Wildcard (Stacked Deck Book 1)

by Emilia Finn

  “I’m sorry,” Evie rolls from one hand to the other to take relief. Her shoulders will be burning by now, her wrists aching. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Not okay.” Nelly sits in the chair Evie left, and sips the coffee Evie poured for herself. “You need an attitude adjustment, baby girl. Seems being up the right way ain’t doing it, so now we’ll see if the extra blood in your brain will make you smarter.”

  “I’m sorry! I just…” She folds her neck so she can peek at her spectators. “I’m feeling a little wound up, so I popped off. I didn’t mean to disrespect you, Gramma. I promise.”

  “I’m glad this time has given you pause from your other stressors so you can reflect on what’s important.” She pauses, lifts a brow. “What is most important, honey?”

  “Family.” Evie drops her head and goes to her zen when she realizes no one is letting her down. “Family is most important.”

  “Whose truck will you be riding in this morning, sweetheart? When we go to the gym and open it up to families who need a warm breakfast for Christmas, whose truck will you be riding in?”

  She sighs. “Ben’s.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because he’s family,” she finishes. “And family is important.”

  “There it is.” Nelly places her coffee down and walks to her granddaughter. This is a practiced move in the Kincaid family, and it’s definitely not the first time I’ve seen Evie punished this way, so Nelly taps Evie’s butt, and remains in place for the girl to lower her legs and find her equilibrium. As soon as Evie pushes her hair back and reveals eyes that show genuine heartbreak, they step into each other’s embrace. “I love you, sweetheart.”

  “I’m sorry,” Evie whispers, swallowing when her voice cracks. “I’m so sorry for cussing at you. I love you, Gramma.”

  Ben

  Let’s Just Play Nice

  “I don’t want to fight with you.” Evie places a roll of paper towels beside my hand as we stand in front of the barbecue in the gym parking lot. We cook up six trillion eggs and rashers of bacon every single Christmas, and while I do that, Evie slices bread rolls open and lathers them with butter. “I’m sorry we can’t get along, but I’d really like to not snap at you anymore.”

  “Nobody said we can’t get along.” I work my tongs and slide a hand into the pocket at the front of my apron. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I never actively try to annoy you.”

  “Let’s just…” She blows out a heavy breath and begins on the next bread roll. The masses have already been, but people continue to trickle in, which means we keep buttering and cooking until they don’t.

  The Kincaids have been giving back to this town since the moment they had enough money to do so. They do their Christmas dinner on Christmas eve, and presents early in the morning, so by the time eight o’clock rolls around and the pancakes have been consumed, they’re here at the gym, handing out a hot breakfast and gifts for children who might not otherwise get one.

  “Let’s just not speak at all,” Evie continues in a soft voice. “I hurt everyone when I fight with you. I hurt you.” She looks up and meets my eyes. “I hurt what we used to have. I hurt me. I hurt my family.” She shakes her head. “I cussed my own fucking grandma out this morning, because I can’t keep my shit under control when you’re snapping back.”

  “I feel inclined to remind you I didn’t snap at all this morning. That was you and your family.” I slide fried eggs into a silver tray on the edge of the grill to keep them warm. “All I did was stand in the room.”

  “Exactly.” She hacks a bread roll open and drops a chunk of butter in. “I can’t handle this, okay? I can’t be here with you and not hurt, and we all know, when I’m hurt, I lash out.”

  “This isn’t over.” There. I said it. “You say it is. And you try to fuck us all up when you bring a guy home. But you and me?” I meet her fiery eyes. “This ain’t done.”

  “It was done three years ago.” Her voice is quiet. Serious. And it cracks, but she acts like it doesn’t. “What we had was special. It was so fucking special, but it was done the second we traded friendship for a relationship. We were young and stupid, and because of that, we ruined it.”

  “Now we’re grown and smart?” I study her wild curls and mourn the fact I can’t just reach out and touch. “That’s what you’re saying?”

  Her pert nose moves as she tries to stop herself from crying. God forbid this warrior show any type of emotion. “Yes, we’re older now. I’m not a teenager anymore, Ben. And I’m not a stupid girl that was so dependent on a boy, she couldn’t go to sleep without his voice in her ear.”

  I slam my tongs down and turn to her when a wash of anger races through my veins. “Reid talk you to sleep now? You think you can just switch out the voices, and the feelings will stay the same?”

  She shakes her head and uses her shoulder to swipe her cheek. “No. Nobody talks to me until I sleep anymore. I do it on my own, because that’s what grown adults do. They function without dependence on someone else.”

  “Mm.” I turn back to my grill and toss rashers of bacon into a separate tray.

  A family of four stops by and load up their bread rolls, so I give them the smile Bobby said I had to give.

  “Merry Christmas.” Evie squeezes a circle of ketchup on when they ask, but when they’re gone, she drops her fake smile and slumps.

  “You think your mom and Aiden have habits each night?” I turn to her and try to speak without an edge to my voice. That edge is what starts eighty percent of our fights. “Do they follow the same routines?”

  Her brows furrow with curiosity. “Huh? Why?”

  “Genuine question. Do they have their routines?”

  She shrugs. “I mean, yeah, I guess. They brush their teeth in the master bathroom, and when they’re done, word is he slaps her ass on the way out.”

  “Every time?”

  Her cheeks warm. “That’s what I hear when she screeches about how it hurt.”

  I chuckle. “And when he’s away at camp?” I paste on my fakest smile when Jimmy passes by and glares at us to make sure we’re being good. “When Aiden is at camp, what does your mom do?”

  “We watch movies,” she sighs. “I don’t know what she does now, but when I was in high school, if Biggie had camp and I couldn’t go, Mom and I watched movies in the dark and waited for him to come home again.”

  “Mm.”

  “What?” she snaps. “What’s the mm? What are you trying to get at?”

  I shrug. “Sounds like dependency to me. They love each other, and they’re fully functioning adults for the most part. But when coach is out of town, your mom can’t sleep. Just an observation.”

  “Nobody asked you.” She turns back and continues to punish the bread rolls. She sends sesame seeds flying around because she’s so rough, and makes me fear for my life when she white-knuckles the butter knife.

  “What movies did you watch?”

  “Shut up,” she growls. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

  I laugh when Reid fucking Baker comes out of the gym and heads toward us with a mask of rage marring his features. He’s not okay with his girlfriend being sent here in my truck. But he wants the Rollers. I suspect he wants them more than he wants Evie, so he does as he’s told. If they tell him to shut his mouth and go inside to help with a kiddie class, that’s where he goes – far, far away from us.

  “I swear, Ben. If you don’t shut up.”

  I turn to her and flash my cruelest smile. Victory tastes so sweet, and when your opponent is the undefeated Evelyn Kincaid, you take your victories when you can. “As you wish, Princess Buttercup.”

  My smile turns to a glower when fuckface reaches us. He doesn’t stop on the other side of the barbecue to talk. Instead, full of balls and bravado, he comes around our side and slams a dry kiss onto Evie’s lips.

  The second their lips touch and her arms go around his neck, I toss my tongs down with a loud crash and walk away from the happy coup
le. “Fuck you both.”

  “What did you say, Conner?”

  Evie grabs Reid’s red face and brings him back to her before he runs at me. I walk backwards and dare him to try it. I’d love nothing more than a second round.

  “He said nothing.” She forces his eyes back to her. “Reid. Ignore him. We don’t feed the wildlife.”

  “Fuck you, Evie!” I stop backing away and instead take a step forward.

  “Nope!” Tink races out of the gym and slams her palms to my chest. She pushes with as much strength as she can, and though I could move her out of my way if I wanted, I slow and let her move me.

  If I fight that asshole in the gym parking lot while families are trying to eat their bacon and eggs, then I’m gonna find my ass without a gym family fast.

  “Inside.” Tink doesn’t stop pushing until we leave the cold breeze outside and stop in reception. “I can’t even get mad at you for that one.” She releases me as soon as she sees I have my shit under control. “Did that asswipe just have his tongue down her throat?”

  “Don’t say that.” I throw my hands into the air and walk away. “Don’t put more shit in my head.”

  “Jon!” Tink races ahead of me, snags her husband’s hand, and tries to slingshot him toward the doors. “You need to cook the barbecue. Evelyn!” She pushes Jon outside, and stands at the gym entrance. “Evelyn! Inside. I need your help with something. Reid, honey, can you help Jon? Great!” She doesn’t wait for his answer. She merely pastes on a fake smile and steamrolls right over whatever objection he wants to make. “Evelyn! Run, you little shit.”

  Evie

  Springs Eternal

  I walk into my father’s garage ahead of Reid with what feels like a ball of lead in my stomach, and when I reach the far wall, I turn back and watch him close the door with a soft snick. “Listen, Reid. I know it’s been rough, but–”

  “Rough?” He stalks forward with slow movements and shows how he’s so effective in the octagon. He’s Ben’s opposite in every way – there are no tempers, no screaming matches, no nasty jabs in an attempt to zing the other the worst. Reid doesn’t rise to most of Ben’s bait, he never explodes with anger, and short of Ben literally grabbing me and kissing me, I doubt Reid will square up.

  Jesus, please don’t let Ben kiss me.

  “You think eating dinner with your ex is rough?” he murmurs. “Breakfast? Sleeping in your uncle’s home with a stench-breath dog sharing my bed, or walking that gym and seeing pictures of you and that fuckin’ asshole on every wall?”

  “They’re not couple photos,” I argue quietly. “They’re gym photos. It’s this thing we do that started with Grandpa Bry; he wants photos on all the walls. He wants memories.” When Reid does nothing but continue to glare, I throw my hands up with a grunt. “My mom’s a photographer, that’s what she does. She takes pictures, she develops them, and then she hangs them. My grandpa wants memories on the wall. What do you want from me?”

  “I don’t mind the overprotective act when it comes to meeting a girl’s family. Most do it, and it’s just ribbing to make sure I can stack up. I can take that,” he stops in front of me and brings the tips of his fingers to the underside of my jaw, “but what I can’t take is them throwing him at you, and you doing nothing to show you have my back.”

  “What?”

  “I get it, okay? He’s the golden boy, he’s their fighter, and he has history here. I get that they want him for you, but what about your wants?”

  “My wants?”

  He lifts a brow. “You broke up with him, remember? You made your choice, you didn’t choose him. So why can’t they respect that decision? You’re not seventeen anymore, Curls. you don’t have to do as they say or risk being grounded.” He brings my eyes back when I try to turn. “It would be tolerable, except for the way you watch him.”

  “I watch him?”

  “Mmhm. It pisses me off so much, babe. You have no clue how much it pisses me off. But unlike him, I have the manners and good sense not to make a scene.”

  “I don’t– I don’t know what–”

  “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d wonder if you like the attention.”

  “What?” I jolt back so his hand falls from my face. “Are you serious right now? How many ways and in how many languages do I have to tell him to fuck off for someone to hear me?”

  “People aren’t hearing your words, Curls. They’re seeing your eyes, and they’re not telling him to fuck off.”

  “You’re wrong.” I fold my arms and stalk across the freezing garage. “Everyone is trying to see something that isn’t there. My family is trying to make it something it’s not, and you’re mad, so you’re wearing tinted glasses. It’s not my fault he’s here, Reid. I didn’t invite him, but you knew it was a risk when you decided to come here. You knew who he is and who his trainers are.” I slam a cupboard door closed and turn back. “Everyone is acting like meeting up again is some kind of divine intervention from the universe, but what it is, is my meddling family, a small town, and the fact we have a lifetime of history.”

  “So maybe you need to cut that history off.”

  I open my mouth in an automatic reaction to argue back, but I close it again when his words penetrate my brain. “What?”

  “If everyone is trying to force something that isn’t there, then that means they don’t respect you enough to listen. If he doesn’t respect his childhood friend enough to back away when you so clearly ask him to, then maybe he’s not the kind of guy you should have in your life.”

  “What… what are you saying, Reid?”

  “I’m saying that there’s no way in a million years they’re going to back my circuit, so–”

  “They’re listening! They said so last night.”

  “And they told me point-blank this morning that there is no chance. So we may as well just go home again. They don’t want me here, and they don’t want you either.”

  “They– What? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “They don’t want this version of you, Curls.” He steps forward and meets me by the cupboards. He steps so close that his breath feathers along the tip of my nose, and his hands rest on my hips. “They want the teenaged version of you, the one that dated their contender, the one that was dependent on them for everything. But we change, Evie. People change. You left your nest and became stronger. You became independent, and now they know what that truly means, they don’t like it.”

  “What…” My brows furrow in genuine bafflement. “What does it mean?”

  “It means you won’t sit, stay, or beg just because they ordered you to.”

  My brows shoot up high, and my bad attitude insists I woof like a dog and call him on his insulting bullshit.

  “You were their female contender,” he pushes, “and he’s your male counterpart. As a couple, you represent the fighter world in a way no one else does. You have to see this, Curls. You have to see that they made this happen from the get-go. Now they have a powerhouse couple and billions of dollars in cute couple endorsements.”

  “No.” I slip out from between his hard body and the cupboards. “They were the ones that sent me away. I begged to stay and become that cute couple, but they sent me away in search of my independence.”

  “You’re wrong,” he snaps. “And you’re so hopelessly devoted to this family, that you can’t see how they’ve manipulated everything.”

  “Watch your tone!” We stand ten feet apart, but I still point as though I’m going to poke his chest. “Watch what you say about my family.”

  “You broke free of the shackles, you stayed at college and got a different boyfriend, the kind that wasn’t selected straight out of a catalogue especially for you, and now they’re doing what they can to push you two back together.”

  “They are not! My Aunt Tink is pushing, but that’s what she does. She’s a meddler. Biggie hasn’t done anyth–”

  “What the fuck is up with those names?” Reid growls. “You call him
Biggie. He calls you Smalls. Seriously? You have regular names, ya know!”

  I take a step back and glare. “You’re being petty and rude. So what if we have nicknames for each other? How does that hurt you?”

  He turns away, only to move to the counter filled with tools for the cars. “It doesn’t hurt me. But it sure invalidates that independence you demanded by being away. Your name is Evie.”

  “Oh, so it’s not Curls?” I let my temper take over and snap back. “My mistake. You’ve called me that so many times over the years, that I forgot my real name.”

  He lifts a tire wrench, tosses it between his hands, and rolls his eyes. “Now who’s being petty?”

  “Why are we fighting, Reid? Are you mad about Ben? Or nicknames? Or the fact Biggie said no to the very thing I told you he’d say no to? They won’t risk their business because your brother wants to fight pro but comes with a rap sheet. I told you that before we boarded the damn plane!”

  “I’m mad because I’m here with my girlfriend, but somehow I feel like the third wheel. Why are we here, Evie? To revisit the old days of the Ben and Evie show? Or to visit your family for Christmas? Because I assure you, I’ve seen more of Ben than I have that other cousin you swear is your best friend.”

  “Bean?”

  “Fuckin’ nicknames! Why does no one use their real name?”

  “You’re being an asshole.” I storm forward and snatch the tire iron from his hands, then I throw it to the counter so hard that it bounces and sends wrenches flinging to the floor. “You came here to be with me, and to meet your fight idols. You got both. You’re sleeping in a world champion’s fucking home, next door to two other champions. And I’m right here, having your back and listening to you bitch when my aunt would likely prefer I was wherever Ben is right now. Or, ya know, drinking mimosas with her by the pool. My gym doesn’t wanna back your plan, Reid. So now you need to get the hell over it. If you wanna fly out early, go for it, but I won’t pander to you if you’re gonna stay here and sulk. I’m not about that life anymore.”