Protective Instinct

by Tricia Lynne

  “Bullshit. You could have asked me for the moon and stars, and I would have found a way to give them to you. I would have emptied my bank accounts, given you the shirt off my goddamned back. I would have left football for you, just to stay here. With you.” His head sagged forward on his big shoulders. “I tried.” The words came out soft. So soft, I wasn’t sure I’d heard them right.

  “You what?” Circling around, I tried to see his face. Everything in my body wanted to reach out and touch him. But I couldn’t. Not when he thought I did this to him.

  He steepled his hand over his nose. “I asked for my release. When Dick told me he arranged a trade, I told him I wanted my release.”

  Pushing the folder over, I sat on the table facing him. “This is exactly why I couldn’t come to you. You’re accusing me of using you, yet you think if you could give me everything I’ve ever wanted, we’d live happily ever after. Don’t you think I know you would always wonder if I loved you for what you could give me instead of for the man you are?”

  When he didn’t respond, I knew it didn’t matter what I said. His mind was made up before I ever walked through the door.

  Shit got hard for Brody, and it was time for him to flake. Imagine that. “I always thought it would be my baggage that got in our way.” I just wanted to be done with this. I couldn’t trust a man that didn’t put his faith in me, no matter how much I loved him or how much my heart hurt. A man that would leave without hearing my side of the story? He’d written me off so easily. Taken the word of someone like my stepdad. At the first sign of trouble, he was running. Like everyone else I’d loved.

  Really, Lily? Couldn’t he say all those same things about you?

  I supposed I never really let go of my own baggage either. I guess I’d expected this moment all along.

  “Why you didn’t mention a shelter, Lily? Seems like something you’d tell someone you love. Unless he wasn’t part of your plan.” His raw voice sounded incredulous, and he had every right to be. Not because I’d used him like he thought, but because deep down, I wasn’t any more capable of checking my own shit than he was.

  With a slow shake of my head and a continuous flow of tears, I met his eyes. My voice came out choked, full of what might have been if we both weren’t so screwed up. “You’re right.”

  He searched my face, a tear tracking down his own cheek that broke my heart anew.

  “It’s only the why of it you’ve got wrong, baby.”

  I spotted the picture of us kissing through his truck window on the edge of the table, and picked it out of the pile. Held it to my chest.

  The absolute anguish in them...so conflicted, so wounded. Like CC’s eyes months before. When I’d seen her eyes while she was huddled in her kennel, I knew I could help her to trust her human. But people were a different story. They were much too complicated.

  Dogs were easier. Loyal. They never let me down the way people did. As long as I remembered the golden rule of rescue.

  Don’t let yourself get too attached, because they’d be moving on soon.

  I should have never gotten attached.

  “Brody, if you truly believe I could use you as a means to an end...” Pausing, I tried to clear the lump from my throat. “...then you don’t know me at all.”

  Steadying myself, I put my palm over his heart. Pressed my mouth to his. The salt from our tears mingled on our lips, and I allowed myself a few seconds before pulling away.

  “Lily...” He pressed his forehead to mine.

  I reached down to pat CC, who had been worried enough about her people to join the fray. After placing a kiss on her head, I whispered, “Take care of him for me, puddin’. I love you, and I love him, too.”

  Wiping my face, I stood and left, the picture in my hand.

  * * *

  The following morning, I turned in my notice at the training center. Funny that the hardest part hadn’t been leaving the dogs I taught, but the people on the other end of the leash.

  With some vacation time stored, I took a week off that Rob was happy to give me. Honestly, I needed it.

  I wasn’t doing great.

  I slept. And I slept. Then moved out to the couch to stare at the idiot box and slept some more. I also took to living off generic cereal and Blue Bell ice cream.

  My wake-up call came by way of the last person I wanted to see. My mother. When she knocked and I didn’t answer, she used her key.

  “Liliana, when was the last time you showered?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, Mom. Go fuck yourself.”

  Quicker than I could blink, she reached out and slapped my cheek. It wasn’t hard; it wouldn’t leave a print. It was meant to shock me, and it did its job. “Now listen here, girl. I know I’m not going to win any prizes for mother of the year, but I brought you into this world and you will treat me with respect. You think you’re the only one who’s ever had a rough go of it, Lily?”

  Stunned, I reached up to hold my cheek. In all my years, my mother had never laid a hand on me.

  “My own mama was a stripper and a drug addict who cared more about her next fix and her next boyfriend than her children. I will never tell you the horrors I endured in the house where I grew up. When I started up with your daddy, I wasn’t in college like he told people. I was on the pole at night and in a cheerleader’s outfit during the day because I had no other way to feed myself.”

  It was like being slapped again. My mom never talked about her life. My dad told me what little I knew, and apparently, I got the fairy princess version.

  Audrey sat on the arm of the chair. “I know you think the worst of me for marrying Richard so soon after your father died, but I loved your father, Liliana. Very deeply. Not because he provided for us, but because he was larger than life, he had an amazing heart and spirit and for whatever reason, he wanted to be with me. In the beginning, I constantly thought to myself, ‘Dear God, please don’t let him change his mind. Being in his orbit was like standing in sunshine that never set on the world.’”

  Her smile slipped away. “But the longer he played, the worse the depression got... His death broke me in a way I never expect you to understand. Every day it hurts, every day I miss him. And every day, I pray you’ll find the courage to let go of all the harm the three adults in your life did to you, so you find a love like that. I’d hoped that might be Trey, but clearly he wasn’t it, and I’m glad you saw what I didn’t and took care of yourself.”

  A sad smile touched her lips as she ran a hand over my cheek. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. For leaving you. I never wanted you to have the kind of life I did when I was your age. Can you understand that?”

  I nodded, slipped my hand into hers. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I, my love, more than you will ever know. Now, I find it perfectly acceptable to wallow for three days. I gave you a fourth, because I’ve met that young man a time or two, and Brody Shaw is... Mercy.” She fanned herself. “But it’s time to remember whose daughter you are, Liliana Costello. You’ve never hidden, never felt sorry for yourself, never wallowed in your entire life. You stand up, shake off the grass, and go back to the huddle. If there’s anybody in the whole of this city that can walk into Bulldogs headquarters and tell Dick to shove it right up his ass, day in, day out, it’s you. I’m quite sure that backbone you inherited from your father is why Richard never warmed to you.”

  A little grin flitted across her mouth. “Do you know, when your daddy was at the top of his game, and Richard was a glorified water boy, that he came on to me? This was before I got pregnant with you.”

  “No! Really?”

  She nodded. “When your father found out he’d groped me and several of the girls on the squad, Billy pinned him to a plateglass window. By his neck.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “That’s what he did, alright.” She guffawed, laughed in a way I hadn’t hear
d since before my father died. “That’s the backbone you inherited, Liliana.” She squeezed my hand.

  “Mom, did you really just tell me to rub some dirt on it?”

  “Indeed, I did.”

  After she left, I got in the shower. I took my dogs for a walk, and something occurred to me between making notes about the rescue and pulling my old anatomy books out of the attic to brush up.

  For a long time, I’d pitied Audrey because I thought she was weak.

  But there was more strength and depth to my mother than I had ever known.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Fuckstick, party of one?

  Brody

  I let the water beat on my aching neck trying to wash away the remnants of another shitty game. In fact, that’s all I’d had in Miami—one shitty game after another.

  Running my hand through my hair, I bumped the bridge of my nose and hissed. During the fourth quarter, somebody in a pile-up had taken a cheap shot and split the skin on the bridge of my nose.

  Cranking around, I tried to see the bruise on my ribcage. I understood how guys like Billy got hooked on pills. Tomorrow, I’d have to swallow enough ibuprofen to give an elephant an ulcer just to get out of bed. More bruises would come out, too. I’d feel the strains and pulls I hadn’t earlier today.

  Football held no appeal for me anymore. I was tired of all of it—the pain, the politics, feeling like I couldn’t trust anyone on or off the team.

  Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and slipped trunks and a shirt on to take my girl down to the water’s edge. I would side arm a stick into the surf—she would dash in after it and let the waves carry her back to shore for me to throw it again.

  It was peaceful. Gave me time to mull over my mistakes. The defense was out of sync, and it wasn’t their fault. It was mine. My teammates were understanding and patient, but they wanted leadership on the field, and I wasn’t giving it to them.

  Because Lily was all I thought about. I had a constant inner monologue with questions I had no answers for. What class would she be teaching right now? How were the shelter plans coming? Had any more dogs shown up, or did she have any more leads on the mill? How was Laila?

  Did she miss me? Did she still love me? And the biggest blank of all. Why? Why didn’t she tell me about the shelter? Why did it feel so real, if it wasn’t? Surly bastard that I was, I refused to contemplate the possibility of Lily getting married. It simply didn’t exist in my orbit. Complete denial.

  She’d told me I was right to be angry, but my reasons were all wrong.

  When CC came out of the water walking instead of running, I knew it was time to quit. I rinsed the saltwater off her in the footbath and filled her bowl with fresh water. Pulling another beer from the fridge, I grabbed my phone and the pictures I tortured myself with off the counter before I settled into the lounger next to CC.

  Part of me understood why Lily had gone to Dick. The dogs. What she wouldn’t do for those dogs. Hell, what I wouldn’t do for the dogs. I could see why she wouldn’t come to me for the money, too. She was afraid it would make me question her loyalty. So, what do I do? Oh, I question it anyway. But, why not tell me about the shelter if she wasn’t setting me up with Dick?

  It sure as hell wouldn’t have been out of character for Dick to lie to me about it—to manipulate me and Lily to his own purpose. If she would have just trusted me—

  Like you trusted her? I fingered the picture of us on the balcony. It was the one I came back to over and over. I hadn’t trusted her. I’d believed the worst and didn’t even ask her to explain. I just assumed she’d kicked me where it hurt the most...because that’s what people do.

  Golly, Karen, I wonder why she didn’t let you in? Maybe she held on to a little of her fear, the same as you did.

  I was right to be angry that she didn’t tell me about the shelter, but the reason she didn’t wasn’t because she cut a deal with Dick to sell me out, it was because deep down she still worried I wouldn’t be there for her.

  And that’s exactly what had happened.

  Self-fulfilling prophecy much?

  “Ah, fuck. We both held on to the bullshit.” CC lifted her head to stare at me like I was nuts. I was fairly sure my dog understood everything I said, thought I was an idiot half the time, and as such, it was her job to protect me.

  Mah humanz a doooofus.

  “It’s okay, girl. Go back to sleep. Daddy’s inner voice is an asshole, is all.”

  Still, there were so many holes. What about the fiancé? And if Lily didn’t sell me to Dick, why did he agree to the shelter?

  Picking up my phone, I thumbed up Hayes’s number.

  “Well, well. You son of a bitch. Finally decided to answer the phone, huh? Good to know you’re alive, asshole.” His voice was teasing, and I could hear his crooked smile, but there was an undertone that was clearly hey fuckstick, I’ve been worried about you!

  “Yeah, I’ve been trying to get up to speed here and it’s taking a lot of my time.” The truth, but also man speak subtext for I’m sorry I’ve been a twat because I’m nursing a broken heart. “I saw the hit you took against San Diego. How’s the knee?” I care about you and you are my bestie.

  “Bruised. Sore. But okay. You’ve had a rough go lately, too.” You’re my bestie, too. I really don’t want to talk about it.

  I sighed into the phone. “Yeah, my head’s not in it.” I am a fuckstick. I see you noticed my fuckery. Thanks for that.

  “The girl?” Get your head out of your ass, dude.

  “Probably.” I’m lying. It’s totally the girl.

  “What do you mean, probably? You’re so in love with that woman you don’t know your ass from your elbow.” This was completely self-explanatory.

  I grunted. Took a deep swig from my bottle.

  “Lil’s not real cray-cray about her new job either. I mean, she’s good at it. She doesn’t take shit from Chase or Dick. But you can tell it’s wearing on her.”

  I choked, sprayed beer all over my lap and the pictures lying there. Coughing, I tried to shake off the worst of the damage. “Lily isn’t at the Unruly Dog anymore?”

  “Dick made her the head trainer. I thought you knew.”

  “Why would she do that? She loved working with those dogs. Lily doesn’t always people well.”

  Fuck me on a cactus. Lily didn’t sell me out to get her shelter. She sold herself and went to work for the team. I didn’t understand why Dick would want her working for the team in exchange, but I knew down to my very marrow that Lily Costello didn’t set me up.

  See? Fuckstick.

  “Sorry, I assumed you knew. But no shit about the peopling. Half the team is afraid to piss her off for fear of an ass chewing. They’re all scared of your girlfriend, Shaw. She does not put up with shit or excuses. Wallace hurt his thumb horsing around during walk-throughs and Lily lit into him. It was funny as hell. I think he’s half in love with her now. He’s definitely a bottom.”

  I broke into a belly laugh that I hadn’t felt since I left. “That was my girl. Pack leader all the way.” I scanned over the picture of her that took the most of my beer-fountain damage and a flash of color caught my eye. “Oh shit. Is that? Hayes, let me call you later, okay?”

  “Yeah. Hey, don’t drop off the Earth this time, okay?” I love you, man.

  “Later.” I love you, too, bro.

  After I hung up, CC followed me inside and I flipped on the island light, putting the picture down on the counter. Please tell me it wasn’t my imagination.

  Using the empty bottle, I angled it back and forth over one photo trying to get a better look. It had taken the majority of my beer fountain. The photo was grainy and a little far off, so I hadn’t really lingered on it before.

  It was of Lily leaving my building. A side profile of her walking to her car with a to-go coffee in her hand
. Behind her, parked bed-first inside the garage, sat a black pickup truck.

  The splatter on the photo made the colors richer, and I could see the custom paint down the side panel, paint that only just wrapped around the brake light to the edge of the tailgate.

  It was either burnt orange or a deep red.

  The word Ford stretched all the way across the tailgate in flat black letters.

  “Son. Of. A. Bitch.”

  I rolled the bottle around and saw something that nearly had me in tears.

  My building’s garage had a teal-colored metal barrier—an architectural thing meant to function as a safety barrier to keep cars from running over the sidewalk. The barrier ran in front of the truck, between Lily on the sidewalk and where the truck was parked.

  The barrier was made of long steel railings set on the horizontal that ran between larger vertical posts maybe ten feet apart.

  Through two of the railings, I could see a license plate number.

  I couldn’t read it. It was too small, and a couple of the digits were obscured by one of the posts.

  But it was there.

  It was right fucking there.

  Whoever owned that truck owned the mill.

  And we had a partial license plate.

  Setting the picture aside, I smiled to myself. Finally. I decided to kill two birds with one stone and pulled up my contacts list.

  “Dallas Bulldogs Public Relations Office.”

  “Hi, can I speak to Mariana Lopez, please?”

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  “Brody Shaw.”

  There was a pregnant pause on the other end. “One moment. I’ll see if she’s still here.”

  “Brody?” Mariana sounded out of breath. “What can I do for you?”

  It was time I got some answers about what my shoulder had to do with Lily.

  Hopefully, Mariana would take pity on me, and just maybe...do me a solid?