The Rogue
Page 1
The Rogue
Jennifer Bernard
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Jennifer Bernard
1
There ought to be a word for watching one of the hardest moments of your life play over and over on repeat. Oh yeah…there was one, Griffin thought as he slid into a seat next to his father. It had four letters and began with H.
Griffin’s very own personal hell right up there on the big flat screen in the media room at Rocky Peak Lodge.
The good news was that this viewing had an audience of one. The bad news? That audience was “Mad Max” Rockwell.
“Know how many times I’ve watched this?” Max demanded with his trademark scowl.
“I guess the classics never get old.”
“Don’t sass me. I’m in a bad mood.”
Which could describe most days of the week.
“How could that be a classic?” Max complained. “It doesn’t make any sense, no matter how many times I watch.”
Griffin stretched his legs out and tilted his head back. Too bad he didn’t have popcorn for this travesty. “Look, we’re almost at the good part.”
On the big flat screen, the anchor of Motor Sports Tonight appeared. “We all know him as Rogue, because ever since he first blasted onto the pro motocross scene, he’s done things his own way. Griffin Rockwell—always unpredictable, always one of the most entertaining riders to watch, always a magnet for attention—dropped a major bombshell tonight. At the peak of his career, in perfect health, at the age of thirty, he’s…retiring. Yes, that is correct, and we’re having trouble believing it ourselves.”
Griffin’s face, live from another studio, popped up on the screen.
“Griffin Rockwell, I almost feel like I’ve been punked. Is this some kind of elaborate psych-out you’re pulling? You don’t look like you’re ready for the old folks home.”
TV-screen-Griffin smiled. Real life Griffin recognized that smile—it was the fake one he pulled out when he wasn’t amused but had to pretend to be. “You know me, Pete, I like to keep you press people off-balance. But it’s all true. I’ve raced my last race. I’m done. I’m out. And if you think you’re surprised, you should hear what my manager has to say.”
Real-life Griffin grimaced. Make that “ex-manager.” You couldn’t really manage a career that didn’t exist anymore, after all. But after Sally’s initial meltdown, he’d promised to consider it a “break” rather than a final decision. He could always “un-retire.” That kind of thing didn’t happen very often, but he was “Rogue” so no one would be shocked if he did the unexpected.
“You haven’t publicly revealed your reason for retiring,” Pete the Sports Anchor continued. “So if you want to get anything off your chest, go ahead, man. We’re all ears.”
“Well, geez, I would, but I see that little red light flashing and I’m pretty sure that means there’s a commercial break coming.”
“Ignore the red light. This is my show. Go on, let’s have it. What would make you walk away from such a badass career?”
TV-screen Griffin arranged his face into serious lines. Griffin remembered exactly how it felt to be on the spot like that. He’d wanted to tell the real story, but he just couldn’t do it. Despite being a public figure, he craved privacy and hated having anyone know his business. Especially this part of it.
“The truth is, I’m leaving motocross for a very simple reason. To spend more time with my family,” he intoned, like some kind of asshole politician.
“You’re single, no children,” Pete helpfully pointed out.
“Kind of a side-effect of always being on a dirt bike.”
“You’re saying you’re retiring so you can get married?”
“No. No. No.” His rapid-fire panicked series of “no’s” sparked laughter amongst the camera crew. “Nothing like that. I got some, uh, family issues that need tending, and family comes first. That’s just the way it is. The motocross tour will just have to carry on without me.”
At that point he looked to the audio guy to help him get the damn mic off. He was one step from ripping it off himself, but all kinds of rumors would follow from that. Griffin “Rogue” Rockwell storms out of interview … Rockwell stonewalls, refuses to answer retirement question.
“Family issues?” Max was saying, his mane of white hair vibrating with his incredulity. “What issues? The Rockwells don’t have issues. This still isn’t making any goddamn sense.”
Seriously, why had he decided to come back to Rocky Peak? With his world crumbling around him, he’d wanted to be home. But so far he hadn’t told his family any more than he’d told Pete the Sports Anchor.
“Dad, look around. This lodge needs help. You’ve got a heart condition. Kai’s getting married. Jake’s—”
“Jake’s what?”
Griffin swung around as his younger brother strolled into the room. Jake rarely came up to the lodge because he was so busy running his pub in town. Something big must be going on to bring him up here.
“I don’t know. You must have something going on in your life that I can help with.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Jake’s unexpected seriousness brought Griffin to immediate attention. For a few years, after Mom had died, Dad had retreated into grief, and Kai had taken off, Griffin had been the main “parent” to his three younger siblings. That habit of instant concern never died. “What’s up?”
“Got a big favor to ask you.”
Griffin didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, I’ll sign a poster for your bar.”
Jake snorted. “I have one of those already. Everyone wants to throw darts at it now.”
“See?” Max demanded. “You used to be Rocky Peak’s biggest star. Now you’re a dartboard.”
Griffin grimaced as he caught Jake’s eye. Jake hadn’t pressed him on his decision to quit. No one had, but he knew they were all curious. “How quickly they turn,” he said lightly, as if it didn’t matter at all.
Which was only partly true. He didn’t mind leaving the spotlight. He’d never particularly liked it. But he hated disappointing people.
“It’s just like when you quit the football team,” Max went on. “Star one minute, goat the next.”
Griffin’s jaw went tight and he didn’t answer that jab. Mention of his high school football team always made him tense, even so many years later. Luckily, Jake stepped in.
“Greatest of all time,” he told Max. “That’s what Goat stands for, and that’s Griffin. Anyone disagrees, I’ll confiscate their darts.”
Gratefully, Griffin unwound himself from his seat and stepped next to Jake. “Now that just earned you a favor. What do you need, bro?”
Jake gestured toward the hallway—apparently he didn’t want Max to hear the favor.
Griffin squeezed his father’s s
houlder. “Be right back, Dad.” He picked up the remote and clicked away from the DVD player, to a cable movie channel. “Look, they’re playing Caddyshack. One of your favorites. That’s got to be better than the Griffin Rockwell Retirement Show.”
His father sent him a peevish look. “You came in here to change the channel?”
“No, I came in here—” He broke off, because his moment of determination had passed. He’d come in here to explain to his father why he’d retired, but he wasn’t ready to tell the full story yet. He just wasn’t.
Out in the hallway, Jake threw another curveball at him. “So, I know you just agreed to this favor sight unseen, and I’m digging it. But—”
“Whatever it is, don’t worry about it, I got your back,” Griffin said impatiently. “Don’t I always?”
“Yes, but,” Jake hesitated, “remember my new bartender, Serena? This is about her.”
Of course he remembered Serena. She’d waited on him the night he’d come back to Rocky Peak and they’d gotten off on a very wrong foot. “The hot redhead? The one who can’t stand me? What about her?”
“Aw hell. Forget it. This’ll never work.”
Griffin stared at his brother narrowly. “Is this a setup? Because yeah, you’re right, that’ll never work. She doesn’t like me.”
“No, nothing like that. I need you to be her bodyguard.”
After a long, astonished moment, Griffin tilted his head and let out a laugh so hearty it shook the rafters of the old lodge. “Does she know that?”
“Well…” Jake gave in and laughed too. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
2
Closing time at the Last Chance Pub always made Serena Riggs antsy. Inside the bar, busy slinging drinks and wisecracks, she felt safe. It was the moment when she left, stepping into the crisp air and empty streets of Rocky Peak, that put her nerves on edge.
Sometimes Jake walked her home, but she didn’t want to lean on him too much. She was a big girl and could take care of herself—or at least she had up to this point in her life. So she’d armed herself with a can of bear spray, figuring it must work on people too, and lived on constant alert.
“Serena, I’m glad you’re still here. I have a problem.”
“Solutions are my superpower.” She smiled at her boss, who was truly a doll in man’s clothing. To her certain knowledge, a good twenty-five percent of the female customers at the Last Chance had a secret crush on Jake. Not her—they were tailor-made to be great friends. He’d been a lifesaver since she’d come to this tiny mountain outpost. But that was as far as it would ever go. “How can I save your fine ass today?”
He rolled his eyes at her compliment, which was completely sincere. She was an artist, after all, and knew an impeccable physique when she saw one. “I have to go away for a few days.”
“Ooh, mysterious. Anything romantic going on?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s a…reunion, I guess you could say.”
That sounded mysterious too. But since he obviously didn’t want to say more, she didn’t push it. That’s how she and Jake rolled and why they were able to be such good friends and coworkers. They gave each other space. “Nice. So you want me to run the bar while you’re gone? I can do that. Happy to help.”
“You mean, happy to be in charge?” he said dryly as he picked up a bin of dirty glasses to take to the back.
“Exactly.” She grinned at him. “You’re actually the only boss I’ve ever gotten along with. I’m an alpha dog, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that from the way you boss around my customers.”
She gave a little ironic curtsy. “You’re welcome. Don’t you worry about a thing, I got it covered.”
“I know you do. But it’s not that, it’s something else.”
After picking up a load of empty bottles, she followed him into the kitchen. “Now I’m curious. What then?”
He put down the tray of glasses, which clinked against each other. “I don’t want to have to worry about you while I’m gone.”
“Oh.” She dumped the bottles into the bin of recyclables. “Really, you’d worry? That’s sweet, Jake. But not necessary.”
He fixed stern gray-green eyes on her. “Nice try, but that’s not going to cut it. We made a deal. ”
She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Both of them ached equally from the long night of waiting tables. Jake was the only person in Rocky Peak who knew her reason for coming here. Since he was a bartender and had access to all the local gossip, she’d decided to trust him. She’d sat at this very bar one night and explained to him that she was following the long-cold trail of her missing father. It had brought her here, to this little mountainous dot on the map. And then the trail had disappeared.
Completely.
She’d begged Jake to hire her so she could keep her ears open for more information. What better place than the local watering hole to pick up gossip? He’d offered her a temporary job as a waitress and backup bartender. She’d asked a few questions, focusing on the locals who’d lived in Rocky Peak for a long time. Then someone had left a nasty note on her windshield.
“Shut up and go home,” the note had said. “Or you will pay.”
Two days later another note had appeared in her coat pocket. “Get out of Rocky Peak while you can,” it read, along with a rough drawing of a woman with a noose around her neck.
When she’d shown them to Jake, he’d freaked out and told her the only way she could stay on was if she promised to let him play guard dog. Since then, she’d gotten one more nastygram—someone had left a similar drawing on a napkin at the bar, with the words, “Go away, bitch.”
She could handle nasty notes, as long as it didn’t escalate, so she hadn’t shown that one to Jake.
“All quiet on the western front lately. I think you can go away for a few days without worrying.”
Jake began popping glasses into the dishwasher. It was almost amusing to see such a fit guy filling a dishwasher with those big manly hands. Jake was so damn attractive, it was almost too bad they didn’t have any special sparks between them. “Yeah, sorry, that’s not possible. It’s the responsible boss in me. Never goes away.”
“Okay, then what do you want me to do? Aside from getting a gun, which I’m still not comfortable with. Someone with my temper should not be handling firearms.”
“No, not that. I completely agree.”
She made a face at him. Truth was, she had been tempted to get a weapon. She still might, if she felt it was necessary. Occasionally she eyed the hunting knives displayed in one of the storefronts she passed on her way home. A nice solid knife strapped to her hip—that idea appealed to her aesthetic sense more than a gun. “Then what? A bodyguard?”
His handsome face lit up. “Exactly. You’re a genius!”
“No. No I’m not. It was a silly, dumb—”
“It’s perfect. My brother Griffin could use a distraction. This is for him, really. My dad is driving him crazy up at the lodge.”
Serena waved her hands, as if she could erase those words from the air. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was joking about the bodyguard. Absolutely one hundred percent not necessary. Especially him.”
Jake straightened up and scowled at her. All his easygoing charm drained away. “Especially Griffin? What’s wrong with Griffin?”
Oops. Her usual tact and diplomacy showing its non-existent face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to denigrate your brother in any way. But he’s, you know … well, he has a reputation.”
Everyone in Rocky Peak talked about Griffin Rockwell as if he were some kind of god—especially the girls.
“Are you going to believe rumors or his own brother? Griffin is solid gold through and through. He’s tough as hell. He can drive anything on wheels. He’s got nerves of fucking steel. His mental concentration is incredible.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sure Griffin is all of those things. But he’s also a�
��well, kind of a player. You have to admit that.”
“I admit that women find him attractive. But he’s not a player. He’s too busy to be a player. Do you know how much work it takes to achieve the things he has? He’s been in the top ten for the past five years. That’s phenomenal.”
“Top ten in that weird dirt bike race thing, where they get all muddy and…” She broke off at the thunderous look on Jake’s face. “What I mean is, that’s amazing. I’m sure he’s incredible. But what kind of bodyguard experience does he have? And why would he want to be some kind of half-assed bodyguard anyway? What top ten playboy motocross racer would be?
“I trust Griffin,” Jake said simply. “With anything and anyone.”
Quite an endorsement. “You didn’t tell him about—”
“No. I’m leaving that up to you. But you can trust him.”
Maybe other people could, but Serena had no intention of doing so. Trust didn’t come easily to her. In fact, she would probably have no trouble driving Griffin away. Driving men away was one of her specialties.
“So are we cool?” Jake continued. “Because I don’t want to have to worry while I’m gone. Don’t forget our deal.”
She smiled sweetly at him. “We’re cool. You don’t have to worry. And truly, I’m so grateful that you care.”
She rested the box of dirty bottles on the edge of the recycling container. Dumping them all at once was so satisfying. She loved the crash and shatter of all that glass.
“And you’ll be nice to Griffin,” Jake added. “That’s a requirement. He’s going through a rough time.”