Offsides: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 3)

by Jami Davenport

  Wade’s eagle eyes dissected him like they’d dissect an opposing team’s goalie. “How’s everything going?”

  “We’re struggling, but we’ll get it together. Lots of young players on this team.”

  “You and I’ve been stuck on some shitty teams over the years.” Wade held up his bottle. “Here’s to winning the Cup and a ring before we retire.”

  Zach clinked his bottle against his brother’s. “We will.”

  “Yeah, we will. I hear rumors Seattle might be getting an NHL team.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “Who knows? Maybe I’ll end up here.” A car horn honked from the front of the house. “That’s my ride, Zach. Take care, okay?” He held his hand out to Zach. In a rare display of affection, Zach pulled Wade into a bear hug.

  “Have a safe trip.”

  “I will.”

  Zach followed him to the front porch and watched the taxi drive away. Just like that, Wade walked back to his own life and left Zach alone with his memories and his ever-present guilt.

  A few roses grew on the once wild but now trimmed bush near the walkway. Hell, he hadn’t even realized he had roses until the team descended upon his yard. Stepping off the porch, Zach tore a deep orange rose from its stem, ignoring the thorns biting into his fingers. Roses reminded him of Kelsie, beautiful but with the ability to inflict pain.

  Zach squatted next to his brother’s final resting place. He laid the rose on top of the marble. Gary liked orange. Orange and blue had been his junior high team’s colors. He’d strutted around in his jersey on Zach’s and Wade’s game days, proud as their pit bull after he’d chased off the neighbor’s cat—the same pit bull his father had shot in the head while the kids watched because the animal dug a hole in the backyard. Like anyone noticed with all the weeds and garbage. Bottom line: Zach knew the old man did the dog in because the kids loved their pet.

  Gary had to be in a better place, smiling down on him right now from his seat on a fluffy cloud surrounded by junk food. Gary had loved junk food, the greasier the better. Surely in heaven, a guy didn’t need to worry about clogging his arteries, if angels even had arteries.

  Zach buried his head in his hands as a sob welled up in his throat. He didn’t fight it. The tears he’d never shed all those years ago slipped down his cheeks. No one would see him. Harris might love to probe for weaknesses, but the guy had better things to do than hide in the bushes waiting to revoke Zach’s man card.

  He couldn’t even work up the energy to give a shit about Harris right now. The harsh reality of things put a jerk like that in perspective. Zach would’ve tolerated an entire team of Harrises just to see his little brother’s smile one last time.

  Shaking off the bittersweet memories, Zach swiped viciously at the tears and rubbed his eyes. He stood and almost fell on his ass. His right leg tingled all the way up to his hip from lack of circulation. He stomped it on the ground, ignoring the spikes of pain.

  The rain started again.

  “Good night for now, little brother. I love you.”

  Zach tried the back door and found it locked. Walking around the house to the porch, he dropped into the creaky porch swing, not wanting to go inside just yet. He must have fallen asleep, because when he woke, he was cold and stiff.

  A glint of silver tucked back in the corner behind his garage caught his eye. What the hell?

  He walked toward the garage and the illuminated piece of metal. Stepping as quietly as a six-foot-three, two-hundred-fifty-pound guy could while wearing cowboy boots, he crept closer. The motion-sensor light on his garage flipped on and illuminated the surrounding area. Tucked next to the garage in what used to be an RV parking spot was a small car.

  Zach stopped in his tracks.

  Kelsie’s car.

  Puzzled, he moved closer and peered through the steamed-up windows. Alarm skittered through him. His heart beat faster. Finding a clear section of the window, he pressed his face against it. Inside the car, Kelsie huddled under a small mountain of blankets. She’d reclined the front seat and slept curled up in a tight ball. Two beady eyes belonging to Kelsie’s eagle-bait dog peeked from beneath the covers and watched him.

  He held his breath, waiting for the yapper to let loose. Scranton wrinkled his nose and dismissed him as insignificant. The little rat turned his back and burrowed beneath the patchwork quilt.

  Zach raised his hand to knock on the window and ask why the hell she was sleeping in his driveway. He squinted into the darkness. His frown deepened. Boxes were stacked in the back seat, along with a makeup bag. Clothes hung on the hooks on either side of the back doors.

  It looked like she was living in her car. Zach updated his assessment. No, she was living in her car. No doubt about it. No wonder he’d caught her sleeping on his couch.

  Zach straightened, torn between taunting her and leaving her alone. He knew how it felt to be reduced to being homeless. He’d hit some pretty low times in his younger days. Yet Kelsie didn’t have the poor background he did. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t gotten money in the divorce settlement or that her wealthy parents allowed her to live like this. Something didn’t add up. Something that was none of his damn business. She’d made her bed, now she’d need to lie in it, even if that bed happened to be the front seat of a car. Karma was a bitch. She deserved this. Even as the words formed in his mind, he didn’t feel vindicated or even satisfied. He felt pity and sadness she’d been reduced to this.

  The vengeful side of him tried to goad the nice guy into waking Kelsie up and kicking her out of his driveway. The nice guy side refused to do so.

  The nice guy won.

  The least he could do was let her keep her pride. And keep her safe.

  And who would keep him safe from Kelsie?

  Chapter 10—No Gain

  The sound of Zach’s diesel four-by-four pickup woke Kelsie from a restless sleep early in the morning. She inched the blankets down until just her eyes peeked above the covers. Zach’s taillights faded in the distance as he pulled onto the slumbering street and disappeared from sight. A homeless girl had to love a man who left at the crack of dawn and didn’t return home until late into the night, especially when she knew where he hid his key.

  Of course, she’d had one slight problem when said man returned home unexpectedly. Her face flushed at the thought of him catching her masturbating. Thank God she’d managed to avoid him ever since by leaving before he arrived home, parking down the street and returning once the last light went off in his house. Last night, he’d had company. She’d seen the taxi pull up and drive by with a man in the back.

  Interesting. Zach never had company, let alone the kind that arrived and left in a taxi rather than in their own oversized vehicle. She’d heard once that a man compensated for the size of his dick with the size of the truck he drove. Not so with Zach. They were both huge. She’d seen firsthand. Her face went from hot to flaming at the thought.

  Scranton snored in her ear, his little body snuggled against her shoulder. She moved him off her and placed him on the passenger seat. He grunted, turned a few times, and curled back into a little ball. He was so not a morning dog. Sitting up, Kelsie squeezed her legs together. She had to go pee. Badly. She gazed at the house, dark in the early morning light, then opened the car door and made a run for the front door. Fishing the key out of its hiding spot in the dead begonia on the front porch, she let herself in and made a dash for the powder room in the grand entryway.

  After doing her business and splashing water on her face, she walked back outside to get Scranton and the necessary toiletries for a shower. She’d wash a load of clothes today, too. A twinge of guilt tweaked her conscience.

  Despite his house’s messy condition—and she was making a dent in it—getting ready for the day in Zach’s house beat the leering men in the homeless shelter or the questionable cleanliness of her previous apartment. Besides, Zach would never know. The guy lived and breathed football twenty-four seven. It wasn’t like her act
ivities cost him money, and she’d been putting a lot of her own personal sweat into making his house presentable.

  She cringed and held her hands to her mouth. That sounded like the old Kelsie, the one who could justify any selfish act. Taught from a young age to indulge in the luxuries that came with a sense of entitlement, Kelsie had taken that life for granted. The hurtful things she had done never made her feel better inside, they made her feel worse.

  Maybe Mark had been her punishment. Beautiful, spoiled, privileged Kelsie had learned the hard facts of life after her wedding. Abuse didn’t have an economic barrier or an educational barrier. It hid behind false smiles and guilt-laden apologies. While most of Mark’s abuse was emotional, there had been times when he’d punched her in the stomach and other places where the bruises couldn’t be seen.

  Now the man she’d hurt the most in high school held the power to destroy her.

  Oh, Zach. She sighed. If only life could have been kinder to both of them.

  Kelsie went back to her car and gathered up her things. She dumped her dirty clothes on top of the dryer to sort and glanced out the window in the back door. Something was different. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the square of dirt where there’d been lawn yesterday. Some kind of flat marble stone sat on top of it. Wondering what Zach had brought home this time, she scooped up Scranton and went to investigate.

  As she read the inscription on the marble slab, a cold knife edge of sadness sliced into her gut. The knife twisted with such wrenching pain that she dropped to her knees in the wet grass and dirt. Scranton wriggled out of her arms, shook himself off. After casting an accusing look in her direction, he trotted off to take care of business.

  Kelsie barely paid him any attention. The date on the slab hit her harder than her ex-husband’s emotional blows to her confidence.

  Back in high school, Mark and Kelsie had been in one of their frequent breakup phases. Marcela’s boyfriend, Joel, had lost the starting middle linebacker position to Zach. Marcela and Joel wanted revenge. Zach’s crush on Kelsie would be a means to that revenge.

  At Marcela’s insistence, she’d invited Zach to the country club ball. Shimmering decorations and a mirror ball couldn’t hide the ugliness of that night. Her friends had bullied Zach, using the information she’d gladly given them to cement her place in their circle.

  Once he’d arrived, her group had gathered around Zach. Kelsie, prodded by Marcela, told him it was a joke. Did he really believe she’d date him? They laughed and laughed and laughed. Zach stood there and took it. His expression was unreadable.

  Mark had been the one to break Zach, making sure everyone knew all the sordid details regarding Zach’s background with his drunk mother and criminal father. He even knew Zach’s reason for attempting to cancel, and Kelsie’s betrayal was a blow he didn’t think he’d ever recover from.

  Zach took it all stoically until Mark attacked Zach’s youngest brother, calling him all kinds of vile names.

  One vicious right hook from Zach, and Mark had dropped face-first into the pasta salad like a duck shot out of the sky with a hunting rifle.

  The last time she’d seen Zach, he’d been handcuffed and sitting in the back of a patrol car. They’d locked gazes. His misery caused by her betrayal was etched in the strong lines of his face. She’d never forgotten that look, carried it with her all these years as her cross to bear.

  Her father, not wanting any adverse publicity, had convinced Mark not to press charges, and the police had released Zach.

  The cold fingers of regret wrapped themselves around her throat, as Kelsie traced the date of his brother’s death with an index finger. The date swam before her eyes.

  The cruelty of what they’d done to Zach that night strangled her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get her lungs to function. She gasped and swayed as the world spun like an out-of-control merry-go-round ride. She struggled to stand, but her knees buckled. She crawled to the bushes as her stomach rolled like ocean waves slamming against a rocky shore.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God, what have I done?

  She wretched over and over again until there was nothing left but dry heaves, then collapsed in a heap in the wet grass and dirt. Tears ran down her face while sobs racked her body. The taste of mud mingled with the salt from her tears.

  Kelsie Carrington-Richmond was a bitch of the worst kind. She didn’t deserve to be in the same company of a man as kind as Zach Murphy.

  Chapter 11—Scrambling for a Few Yards

  Kelsie sat silent and motionless in the midst of sixty-five thousand screaming fans. She’d been a fool to allow Lavender and Rachel to drag her to this game. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Zach, and the more she watched, the more she wanted him, only she didn’t deserve him.

  Two days ago, she’d seen direct evidence of what a bitch she’d been to Zach. She couldn’t come to terms with the depth of her cruelty. Just thinking of that cold, hard slab with his brother’s name on it caused her throat to constrict and her eyes to fill with tears. She’d been such a bitch, such a ruthless, opportunistic bitch. So much guilt weighed her down, she might as well have been carting around a seventy-five-pound backpack.

  The crowd around her collectively groaned, jerking Kelsie back to reality. Rachel stared at her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just fine.”

  Rachel shrugged and went back to watching the game. Kelsie blinked and focused her gaze on the field below her. Zach stood a few feet behind the defensive line shouting signals for a change in defensive scheme to his teammates.

  Kelsie hadn’t grown up in Texas for nothing. She knew enough about football to recognize missed tackles. Zach had his share in the first three quarters. According to Rachel, he’d messed up a few defensive audibles, too, meaning he hadn’t read the offense correctly and called for the wrong defensive formation. The Packers exploited every one of his mistakes.

  Kelsie leaned forward, elbows on her thighs, knuckles pressed against her mouth. Her sole focus was the football field several rows below. Darn, but she wanted to bite a fingernail, but she resisted. She’d always been a nail biter, an unfortunate habit that drove her mother batshit crazy. After all, a beauty queen must have perfect nails and perfect every-fricking-thing else.

  At the end of the second quarter, Zach lined up in the defensive backfield. She watched him survey the offense. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted to his defensive teammates over the din in the Steelheads’ stadium. Getting down in his stance, he reminded Kelsie of a panther watching a delectable baby zebra wandering too close to his kill area. As soon as the ball was snapped, Zach sprang into action, his big body catlike with fluid, athletic grace. He might be rough around all his edges, but the man boasted some mighty fine edges.

  The tight end suckered Zach into following him only to have their running back dart past him untouched for a fifteen-yard gain. Kelsie covered her mouth with her hands and groaned. She felt the quick looks of her friends but stared straight ahead, pretending to be oblivious. Only she wasn’t, and neither were they. They didn’t say a word, so Kelsie hoped she’d dodged a bullet.

  “Zach’s a sweet guy.” Rachel pushed her long hair behind one ear. A diamond earring worth enough to finance a small town’s fire department sparkled in her ear. Kelsie loved diamonds, especially ones big enough to choke a Texas Longhorn. Or at least she used to love them. Now they didn’t seem to be such a big deal.

  “I adore Zach.” Lavender bounced to her feet, waving wildly at a hot dog vendor, bought three, and gave one each to Rachel and Kelsie. Kelsie never ate hot dogs. Her mother hadn’t allowed junk food in her diet. In fact, she barely allowed food in her daughter’s diet. Hot dogs add unnecessary pounds besides not being good for the complexion. God, she was thinking just like her mother. She took a big bite of the hot dog and savored the juicy dog slathered with mustard.

  “You know, Kel, you might want to watch one of the other ten players on the defense once in a while, or we’ll get the
impression you’ve got a thing for our defensive captain.” Lavender wiped a bit of mustard from the corner of her mouth.

  “Or watch the offense when it has the ball instead of the bench.” Rachel patted her arm.

  “It’s that obvious?” No sense denying it.

  “You two circle each other like sparring partners, yet the chemistry’s so intense it’s like being zapped by static electricity. You guys remind me of Tyler and me when we first met.”

  “And Derek and me. So why don’t you fill us in with all the sordid details?” Rachel said.

  “Yeah, are you sleeping with him?”

  “Are you guys a couple?”

  “Or fighting like we did?”

  Kelsie looked from one to the other as they gazed expectantly at her. She didn’t like to talk about her past, yet something told her she could trust these two women, unlike most of the female friends in her life and all of the males. “I was a bitch to him in high school. More than a bitch, I was a mean, cruel bitch. Zach doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.” And I can’t blame him.

  Lavender closed her eyes, rolled her head back, and chewed on her hot dog like a woman having a food orgasm. Another drop of mustard dribbled down the corner of her mouth, and she dabbed it with a napkin.

  “Life’s too short to hold grudges. Maybe you can help him work on that?” Rachel suggested.

  “I’m the last person to give him advice on that subject. He hates me.”

  “He might hate being attracted to you, but he doesn’t hate you.”

  “I almost destroyed him in high school. I helped my friends bully and ridicule him.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell them his brother died, and she’d played a part in it. She’d since googled the brother’s name and found out what happened that fateful night. Thoughts of her involvement almost made her upchuck her hot dog.

  “You don’t seem like that type of person.”

  “I was. If one good thing has come of my circumstances the past ten years, it’s that I’ve developed empathy for people other than myself. I’ve put the mean girl to rest for good.”