lectures. Half way at the bottom of the list is Tommy’s name. He wasn’t as careful as he thought.

  “We can get him,” Cat announces, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. She opens it off the counter, leaving a slight chip in the gray slate stone. I might have been angry with her. If she hadn’t just given me the best news of the day.

  I look the sheet over and see my name at the top of the page. I could almost picture that night. Me standing in front of at least one hundred students talking about my work. It was one of my proudest nights before I became a success with Jean’s help.

  Oh shit!

  The piece of paper falls to the ground like an autumn leaf. I rush to my living room and grab for my purse. King’s right on my heels.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Jean!” I shout, already punching in his number.

  One ring. Two ring. Three ring.

  Come on, Jean. For once in your life pick up the damn phone.

  “Cami? Is everythi-” Jean’s voice breaks through on the other side. He sounds out of breath. Probably had to run outside the gallery to answer the phone.

  “Jean, where are you right now?” I interrupt him half way.

  “At the gallery. Why? What’s the matter?” There’s a little panic in his voice. His New Orleans accent bleeds through a little more than usual.

  “Oh, thank god,” I answer, dropping down on the couch behind me. “I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. We got some new information on the guy who’s stalking me.

  “Who is it?” he asks, almost making me pull the phone a good couple inches away from my ear.

  I fill Jean in on everything. When I fin
ish, I can see him nodding to my words. I know that the next couple words will be the hardest.”

  “Jean, I need you to close down for a couple days. At least, until all of this blows over.” I bite down on my thumb-nail. If anything happens to Jean in all this, I know for a fact that I won’t be able to forgive myself.

  “Not a problem,” he shoots back. I can practically hear the jingling of his keys as he slams the front door of the gallery. “I’ll be at your place in less than ten minutes.”

  “No, don’t do that,” I shout back into the phone. “It isn’t safe here.” But I’m met with silence on the other end. I try to call him back a couple more times, before I shake my head to Cat and King. “He’s on his way here.”

  The last thing that I want is for us to all be in the same place. Gathering like this would only benefit someone crazy like Tommy. The further apart Jean is from me, the better it is for the both of us.

  King swears under his breath and Cat drinks the rest of her beer.

  Chapter 16

  I pace around the living room, constantly checking out the street. It’s been well over ten minutes since Jean hung up on me. Every car that turns onto my streets gets my hopes up. Only for them to be dashed away when it passes the house.

  Every possible bad thought has crept inside my head in the last ten minutes. I want to remain positive. To think that Tommy would never go after someone else, but there’s not much I can count on. He proved that he’s pretty crazy when he swung that axe at my door.

  Meanwhile, King’s been putting in favors all over the city. He’s only been here a couple months, but he already has clout with the locals. Probably more out of respect for his reputation in New York and from the last race.

  He slams his cell on the table and runs a hand through his hair. His chiseled arms glow from the moonlight behind us. I hate to be checking him out in this situation, but I can’t really help myself. I’ll have to reward him big time after this whole ordeal.

  Who knows? Maybe a vacation for the two of us.

  I roll my eyes at the thought. How quickly things change in less than 24 hours.

  This morning, I was still unsure of what our relationship was. But now, after everything that’s happened… Since Cat’s shown us what she found and him calling favors , I see how much he cares about me. And not just me. Jean as well.

  He’s willing to throw all caution into the wind to protect me. Even after all these years apart, it feels like he’s never stopped loving me. That he doesn’t want that one mistake to keep us apart for the rest of his life. And I would be lying if he isn’t winning me over more and more with time.

  I walk over to him and press my forehead against one of his arms. He strokes his fingers through my hair and kisses the top of my forehead.

  Cat takes another swig of her third beer. She’s got nothing else to do. She also figured that it would be safer for her to stick around here until Jean gets to my apartment. Just in case Tommy decides to do something insane.

  “How you doing?” he asks, holding his lips against my forehead. He runs a hand through my long hair and rests it on my shoulder.

  I push up against it. “I just need Jean to get here already. The longer he stays out, the crazier my thoughts get.” I move my head underneath his chin and bring his hands up to my waist.

  Why is this all happening to me? Why can’t I just have a normal, boring life without all this shit?

  I let out a sigh and look around the small apartment. It’s taken a couple weeks, but we finally have most of it put back together. There are paintings on the wall, beside the one I knocked down earlier, and everything is in place.

  For a moment it feels like we are one big happy family. Besides the mounting pressure that comes with every passing minute that Jean doesn’t show up. I’m about to lean over and give King a kiss on the cheek when I see a red fire out of the corner of my eyes.

  I push King away as the orb crashes through my window. I hit the other side of the living room hard and get the air knocked out of me. Before I can do anything else, everything around me is in flames.

  “King!” I yell, but I can’t see anything. The fire spreads across the floor and I bring my hands up to cover my eyes.

  Sweat pours out of every pore in my body and I start to cough. A plume of dark smoke rises to the ceiling and sinks into my throat.

  I try to lift myself off the ground and navigate through the blaze. With each step that I take, a new trail of fire blocks my way. It’s not long before I’m forced into a corner, my painting hanging behind me. The fire nips at my toes and I cry out in pain.

  “King!”

  I drop to the ground, underneath the dark rising smoke. The fire inches toward me and I push my body as far as it goes. None of this is making any sense. I close my eyes and try to think of a way out.

  That’s when the dark smoke around me swirls away and a black leather coat rushes at me. Scared, I push against the wall with my hands out.

  “Cami!” King shouts, his hands gripping hold of my waist.

  I can’t answer him. There’s too much smoke going down my lungs. He lifts me off the ground and holds his favorite leather riding coat in front of him as he rushes through the flames.

  The smell of burning hair fills my nostrils, but for the most part I’m safe in his arms. Somehow, through the darkness and fire, King gets us out into the hallway. He lays me down on the ground and presses his palms on his knees. The leather jacket singed and lying on the ground next to him. He coughs a couple times and I follow his lead, trying to get out all the smoke toxins out of my body.

  “What happened?” I ask. Each breath that I take, it feels like my lungs are going to explode. Almost like they are not expecting the fresh air, and had gotten used to the smoke.

  “Molotov,” Cat coughs behind me. I turn around and throw a frail smile. I’m glad that she was able to make it out. “Tommy.”

  I nod. I’m not surprised at all. Nothing he does surprises me anymore.

  King takes me by the wrist and pulls me down the stairs. I hobble along after him, counting the steps all the way down. I take a peek over my shoulder and see the torrent of flames that escapes my front door.

  Just when I was getting everything back to normal for the third time. It all goes up in flames. Literally.

  Outside, the cold Portland air cools our damp bodies. It isn’t long before all of us are shivering. King throws his jacket on me and I pull it down over my shoulders.

  King’s got a couple of burn marks on his shoulders and forearms. Cat’s hair is a little bit fried at the end, but beside that nothing else to serious that I can see.

  I pat away the soot of my knees and give myself a look over. The tip of my socks are burnt, giving way to red little nubs. I can’t feel it for now, probably because of all the adrenaline. But, beside all of that, I was all right.

  Boom.

  A gust of wind blows from behind us. King throws his hands over me and moves us into the middle of the street as the apartment explodes. There goes the gas line. I would have shut it had I known that this was going to happen. If we’d been up there for even a minute longer, we’d be toast.

  Behind us, there’ s a screech of tires. King grabs both Cat and I, pushing us out of the way. He uses the force to falls backward as van speeds past us. Inches away from hitting any one of us.

  The van stops at the end of the street and does a U-turn. The high beams blind us all for a moment, but we don’t need to see the markings on the van to know who it is.

  “Get to the Camaro,” King shouts. He points to the other side of the street.

  I bolt for his Camaro as the squealing of tires sounds behind me. My heart races and for a moment I feel like Frogger from the video game. Only if Tommy hits me, I won’t be able to come back and play another round.

  The van zips so close to me that I can feel the wind blow passed me. King opens the door and throws Cat and I inside. He flies over his hood, leaving a nice little dent in it, and sta
rts his engines.

  “Let’s see what this fucker’s got.” He peels down the street after Tommy. I, on the other hand, manage to barely get my seatbelt on before King rams the back of Tommy’s van.

  I recoil forward and hit my head on the dash.

  Lights out.

  Chapter 17

  “Camilla!” someone shouts next to me, hands pulling me back into my seat. My head feels like it’s split in two. I manage to look in front and brace myself as Tommy reverses his van into us.

  King grabs the clutch and pulls it into reverse. Tommy drives backward, chasing until King swerves into a nearby alley, sending Tommy whizzing by and slamming into a parked car. The crumple of metal sends me shivering.

  “Are you okay?” Cat’s head appears by my side and looks me over. Her hands hold me back in my chair as I slowly regain myself.

  “I think so. Didn’t expect that.” I look at King, who is turning down the street. Behind us, the lights from Tommy’s car blind everything inside the muscle car. Cat lets go and drives her body back into the seat as Tommy gives us another push on the back of the bumper.

  This time I’m ready. I have my hands out in front of me and my palms hit the front of the dashboard. The wind gets knocked out of me, but beside that, everything else is fine.

  King’s swerving in and out of traffic trying to out-maneuver the rusty van behind us. I’m surprised at how well Tommy is able to keep up with us.

  He blares down on the horn, attracting the attention of every car and pedestrian on the block. Several people are pulling out their phones.

  Tommy gives us a couple of more taps before King presses down on the gas pedal. He whizzes in and out of traffic. It doesn’t take long before the roar of the engine pushes us forward and we are at least two blocks ahead of Tommy. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tommy turn down a street and vanish from sight.

  “He turned back,” I say. I look over at King, whose hand is still throttling through the shifts with his foot on the gas. I rest my hand on top of his and he looks at me before my words seem to finally register with him. Once he’s in race mode, it takes a little bit of willpower to get him out of it.