Blocked (23 page)

“G
ET
O
UT
O
F
M
Y
G
YM
.”

I rolled over to my side and faced the wall of my bedroom. But instead of seeing sage green wallpaper, all I could picture were Phil’s darkened eyes and the taut lines of his mouth after I’d pushed Jason.

“Get out of my gym.”

I’d never seen my zen-master coach look so mad. And no wonder, with me swearing at him, then manhandling his assistant.
Way
out of bounds. I was surprised Jason hadn’t taken a swing at me—he’d looked like he wanted to. But he obviously had more self-control than I. And Phil ejecting me from practice…that was much worse than a physical blow.

He wouldn’t kick me off the team, would he? This was
my
team, damn it! Phil had told me so. But he’d looked so furious, so…
disappointed
. My stomach tightened just remembering his face. I wondered how getting booted from the team would affect my mom’s political chances. I flashed back to her campaign speech at Highbanks in the spring, when she’d announced,
“I love our state so much I sent my son Dane to play for the Cougars!”
The crowd had roared with chants of
“Go, Monroe! Go, Monroe!”

Of course my dad hadn’t been there that day. He’d probably been off with his floozy mistress, soaking up her adoring praise of his precious paintings. How could he have betrayed Mom like that? And how could she possess the strength to run for president when her marriage had crumbled like a stale piece of coffee cake?

I fought off an image that invaded my consciousness, but it wouldn’t go away: a woodsy path, the canopy of trees, my dad looking to the sky.
“What a relief to get that off my chest.”

Thanks, Dad. I’m so glad
you’re
relieved now
. My hands tingled with the urge to shake him.

I pushed off my bed and stalked out of the room. Brad lounged at the kitchen table reading some papers, but I ignored him as I walked by and headed to the fridge. I shoved aside some protein shakes and cans of soda and hunted around for several moments, but I couldn’t find what I wanted. “Where’s the beer?” I yelled.

“Uh,
that
.” Brad grimaced. “Frank said our boss stopped by for an inspection last night. He went apeshit when he found alcohol in the presence of minors.”

I gasped as I clutched the fridge door. “
No
.” In a few strides I made it to the cabinet next to the sink, and my stomach sank when I found it empty. “No, not the liquor, too!
Christ.
”

“You’re nineteen,” he said.

As if that matters
. I straightened and glared at him.

“And Lucia’s only eighteen.”

“I don’t give a damn about Lucia. And I’m almost twenty, by the way.”

Brad shook his head. “Still not legal. We’re lucky we weren’t fired over this.”

“Too bad you weren’t.” My eyes narrowed, and he returned my glare. I tried to unclench my fists. “You have to take me to a bar, then.”

“Dude, did you hear what I said? I’m not taking you to get booze. And besides, just how would you order a drink, Mr. Underage?”

Shit
. The fake ID Josh had gotten for me our freshman year would hardly work now that the media had plastered my face all over television. Dumbass presidential race.

“Have you talked to your mom?” he asked.

I felt heat rise to my face. “Why would I do that?”

“She’s worried about you. Steve called me—he said you weren’t answering your cell phone.”

Mom’s pussy campaign manager could go screw himself. She’d been the one to sic my dad on me, therefore she was the last person I wanted to talk to. “C’mon, go buy me some beer, Brad. It’s no big deal.”

“No can do, Danester. Why don’t you join China in the weight room downstairs? The punching bag’s a great stress release.”

“She’s a bitch. I don’t want to be anywhere
near
her.”

China’s voice came from behind me. “I thought I told you to go to your room.”

Whoops
—her pissed-off tone made it clear she’d overheard me. I wheeled around. “And I told
you
that you weren’t my fucking mother.”

“When you act like a child, I’ll treat you like one.” Sweat beaded on her forehead. “Really, Dane. Telling your head coach to fuck off? Then
shoving
your assistant coach? You’re out of control.”

I scoffed. She thought
this
was out of control?
Ya ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

“What’d your father say to you to make you this unhinged?”

“None of your goddamn business.” My dad’s words competed with the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears:
“You’ll keep it secret, of course. An affair getting out would destroy your mother’s campaign.”
I clenched my teeth. “Just stay out of my life, both of you. I don’t need babysitters!”

China’s face reddened as she blew out air. “That’s our job, to protect you. But we don’t get paid near enough to tolerate crap like this. Just go back to your room, Dane.”

“You can’t order me around!”

“The hell I can’t.” When she darted toward me, I let out a surprised laugh. Then she was on me, and before I knew it, she’d locked my elbows behind me with one arm. Her other arm tightened across my chest, pressing down on my lungs. I could smell the disgusting man-sweat pouring off her bulging muscles.

“Get your sweaty paws
off
me!” I strained to wiggle out of her lockdown hold to no avail. My right shoulder screamed with pain.
Crap
—I couldn’t afford an injury. But I was so ticked off I kept thrashing in her arms.

“Stop struggling!” At least she was breathing hard too. She pushed into me, and I took a stutter step toward my bedroom. “Go to your room!”

There was no way in hell I’d let a woman take control of me. I dug in my heels and strained my quad muscles, managing to stand my ground despite her forceful shoves. Our grunts filled the kitchen.

“Brad!” she panted.

He stood by the table watching the showdown, arms folded across his massive chest, a big grin on his face. Once I got free of China, I was going to kill him.

I wasn’t wearing shoes, but I stomped my socked foot down on China’s sneaker hard enough to elicit a yelp. “Son of a bitch!” she hollered, then tightened her grip.

“My shoulder,” I groaned.

“China.” Brad wasn’t smiling anymore. “Let him go. We don’t want to hurt him.”

“I’m not…hurting him.” The force of her push intensified. “I’m teaching…this…little…shit a lesson.”

“China.” His voice sharpened.

From her throat came a sound like a grizzly bear in heat. “Damn!”

In an instant, I was free. My shoulder throbbed, and I spun around to face the aggressor. “Don’t you fucking touch me again!”

“Go to your
room
.” Her chest heaved.

Brad stepped between us. “China, hit the weights.” He looked at me. “Go somewhere and chill.”

“Are you going to let her get
away
with that?” I pointed at the she-beast. “She attacked me!”

“Dane,
go
.” When I didn’t move, he added, “And I’m not buying you alcohol.”

“You’re
both
assholes!” I stomped out of the kitchen and into my bedroom, throwing the door closed behind me. The damn ergonomic hinges didn’t provide nearly the satisfying slam I wanted, though. Mother-effing greenhouse!

I searched my room for something to crush. My hands itched with the desire to destroy.

“What a relief to get that off my chest.”
He’d thrown his head back and looked at the sky with a peaceful smile.

“Fuck!” My body buzzed with rage as I paced. God, did I need a drink. Then my feet froze. I hopped over to the window to peek out the thick wooden blinds, and I liked what I saw. “Bingo.”

I inched up to my door and listened to my agents’ hushed voices, undoubtedly discussing what a nightmare I was to protect.
Shitheads
. When the voices died off, I shoved gym shoes on my feet and waited a few minutes. Then I strolled out to the kitchen.

Brad looked up from his papers.

I swallowed, then let out a breath. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

When he cocked his head, suspicion still evident, I knew I had to be more convincing.

“Dude, you realize how humiliating it was for a
woman
to dominate me like that? I lost my shit. Sorry.”

“China’s not any woman. She’s trained to take people down.”

“I see that.” I rubbed my shoulder. “And, I’m taking your advice. I’ll work out with her, try to get strong like her.”

He smiled. “Good idea.”

“Would you…?” I chewed my lip. “Would you go down there, ask if she’d let me join her?”

Brad hesitated.

“She doesn’t like me very much, but you have a good way with her. Please, Brad? Grease the wheels a little for me?”

He got up. “Sure. Give me a couple minutes. I’ll get her to come around.”

“Thanks, man.”

He headed to the basement, and I patted the back pocket of my khaki shorts to double-check that my wallet was there. Butterflies dive-bombed my stomach as my heartbeat kicked up a notch—just like the excitement I felt before a big match. When I was sure he was safely downstairs, I crept to the foyer, hoping they couldn’t hear my footsteps in the basement. I scanned the camera feed of the area beyond the gates and my eyes landed on a curvy blonde.
Okay, that one
.

I lunged for the front door and heard the alarm sound behind me as I flew through it. I sprinted for the gate, and the flock of media fluttered and scrambled for their cameras.

“
Dane!”
Brad hollered from the bowels of the house, and I knew I only had seconds to make my getaway. I scaled the seven-foot gate with ease and heard snapping cameras as I climbed over the metal spikes. With grace, I hopped to the concrete.

“You!” I panted as I pointed at the blond reporter. Flashbulbs blinded me. “You want an exclusive?”

Her eyes lit up. “You bet!”

“Then get me outta here, and you got it.”

Her head bobbed, and she scuttled to a TV news van with her cameraman in tow. The other reporters shouted questions at me.

“Not him.” I jerked my thumb at the idiot with the bulky video camera. “Just you.”

She halted.

“Dane Monroe!” China burst through the front door with Brad on her heels. “Stay right there!”

I swiveled back to face Blondie. “Now or never—how bad do you want this story? But your cameraman’s not coming with.”

She exchanged a look with him then nodded. “Okay, get in.”

As I hustled around the van to the passenger side, I had to weave in and out of reporters hurling questions my way. I heard the house gates slide open over their shouts and the rush of blood in my head.
Please get me outta here
. Hoping for the best, I ducked into the van, and we screeched out onto the neighborhood street.

I peered over my shoulder and felt a colossal grin spread on my face. The media had parked their vans and cars up against the gate, and they now stood in the way of my pursuers’ SUV. In a gorgeous twist of events, the reporters chasing after me with questions meant they wouldn’t be around to move their cars anytime soon. As we sped away, the last sounds I heard were China’s frustrated honks.

“Where to?” Blondie asked.

I eyed her long, styled hair and luscious rack as my heartbeat slowed. “Kroger. I need you to buy me some groceries.”

She gave me a sideways glance.

“I’ll pay, of course.”

“That’s not what worries me. Why’d you hightail it out of there just to buy groceries? The agents could get those for you.”

I angled my body toward her and wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. Maybe that getaway sprint had made up for lost conditioning from leaving practice early. “What’s your name?”

“Beverly Jackson.” She extended her right arm from the driver’s seat, took her eyes off the road, and shook my hand.