Drunk Dial (Hard Core #1) (Hard Core Series) (14 page)

BOOK: Drunk Dial (Hard Core #1) (Hard Core Series)
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“I can defend myself,” I assured her. Rachel knew I carried a gun and could handle myself in close quarters combat. “It’s you I’m worried about. What if Jordan comes when I’m not here?”

“You really think he’d do that?” She rolled her lip between her teeth. “But isn’t there some kind of protective order? Doesn’t he have to stay away from you?”

“He does, but that doesn’t mean he will.” Jordan had never been big on following the rules, and I imagined seven years in prison had made him even more averse to obeying authority. “Coop said he’d try to patrol our area and put the word out to his buddies on the beat, but he can only do so much. He can’t watch our backs twenty-four, seven.”

“That’s why you parked Pearl.” Rachel sighed. “I should have known something was up when Ash lent you his car. He loves that car.”

“He didn’t want me to take the chance of riding her,” I admitted. “I hate that I’m changing my life so much, living in fear of a son of a bitch who’s already taken so much from me, but what choice do I have, right?”

I was stronger than I’d been back then: mentally, physically, and emotionally. But experience had taught me that no one was a match for a madman wielding a gun while threatening the lives of everyone you loved if you didn’t succumb to his demands.

“How did York react when you told him?”

“He’s concerned, obviously. But he never made me feel like it was my fault.” That had been my underlying fear all along, that he would think less of me for being stupid enough to marry a man who would do those things.

“It’s not your fault,” Rachel said, sounding appalled. “God, don’t even think that.”

I was glad I’d told her the truth. Coming clean felt better than I thought it would, especially since the people I’d confided in were offering me support I hadn’t even realized I needed.

“Enough about him,” I said, pressing my fingertips against my temple when I felt the threat of another headache. “I just wanted you to know so you could be more cautious. Now that you know, let’s talk about something else. Like Ace. How’s that going?”

She smiled, but I couldn’t help noticing she didn’t light up the way she used to when we talked about my brother. I hoped, for her sake, that she’d given up on Ash. I’d hate to think she was letting her feelings for him influence her relationship with a guy who really seemed to care about her.

“He’s great. Really,” she said, gripping my hand when I narrowed my eyes. “I should thank York for introducing us. It’s been a long time since a guy has made me a priority in his life. It’s nice.”

Since she was my best friend, I had to ask, “But is he the right guy, Rach?”

“I want him to be.” She closed her eyes, then took a deep breath as she stared straight ahead at the blank TV screen. “I keep trying not to compare Ace to your brother, but I can’t help myself. What the hell is wrong with me? I have a great guy in my life, and I’m wasting time thinking about a man who never gave a shit about me.”

“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” I said, thinking about Ash’s reaction when he learned Rachel was seeing Ace. “I think Ace cared about you as much as he’s cared about anyone. But it just wasn’t enough. You wanted, needed, and deserved more than he could give.”

“Right,” she said, sounding resolute. “And that’s why I need to forget about him and focus on what I have with Ace. Because he really could be everything I’ve ever wanted.”

I thought of the way I felt when I was with York as I sank back against the cushions, still gripping one of the handmade pillows Rachel loved. “Does he turn you on? Does he make you feel like you can never get enough of him?”

She sat back beside me, shoulder to shoulder, her feet stretched out on the coffee table as she wiggled her freshly painted lilac toes. “He’s hot. There’s no question about that. The sex is great.”

“But?” I tipped my head to look at her. “Don’t even tell me there isn’t a but, girl. I know you too well.”

“Ugh.” She groaned, rolling her head back. “What is wrong with me? Why can’t I just be happy with what I have instead of wanting something more?”

“What more do you want?” I asked, nudging her shoulder. “More orgasms? More oral?”

She giggled, blushing. “No. Not more like that. I just want…”

“Tell me.” Since I’d already told her my deep, dark secret, I wanted her to feel free to tell me anything.

“I want him to make me feel the way Ash did when we were together.”

I hadn’t realized it until right that second, but my big brother had really done a number on her. I was going to have to smack him upside the head the next time I saw him.

“Maybe you’ll find someone who will make you feel that way,” I said, sincerely hoping she would. “It could be Ace isn’t supposed to be your forever guy. Maybe he’s just the one who’s supposed to make you believe it’s possible to forget about Ash.”

“Maybe,” she said, reaching for my hand. “Promise you won’t tell Ash I’ve still got a thing for him?”

“Your secret’s safe with me, hon.” Always.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

York

 

“Your brother tells me you’ve got a new girlfriend,” my dad said when Wes stepped outside to take a call. We were dining at my father’s favorite restaurant, a little hole-in-the-wall Italian joint in our old neighborhood with lasagne that reminded him of my mother’s cooking.

“Wes has a big mouth,” I muttered, reaching for my water glass.

“Does that mean you’re not going to tell me about her?” he asked, drawing his bushy gray eyebrows together as he folded his arms over his barreled chest.

“We’re taking it slow,” I said, hoping that would be enough for him to take the hint I didn’t want to talk about it. I’d thought of Lacy every minute since I dropped her off, but I wasn’t ready to talk about my feelings for her. Not even to my old man, who’d always been my sounding board.

“Is that because you’re afraid of getting hurt again?”

I knew he was referring to my relationship with Michelle, which seemed like a blip on the radar screen compared to my feelings for Lacy. “Putting yourself out there is never easy, Dad. But you wouldn’t know that, since you refuse to date.” I felt guilty when a flash of pain crossed his face before he looked away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” he said, raising a calloused hand. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re right. I don’t have any right to tell you boys how to live your lives when I don’t have much of a life myself.”

“Do you ever get lonely?” I asked, feeling guilty that I couldn’t spend more time with him. He had a group of friends he played cards and watched sports with, but I wondered if that was enough now that he no longer had work to keep him occupied.

“Sometimes, but when you find the love of your life at eighteen, it’s hard to imagine ever finding another woman to take her place, son.”

My gut twisted when I thought of the kind of love my parents had shared. My father had sat by her bed during the grueling treatments, holding her when she cried out in pain and crying on her shoulder when she finally slipped away. I’d never seen him as broken as he was the day we had to say our final good-byes to her, and I’d always felt we lost a part of him that day too.

“Maybe you could find a different kind of love,” I said, hoping that was possible for him. I didn’t want to see him grow old alone, feeling miserable because the best years of his life were behind him. “It may not compare to what you had with Mom, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t be good.”

“A widow moved in just down the street from me.” His weathered cheeks turneding a ruddy shade as he cleared his throat. “I met her at a neighborhood potluck a few weeks back. She asked me to a movie.”

“And?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know if I should go. I like her. I mean, she seems like a nice lady, but—”

“Dad, I know you loved Mom. We all know that. But she wouldn’t want you to stop living just because she’s gone. You devoted your life to raising us, but we’re all grown up now. It’s time for you to focus on your life.”

“Then you think I should go out with her?” he asked, stroking his white goatee. “I don’t know, York. What the hell do I know about dating these days?”

“I doubt things have changed that much. Women are still women, Dad. They like flowers and candy, dancing and sappy movies.” I chuckled, thinking of Lacy. “They even like it when you open their car doors for them, I think.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it. So I’ve told you what’s going on with me. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about this new lady in your life.”

Since Wes still had his phone to his ear as he paced the sidewalk, I knew it would be a few more minutes before we could order.

“What can I tell you about her?” I grinned, thinking a dating service wouldn’t have been able to find a woman better suited to me. “She’s into kickboxing. She loves mixed martial arts. She works part-time as a bartender.” I laughed when my father’s jaw dropped. “I haven’t told you the best part. She rides a Harley named Pearl. Oh, and she carries a gun.” Not to mention the colorful ink decorating her back… that I wanted to trace with my tongue every time I caught a glimpse of it.

“Shut the hell up.”

I grinned. I knew he’d think Lacy sounded perfect for me, which was why I’d hesitated to tell him about her. I didn’t want him to get carried away. Especially since he didn’t know her story. Nor could I tell him.

“I’m serious,” I said.

I glared at Wes when he came back into the restaurant, both because he’d bailed on us to take a call and because he’d outed me to our old man. I would have told Dad about Lacy eventually. When the time was right. But I would have appreciated being the one to decide that.

Wes rubbed his hands together when he reclaimed his seat. “Sorry about that, guys. So what’d I miss?”

“I was just filling Dad in on Lacy. Thanks for telling him about her, by the way,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Hey, no problem,” Wes said, grinning. “If we’re talking about your personal life, it means we’re not talking about mine, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re an ass, Wes.”

 

***

 

I was a little nervous when I got called to the big boss’s office later that day. He was a former professional fighter who’d teamed up with an investor ten years ago to start what was now considered the premiere MMA promoter in the world. He was rumored to be a billionaire, but you’d never know it to look at him. He was in his mid- to late-thirties and looked just like any other fighter—ripped with tats and an ever-present two-day beard. Word on the street was he’d been in prison for manslaughter, but he’d never denied or confirmed it, and no one had the guts to ask.

“Sit down, York,” he said, gesturing to the leather chair on the opposite side of his desk.

“What’s up, Boss?” His name was Dante Masi, but everyone called him Boss.

“You gearing up for your fight with Morales?” he asked, steepling his fingers in front of him as he rested his elbows on the arms of his leather swivel chair.

“Uh, yeah, I just got back in the gym. I took a break after the last fight, as you know. But it feels good to be back.”

“I don’t have to tell you how much we have riding on this fight. I need you and Morales to be in the best shape of your lives. We have to give the fans the fight they paid to see. You got me?”

“Yeah, sure.” I’d broken into professional fighting because Dante believed in me when no one else would give me a chance to prove myself. I owed him a hell out of a lot, and we both knew it. “You know I’d never let you down.”

“I know, man.” He raked a hand through his short black hair. “I know.”

“You okay? You seem a little off today.”

While Dante maintained a professional distance with most of his fighters, I was one of the first he’d signed and I’d helped put his new company on the map, so we’d crossed the line into friend territory years ago. I could ask him questions no one else would dare.

“Do I?” He chuckled. “I was just trying to remember the last time I took a day off, and I couldn’t.” His eyes were dark, his expression brooding. “I’ve got no fuckin’ life. This place is my life.”

An introspective Dante was so far removed from the composed, all-business man I knew that I was a little taken aback. “So take a day off,”

“And what would I do?” He stared at me as though he expected me to have all the answers. “I have no hobbies. This company has been my dream for so long, I haven’t made time to think about anything else. I thought it would distract me. When I was on the inside…” He looked at me, waiting for my reaction.

“So, uh, the rumors are true? You spent time in the joint?”

“Yeah.” His jaw clenched. “Should have been ten years. I got out after seven, for good behavior.”

I thought of Lacy’s ex, who should have spent a hell of a lot longer behind bars than he did, but I couldn’t imagine Dante doing the things that dirtbag had done. “You mind telling me what happened?” I probably shouldn’t ask, but he’d opened the door and couldn’t blame me for being curious.

“I was driving drunk.” He spit the words out as though they were no more palatable after years of stewing on them. “Just a stupid kid. Barely seventeen. My buddies and I went to a bush party. Man, we thought we were invincible back then.”

“I remember what that was like,” I said, thinking of some of the mistakes I’d made with my friends when we were young and stupid.

“I should never have been behind the wheel. I’d been drinking all goddamn night. So had my friends, which I guess explains why they were dumb enough to climb into a car with me at the end of the night.”

I had a feeling I knew where this was going, but I remained silent, giving him the time to tell his story in his own way.

“Long story short, I hit a telephone pole. My best friend was killed instantly.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Boss.” I could tell it still haunted him. Not that I could blame him. If I’d been responsible for Ace’s death, I’d never have been able to live with the guilt.

“You want to know the worst part?” he asked, looking me in the eye as though he was searching for the disgust he expected to find. “He was my girlfriend’s twin brother.”

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