OGs: Deep Down (7 page)

She’d returned to the boat, begged to get her position back, and cried herself to sleep every damn night. Drake, snake that he was, had been coming after her since day one, and although she’d brushed him off, he somehow sensed she was destroyed after her little escape and started working her relentlessly until he’d ended up wearing her down. She had no experience with assholes, much less sneaky ones, and he had played her beautifully. How she hadn’t seen the real Drake was something that shamed her still. Mike had always taken care of her, always put her first. Drake? Drake was an ass who only had looks going for him. But she was depressed, alone, dancing two shows every night and then drinking too much. Not eating. She had difficulty sleeping; hell, she had trouble concentrating enough to read a menu. By the time her head cleared, she was pregnant and so deep in shit she couldn’t breathe. Literally.

Getting fired with a baby on the way hadn’t been fun. Drake had continued aboard the ship, and she’d faced the last months of pregnancy alone; childbirth too. He made an appearance after that, but as soon as it sank in what taking care of a baby entitled, he balked and renewed his contract on the cruise ship. That was much more glamorous. And carefree.

Trying to make a name for herself in the competitive world of dancing with a baby tagging along had been so hard she still didn’t know how she’d managed.

Angie leaned toward her, getting her out of her reverie, and murmured, “You know, Mike looks at you as if—”

“As if he would want to strangle me?” she offered.

“Sometimes. But other times, when you’re not watching, he looks at you with such longing.”

Kyra snorted. “Weren’t you with me two days ago at Bottoms Up? When he was following the swaying of that stripper?”

“Yes, and I was with you yesterday at the Shack when he was eating you with his eyes. Scratch that—when he was eating you with his eyes, his mouth, and his hands.”

Kyra didn’t want to think about it, especially as shivers of pleasure racked her body at the memory.

“He wanted to get laid, Angie,” she retorted. “Once I said no, he moved on to the next one.”

A redhead who hadn’t stopped pawing him the whole time.

Angie shrugged. “I’m not so sure. He can get laid anytime, anywhere. There’s something between you two.”

Kyra couldn’t refute that. A world of hurt was between them.

“He was desperate to contact you those last months when you were on the ship. And later when you didn’t come back to Alden. I told you.”

Kyra lowered her gaze. It was too late by then.

She hadn’t really expected things to go that far when she’d gone to the cruise, even after the huge blowout. She’d thought he would contact her and they would reach some sort of understanding, but it didn’t happen. And when he started calling, she was up shit creek, freaked out about her pregnancy, and furious with him for his betrayal.

“Mike seems kind of hostile, but I’d say this would be a good opportunity to smooth things between you guys,” Angie noted.

Kyra laughed drily. Yep, hostile was right.

He’d rather hang himself than spend any time with her. Or talk to her. Especially after the breakup party.

“Not even good enough for a rebound fuck?”

For a split second, before he’d covered it, she’d seen the deep hurt in his eyes.

He’d misunderstood her, but whatever. After the way he’d come on to her, that was the least he deserved, to think he wasn’t good enough even for a rebound fuck, which, of course, was so far from the truth it wasn’t funny. She would never tell him, but the truth of the matter was, Mike could never be a rebound thing for her. He would always be so much more. He could destroy her with a word. With a look. Mike was the kind of guy she would never bounce back from.
Had
never bounced back from, actually. After years of trying, she’d just managed a shaky truce with her heart that she couldn’t risk losing.

Mike didn’t seem to have that problem.

Yesterday, while in his arms, and before her mind had kicked in, she’d felt so content. She hadn’t felt so good in so long it’d scared the hell out of her, especially considering how tempted she’d been to take him up on his offer, never mind how crassly presented.

“No one here will do you the way I can.”

That, much to her shame, was true. There was nothing wrong with his cock. With his brain, though, that was up in the air. A miracle no one had cut off his balls and made him eat them.

Seeing him walking out with that redhead in tow, her oohing and aahing at every one of his words while feeling him up, had sucker punched Kyra. Again. She’d thought the stripper incident would have cured her, but it hadn’t. Even now, after all those years, she couldn’t see Mike with another woman.

After Ralf’s funeral, every time Kyra had asked about Mike, Angie had been close-lipped, but she’d managed to wring out of her friend what Mike had been doing. Which had turned out to be a hell of a lot of women. That knowledge had killed Kyra, but never mind how much he’d fucked around; apart from that time on his birthday, she hadn’t witnessed it. Except for yesterday with that redhead. Kyra hadn’t really seen them going at it, but watching them dance and fool around and then him walk out of the Shack with her had been enough.

Did she still love Mike? Until she couldn’t breathe for the need of him. Was she going to become one of his bed playmates? No way in hell.

“Mommy!” Sam came running to her, two cones in her hands, a bright smile on her face, and Kyra’s stomach somersaulted. Sam threw herself at her, coating herself and Kyra with the ice cream.

Kyra loved that little girl so much.

Sam looked at Angie, and her smile fell. “I couldn’t carry three,” she apologized. “We can share.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m good. I spend all my days sitting in a chair. I need to watch what I eat.”

“We don’t. We dance, right, Mom?” she said, smacking an ice-cream-laced kiss on Kyra’s cheek.

She hugged her daughter tight, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Sam was all that mattered now.

There was no Mike and her. They shared a past, but that was water under the bridge. There was nothing to be done. Nothing to be salvaged between them. And that was just as well. She was going to concentrate on taking care of Sam and staying the hell out of Mike’s way until she could get out of Dodge.

* * * *

“You got to be kidding me. Are you telling me that my six-year-old, barely fifty-pound daughter did this?” a slack-jawed Kyra asked as she stared horrified at the splintered wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor mirror in front of her and then at her pouting girl. “Single-handedly?”

From the damage, one would think King Kong and Godzilla had been playing catch.

She was standing in Haddican’s. Mike’s family’s gym. Surrounded by Mike’s family. Thank God he wasn’t present.

Not only were all the mirrors trashed, but the parquet floor was covered with paint. Splatters of it were all over the place. Ceiling. Walls. The broken mirrors. Her daughter.

She’d almost had a heart attack when Wilma called and told her there had been an incident with Sam. Arriving at the gym and seeing all the other mothers marching out of the building with their crying kids, shaking their heads, and frowning reprovingly at her hadn’t helped matters.

She’d run to her daughter, scared shitless something had happened to her.

“Yep, single-handedly. Well, aided by those two big ladders she managed to make bump into each other and topple into the mirrors,” Mike’s father, Dan, answered. “Although I’m sure she didn’t mean to.”

Thank God. She shuddered to think what kind of mayhem Sam would accomplish if she put her mind to it.

“Marcy said I wasn’t a convincing bee, and she pushed me first,” her daughter replied stubbornly. She had a broken wing, and her bee antennae were never going to be straight again, but she was otherwise unharmed. “I’m sorry. I meant to pull at her ponytail. I didn’t mean for this. It’s a domina effect.”

“Domino effect, sweetie. Domino effect,” Dan repeated, his lips quirking up.

“Well, if one takes into consideration the state of this place after she was done, maybe ‘domina’ is the right word, right, Dad?” Sara, Mike’s younger sister, said, laughing.

Dan nodded, now fully smiling.

He so much resembled his son Kyra couldn’t look at him. She turned her gaze to her daughter. “What are you guys doing rehearsing here? Weren’t you supposed to be at the community center?” Because that was where she’d dropped her a couple of hours ago. If she’d known they would end up in the gym, she would have never agreed. Ever.

“They had painted the hallway, and the smell was too strong. There is not another place in Alden with a wall-to-wall mirror, so we came here,” Wilma explained, and Rebecca assented.

God, God, God. Out of all the places in Alden, they needed to come here to rehearse for that play. This gym had been like her second home; it was in all her fond memories. This place and Mike. That was why, since her forced return to Alden, she hadn’t come close to it with a ten-foot pole. Hell, she went to great lengths to avoid walking by it, and taking into consideration the gym stood smack center of Main Street, well, one could see how difficult that had been. She’d been going around like a nutcase.

“The other girls? Marcy—”

“All unharmed,” Dan said. “Marcy too, for the most part. She’ll have a sore scalp for the day.”

“And a handful fewer hairs,” Rebecca added.

“Sam!” Kyra said reprovingly.

“Mom, she was nasty.”

“That’s not a valid excuse, Sam. You’re going to have to apologize to her.”

Sam frowned but finally nodded.

“To them too,” she said, pointing at Mike’s family.

This time the apology came from her heart. Sam looked at Mike’s dad. “I’m very, very, very sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Dan ruffled her hair. “I know, sweetie. No harm done.”

Yeah, no harm done. Right.

Kyra glanced around, forlorn, and clutched her bag. Her very empty bag with her very, very empty purse. “Hmm…how much do I owe you?”

She didn’t have this kind of money. One hand mirror? Two? Yeah, she could afford that. Probably. This? Ha. Not a chance in hell. Hopefully, they could work out some installment plan.

Rebecca, Dan, and Sara exchanged glances.

“Are you hungry, doll?” Mike’s mom Amanda asked. “I can fix you something.”

“Can I, Mommy?”

“Sure,” Kyra said as her daughter was leaving the room hand in hand with Amanda and Wilma. “You and I will talk later, missy.”

And suddenly she was alone with Mike’s father, his younger sister, and his grandma. In his gym.

She had to get this thing dusted fast, before Mike came.

“She doesn’t play well with others,” she explained. “I’m sorry about this.”

Dan’s blue eyes went soft. “Nothing to feel sorry about. She’s a great kid. And Marcy is nasty. How’ve you been?”

She shrugged and smiled, feeling her cheeks heat. They’d once been close, but she’d been avoiding them. She hadn’t felt like catching up on old times, especially since all of them included Mike.

“I’m fine. Sorry about this,” she repeated. “These mirrors must be custom-made, right?”

Everyone nodded.

She took a deep breath. “How much?”

“I’m not going to accept your money,” Dan stated.

“No?”

“No. We are going to go for an alternate payment method. I’ll replace the mirrors, and you’ll repay me by working here as an aerobics instructor. I need to modernize this place. Appeal to a broader audience, not just men, so we’re going to start offering other types of classes besides karate and kickboxing and all that ass wiping my son specializes in.”

Shit.

“Oh, Dad, that is such a great idea!” Mike’s sister said before Kyra could get a word out. “Finally a place to get in shape! I want an abs-and-butts course. And some exotic aerobics. Oh, oh, and some fun workout with country music or rock. Yeah, better rock. I’m all over the schedule. We can fill most afternoons.”

Kyra was shaking her head. “I couldn’t. I don’t have anywhere to leave Sam in the afternoons. Thanks, but I’d rather pay.” She was going from here straight to the titty bar and was going to work a pole day and night until she had this debt settled, shoulder be damned. Or she’d borrow money from a loan shark. Anything would be preferable to working here with Mike.

“Not taking your money, Kyra,” Dan said firmly. “And as Sam is responsible for this, I think it would be a good idea for her to come a couple of days per week and help out.”

At that very moment Sam walked in with Amanda and a sandwich in her hand. “Me? Staying here to help? Yay!”

“But the rest of the days—” Kyra mumbled.

“I can watch Sam whenever you can’t leave her with Greta,” Rebecca offered.

“No. I can’t.”

“Then it’s settled,” Dan said, totally ignoring Kyra.

“No. Seriously. How much do I owe you for the mirrors?”

“I’ll withhold a percentage of your pay every week to cover the mirrors, and everyone is happy.”

No, not everyone was happy. Not at all.

She tried to refuse, but the Haddicans and Sam were all talking at once, so excited that they weren’t paying her any attention.

God, she needed to find a way out of this, before Mike found her there.

“What the hell?” she heard coming from behind her.

Too late.

Mike’s eyes widened as he took in the state of the place, and then hardened when they landed on her. “What the hell happened here?”

“We are taking up aerobics,” Sara squeaked. “And guess who is going to be leading booty camp?”

Chapter Four

Mike stepped into the gym after a short break, and the coffee he’d just gotten from the diner almost slipped from his hand.

He’d been gone for half an hour tops, and everything had been in order. Now the hallway was clogged with women in strings, carrying chairs.

“What the fuck, Sara? What is this?” he asked as he spotted his sister among them, holding her own folded chair.

“Today the exotic-aerobics class begins,” she said with a big smile. “This is going to be awesome. We have a full house.”