Wildcard (Stacked Deck Book 1)

by Emilia Finn

  My insecurities about some unknown gym. My controlling ways that made her quit the one thing that might make her happy while she’s away. She quit to make me feel better, but did I quit Nora?

  No. I just stopped rubbing her in Evie’s face.

  At five on the dot, I step out of the locker room and head through the gym. I pass people I would normally stop and speak to, but today, I keep my head down and pray they all leave me alone.

  Aiden waits in the front reception area. He sits on the stool behind the desk, a kind of watchdog, though he never normally sits there, and watches me as I come through.

  “See you tomorrow, coach.”

  “Mm.” He says nothing else. Not a single fucking thing as Nora, who was waiting for me to finish, follows me out and slides into my truck like she has every single Tuesday for the last few months.

  I toss my bag into the back, and climb into the driver’s seat. Starting the engine, I pull away from the gym and ignore the way Aiden stands at the front doors and stares so fucking hard, I’m sure the side of my head is on fire.

  “Are you… Are you okay?”

  Nora’s words are quiet. Shy. They always are, because she was fucked up beyond comprehension when she was only sixteen years old. She has trust issues as far as men go. So if she’s comfortable with me, then I can’t in good conscience tell her to fuck off when she needs a little support.

  If it was Bean, Evie would understand.

  If it was Livi, Evie would understand.

  If it was any other chick on the planet, Evie would understand.

  Nora shouldn’t be punished because Evie carries an unfounded grudge against the poor girl – unfounded, because Nora has never wanted to be with me. She has never so much as hinted at it. And I’ve wanted Evie for so long, I literally don’t have the space or inclination to want someone else.

  Guys and girls can be friends.

  “Ben?”

  “I’m fine. Today was shitty, but I’m fine.”

  I drive across town to the residential area and pull up outside a home, though no one lives here. It’s a business, an office that houses one of the best in the industry – or so I’ve heard.

  Cutting the engine beside a black truck that’s about twenty years newer than mine, I wait for Nora to slide out, and then we head inside together.

  This has been an ongoing meeting for months, and when I found out what it’s for and who would be in attendance, how was I supposed to say no to escorting her?

  I couldn’t. I can’t.

  I refuse.

  “Hi, Nora.” The receptionist sitting behind a tall desk smiles as we enter, and though I nod in acknowledgment, Nora’s eyes are invariably drawn to the waiting area.

  Kane Bishop sits with his wife and twin girls, and when he notices we’ve entered, he stands and takes my hand.

  “Conner. How’s it going?”

  “Shit,” I joke… sorta. Everything kind of is shit, but that’s not why we’re here.

  “Nora.” Kane turns to my meek friend, but he doesn’t offer his hand. He’s part of her nightmares. Which means he’s now a part of her healing.

  “Nora?” Sonia is getting on in age, but she doesn’t look a day over… well, fifty. That might sound bad, but I swear she must be eighty, so to look fifty is pretty decent. She wears a power suit in pastel pink, and extends a hand to invite Nora and Kane in.

  As soon as the door closes behind the therapist and her clients, I sit down beside Kane’s wife and do what I do every week – I play with his baby girls, and wait out the hour so I can take Nora home again and make sure she’s dealing with her fucked up world.

  Evie

  May

  Sitting in Econ101 has become a chore of epic proportions, and that’s saying something, since before Reid ever entered my life, I already had a healthy hatred for this class.

  But now it’s relentless.

  Months of surprise drop-bys. Months of questions, only to feel like a total bitch for ignoring him. Months of letters left on my chair, and pencils tapping my shoulder while I continue to pretend he doesn’t exist.

  “Curls?”

  Professor Miesner is fifty minutes into whatever the hell he teaches, with his back to the class and half of his toupee sitting off center, but all I hear is ‘blah, blah, Curls. Blah, blah, Curls.’

  “What the fuck did we do? Was the class too hard? Too easy?” Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. “Did you get wigged out because my brother belted my sister’s ex? Because in my world, I don’t consider that a crime. And word on the street, your daddy did something similar to someone else in your life. Sean Frankston has no teeth now because of Aiden Kincaid, right?”

  I roll my eyes. “Congratulations. You worked out the Google machine.”

  “I’m just saying, it’s the same thing, no? Your real daddy beat your mom for fun, your stepdaddy beat him to shit for it. It’s the same fucking thing.”

  “I have no beef with your brother, Reid. I never said I did. I hate women beaters more than anyone, so if I ever see Kyle again, I’ll high-five him.”

  “So what, then?”

  We get ugly stares from some of the students around us.

  “What?” he presses me. “You said you were coming back.”

  “Then I changed my mind.”

  “But why?”

  “I’m not your Kincaid contact, Reid. And they’re gonna say no anyway. Go away.”

  “I don’t need an in with the Kincaids. I’m calling you Curls, ain’t I? I didn’t use that other name.”

  “I’m barely scraping through this class, and finals are coming up. I’m begging you to leave me the hell alone.” I try my best to stare at Miesner’s elbow patches, and not the face that pokes into my peripherals.

  “I told you I could help you study. I did alright in this class.”

  “And I told you I have a boyfriend to help me. I don’t need your help.”

  “Your boyfriend,” he rolls his eyes. “Big bad fighter gets a chance on the pro circuit, and you’re over here studying shit you don’t wanna study.”

  “The studying is for my parents, not him. Go away.”

  “Come back to class! Fuck, Evie. I see you running. I see you cross the fucking park. It’s not like you’re not in the area. Just come down the fucking stairs and join in. I’ll comp you the fees for a while, if you come up with some fabricated story about being a broke student.”

  “I don’t need money, I don’t need comped fees. I need a man to understand that no means no. It’s a really simple notion, and something I’m very passionate about. No means no. I’ve answered you, so now I’m gonna need you to walk away before I show you how well a girl can fight.”

  He doesn’t leave, but my words still leave him in a stunned silence. He’s not afraid of me fighting him, but probably concerned with the no-means-no thing. To say that feels… serious. Like we’re talking about sexual assault, and not an invitation to a gym. With his sister’s history, it’s obvious he would react to such a strong statement, but I’m sick of saying the same thing over and over again.

  When our hour is up, I grab my things and dash away before he’s even out of his seat.

  This week has… sucked. Like, super sucked, because Ben is busy leading up to his fight. It means he’s in bed earlier at night, and awake earlier in the mornings. It means missed calls, and text replies hours after the original text was sent. I have finals to stress about, and the painful knowledge that no matter how much I study or the number of late nights I spend staring at textbooks, I’m going to suck and need to re-do this stupid fucking class.

  Ben’s busy, and I’m busy, and when you’re in a long-distance relationship, missing a phone call feels almost life-altering.

  I have two months to go. Just two months until I get to go home again, and though two months sounds like a lot, I like to break it down and say eight weeks. Eight weeks sounds better. If I want to break it down even more, I think of it in terms of days, and hours, and when I’m feeling
extra vulnerable, I count the minutes.

  Once those minutes are up, I get to throw myself onto a plane and go back to my family. I get to have my face smooshed by my mom’s kisses, and my body crushed by Biggie’s hugs. I get to spar with Bean, and tease Mac. And best of all, I get to swim at the spring with Ben… and kiss him… date him. Make love to him.

  The distance feels like a fallacy when we’re together. We can regroup, find our routine again, reaffirm our friendship – our relationship – and then I can come back here and face a brand-new year of monotony.

  I have an hour before my next class, and books to study, so I head outside into the nice May sunlight. It’s tank top season, and when I sit on the picnic bench outside on the grass, I throw my head back for a second and feel the sun’s rays beating down on me.

  I feel like I have a type of winter blues, but in May. And the worst part is, I’m not sure they’re going to go away until I get my diploma and permission to leave this godforsaken place.

  I know I only have an hour, and I know I need to study, but Reid’s constant nagging has annoyed me, so I take out my phone and feel a jolt of electricity race through my veins when my screen shows messages waiting. But that happiness lasts only seconds, because none are from Ben. Of course I’m happy to hear from Bean and Mac, and since they’re with Ben, it’s a kind of consolation prize, but still, I shoot off my quick replies, and then I dial Ben.

  He’s probably busy, but I still try, because I need him. I need him the way I need food and water, and the lack of making time lately bothers me.

  “Hello?” Ben’s voice is a shout, but it’s happy. “Hey! Hold on one sec.”

  He walks through a space any fighter knows – he walks through a gym, though I know it’s not ours. He flew out with my parents a few days ago, to settle in and get used to the new venue. But I still hear the sounds of fists on bags, and the constant swish-swish-swish of a skipping rope flicking the floors.

  “Jesus, Evie. You have no clue how happy it makes me to hear your voice.”

  “Yeah?” I hate how hearing him say that makes me emotional. Had we never gotten together, I would reply with something witty, about how awesome I am, so of course he’s happy. But relationship-Evie is a pussy. She’s insecure in her actions, and walking on eggshells because she doesn’t want to mess anything up. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to take my call.”

  “I have time.” Finally, the noise around him dissipates and makes me think he’s walked outside. “I miss you like crazy.”

  “I miss you too. You ready for tonight?”

  “I’m ready. Feeling strong, ready for my next step toward the belt.”

  I bring my face down and smile at the table. “Arrogance. You know I love that shit. Why are you in a gym today? You’re not resting?”

  “Yeah, it’s just a promo thing today,” he answers easily. “Photos with my opponent and shit. We’re packing up in a bit, and heading back to the hotel. Then Aiden has a car coming for us at four.”

  “Fight is at six?”

  He scoffs. “As if you don’t know. You got the pay-per-view, right? Coach said he organized it for you.”

  “I have it all set up to go. My laptop is charged, and I bought popcorn to toss at the screen.”

  He chuckles and lets out a grunt. It sounds like he’s sitting down, but all I see in my head is him right here beside me. Shirtless, and sweaty, the way he’s been so many times in the past. The sun will be beating down on him just as perfectly as it is me.

  We’re sharing the same warmth, and that knowledge makes me smile until, from the corner of my eye, I catch sight of someone staring at me.

  There’s no reason why I should turn, nothing sparkly or foreign that should draw my attention, but I turn anyway and glower when Reid stops at the top of the stairs leading into the building. He pauses for a moment and tilts his head to the side as though to study me, but when I glare right back instead of the smile I’m certain he receives from everyone else of the female population, he rolls his eyes and walks back inside.

  “Evie?”

  “Yeah? What? Sorry.”

  Ben laughs again, and has no clue what’s got me distracted. “How was class?”

  “Fucking lame,” I grumble. “I can’t honestly say I’ve enjoyed a single class since being here. Literally, not one single class.” I rest an elbow on the table, and run my hand through my hair. “I know I need to stop whining. This is one of those ‘make the best of a bad situation’ things. But gah! I’m not ready to stop yet. Especially not on fight night.”

  “First fight you’ve ever missed.” He sighs. “Ever.”

  “I know. I’m sorry… Bean and Mac there? Bean’s got your back?”

  “Yeah… she…” He stumbles on his words. “Yeah. She’s here. She’s been busy with Mac, so we haven’t spent a lot of time together lately.”

  “Really? I feel like the four of us were together all the time before I left.”

  “I think you were our glue,” he murmurs. “She hangs because she wants to be with you and Mac, but you’re not here, and Mac is hanging with her anyway, so she doesn’t need me.”

  I frown. “I doubt it’s like that. Bean is a loyal friend. She’s amazing.”

  “Mm. She really is. I know she is. She speaks about you every single day.”

  I smile and begin scratching patterns into the worn table. “She’s been my best friend since before she was even born. Her life has been as messed up as the rest of us, now that I’m gone. She doesn’t know what to do with her time.”

  “She knows,” he gives a humorless chuckle. “His name is Mac, and her objective is the pro circuit for them both.”

  “How’s he doing?” I ask. “Mac. He texts, but he doesn’t tell me much about his medical stuff.”

  “He’s good. They’re trialing new drugs all the time, like anti-rejection stuff and whatnot, so sometimes he’s tired, other times he’s fine. And when the whole town got sick with the flu, he had to be extra careful not to get sick. His immunity is compromised, so he’s gotta be careful. He struggled through the winter.”

  “He stayed home to rest?”

  He barks out a laugh. “No, he wore a mask to the gym, and nearly gave us all a stroke from worry. We were all dying from colds, but this motherfucker was doing his thing with a mask and six gallons of drinking water. He’s on a mission, Evie. And no one’s gonna stop him.”

  “It’s kinda noble though, right?” I lean forward and let my hair curtain me away from the rest of the world. In here, it’s just me and Ben. When I speak to Ben, I’m home again. “He’s fighting to get back what was stolen from him, and there’s no one on this planet – least of all a fighting committee – that knows his body as well as he does.”

  “Conner!”

  “Aw, shit.” Ben grunts again, standing. “I gotta go back inside. I’m sorry we haven’t been talking a lot lately. We’ll make it better after the fight, okay?”

  I nod, despite the fact I’m all alone. “Yeah, we’ll make it better.”

  “Love you, beautiful. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay… bye.” I hang up and try to swallow the lump of longing from my throat. I let my screen turn black, and scold myself that I should open my stupid textbook.

  I know that half of my problem with this course is the way numbers go wonky in my head, but a solid half belongs to my disinterest. If I applied myself more, I’m sure my grades could be a little better.

  Holding onto my procrastination for a moment longer, I swipe my phone open again and go in search of my texts. Mac’s says relax. That’s literally all it says, so with a frown, I exit that screen and open Bean’s: Ask Ben about Nora!

  My heart gives a painful thump and steals the oxygen from my lungs. Nora. The girl I haven’t asked about in months. The girl I refuse to ask about, because Ben and I are together. He loves me and I love him, and that’s enough for us. I refuse to be the jealous girlfriend…

  Despite the fact I quit
the gym to make him happy.

  Instead of calling Ben and demanding answers the way I want to, I text him: hey, I meant to ask. How’s Nora? Do you guys hang out much lately?

  I toss my phone down as though it offends me. Being cryptic and passive is all wrong for me. It’s not who I am. Six months ago, I would have called and just asked straight up. I wouldn’t have even considered asking in a roundabout way, but I don’t want Nora to be a problem for us, and if I call and screech at him about her, that argument is going to be my fault.

  I’m sick of us not being as tight as we used to be. I’m sick of letting school and fighting and everything else in the world get in our way, and I’m especially sick of feeling like our distance is my fault, when I’m the one that’s here all alone.

  Ben: She’s doing okay. She’s still pretty quiet, going to therapy and shit. She’s meeting with Bishop now, which I think is helping her cope.

  Fuck.

  Therapy. Kane Bishop. Coping.

  Yeah, I’m the asshole.

  Me: Okay. That’s cool. Call me later if you can, otherwise, I’ll be watching your fight. You better call me the second they lift your hand in victory.

  Ben: As you wish. ; ) You’ll be my first stop. Love you.

  As you wish…

  I can’t help my smile as I reply: Love you too.

  “Hands up, Ben!”

  Clair left our room long ago, because I’m what she considers loud. Fuck her. My man is fighting.

  “Hands up!” I scream at my laptop and half stand on my bed. I’m in fight stance, with one foot forward, and one back, like I think I can help him win. “Ben. Put your fucking hands up!”

  When he takes a one, two, three jab to the face that almost sends him sprawling, I snatch up my phone with rage pulsing in my veins. I dial Biggie’s phone, but it shouldn’t surprise me when my mom answers and the screaming crowd surrounding her nearly sends me deaf.

  “Baby? Are you okay?”

  “Put Biggie on the phone!”

  “Babe! He’s working. I’m absolutely not putting him on the phone.”