by Kay Manis
“Thanks, man.”
“For what?” he asked.
“For believing me, for believing in me.”
“Look, Rory, it’s not my place to judge. I’m sick that Hindley is hurting so badly, but I’m not convinced it’s totally your fault.”
“Have you told her that?”
“No.”
I sagged in disappointment.
“It’s not my place, Rory. I won’t jeopardize my friendship with her, not now.”
“I know, and I understand. I’m thankful she has you.”
Luis opened his mouth to ask the first question.
“Don’t.” I raised my hand to stop him.
“Rory, you need to be prepared for Paloma’s questions.”
“I already am. I don’t want my answers to be rehearsed. I want them to come from my heart. I know what the truth is and that’s the story I intend to tell.”
“Are you sure?”
“Look, Luis, I have nothing to hide. Losing Hindley has been the worst possible thing that could ever happen to me. There’s no question Paloma can throw at me that I won’t answer honestly and truthfully if it means we might have a chance at reconciliation.”
“Okay, man, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I won’t.” I laughed. “So, Michael leaked my story?”
Luis nodded, snorting in irritation.
“I didn’t even know he knew I couldn’t read. Did Hindley tell him?”
“Hindley didn’t say shit to anyone. Not even to me until the night you went off the deep end. I confronted Axel and he confirmed that he’d had a conversation with Michael a few weeks prior. Axel threatened Michael as well about going public with your story if he didn’t get a deal like you did.”
“God, I feel awful for what Hindley went through for me. I’m such an asshole.”
“Yeah, you kind of are.”
“You ready, Rory?” A woman wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard stuck her head around the corner.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I pushed out of the chair.
“You’ll be fine, man.” Luis shook my hand and hit my arm with a fist, giving me his own brand of confidence.
“Maybe one day,” I said.
He nodded, but the truth no one seemed to understand was that without Hindley in my life, I would never be fine again.
Chapter 33
-RORY-
I’d been to the X Games six times since I’d gone pro so you’d think I’d be used to the media frenzy and drama, especially because I was going for gold medal number eleven. But the crowd today was different, borderline insane. Reporters and TV crews from around the world were packed in the press area, all vying for an opportunity to speak with me.
Since my interview with Paloma had aired two days ago, I’d become somewhat of an overnight sensation, in a good way. But it was all stress I didn’t need right now.
I’d hoped to hear from Hindley after the airing of the show but no such luck. I even tried to call her once but wasn’t surprised when I heard the number was no longer in service. It took every ounce of strength I had in me not to beg Luis for her new phone number. I refused to put him in the middle. He’d become too good of a friend to jeopardize our relationship.
“Holy shit, man, look at all these crazy bastards.” Leif shouted over the roar of the crowd.
I was so thankful he’d come with me, even if it was to promote his own business. Having him near always settled my nerves. Not nearly as much as having Hindley, but it helped.
“So what’s the story, morning glory?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You doing The Helly today or what?”
“I don’t know if I’m feeling it.”
“Feeling it? Since when do you have to feel it? Just go out there and do it.”
I smiled as one word came to mind. Tactile. God, I missed Hindley. Every fuckin’ day.
“This crowd is insane,” my fellow competitor and friend, Buzz Dahlke, shouted above the noise as he slapped my back. “You going for it today or what?”
“Going for what?”
“For what?” He laughed, nudging Leif. “The president’s daughter, you moron. The Helly, dumbass. Are you going to do The Helly?”
“Why is everyone so obsessed with my move?”
“Um, because it’s bad ass and if you stick it, you’re all but assured a medal, golden boy.”
“This is just the preliminaries,” I said.
“All the better reason to try it out,” Leif added. “No pressure to get it right.”
“There’s always pressure. I never want to try a trick unless I’m one hundred percent convinced I can stick it.”
“Oh, shit,” Buzz shouted. “Hold me back.”
I didn’t have to ask who. Hell, I didn’t even have to look to know he was talking about Axel.
Since the show had aired, it had come out that Axel was part of the leak as well as my own law firm. Unfortunately, I was tied to Stedwick and Nigh for another nine months, but Luis assured me he was trying to work his legal-eeze to get me out of the contract. Even though it went against all of Luis’s principles, he’d promised to stay with the firm until he got me through this crazy time. I was truly in his debt.
Luis planned to base my contract renegotiation on the premise of defamation of character, although technically, it had helped my public image.
My fans and the world in general were in love with the illiterate, abused underdog from the rough streets of Denver, Colorado. I’d received emails, letters, cards, and Internet posts out the wazoo in support. I’d even had offers from illiteracy groups and educational entities, asking for my backing and support.
I never thought in a million years anyone would ever want me to be the spokesperson who encouraged adults and kids alike to read. There was only one person responsible for my overnight success, and I missed her more than words could ever convey.
Now, here I stood on the platform of the X Games, trying to make a comeback and win my eleventh gold medal. I was more nervous than a whore in church, my hands wringing with sweat. I couldn’t tell if the nerves were for the competition, my desire to kick Axel’s ass, or the thrill of knowing that maybe, just maybe, Hindley would be watching me.
“She’s out of the country.” Luis interrupted my thoughts.
“Who?”
“The girl you just had on your mind.”
“What do you mean, she’s out of the country?”
“Dana took her down to some tropical island to get her mind off of everything. I think she chose a location so remote, they wouldn’t get Internet, television, or phone signal, so Hindley wouldn’t be tempted to watch you.”
Well, fuck. “Are you serious?” I’d hoped that Hindley had seen my interview with Paloma, but if what Luis had said was true, she hadn’t seen a thing. And now she wasn’t even going to see me skate. I was more defeated than ever.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, man.” Luis shrugged, his disappointment just as evident as mine. “I did try to talk to her though.”
“You did?” I sounded like a twelve-year-old schoolgirl. “What did you say?”
“She’s not ready to talk yet.”
“Do you think she’ll ever be?”
He rolled his eyes.
I knew the answer. No. She was well on her way to hating me forever and the thought had my stomach twisted in knots. I had no idea how in the hell I was ever going to compete in this state.
“You’ve got to pull yourself together, man. Seriously,” Leif said, obviously frustrated by my attitude.
I sucked in a deep breath to steady my emotions. Leif was right. If this truly was over with Hindley, I had to get my shit together and carry on, even though I knew in my heart I would never skate the same without her. Hell, I wouldn’t even be able to walk, talk, or breathe the same without her.
I turned to Leif and Buzz who’d been hanging on my every word. They’d been in my corner and supporting me in my fight to
win Hindley back from the beginning, just as much as Luis had.
Fuck it. I had to take the first step toward life without Hindley Hagen, no matter how terrifying and painful it was. “I’m gonna do it, man!”
“Fuck, yeah.” Buzz hollered. “Woo-hoo. He’s back.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely back.”
Leif grinned, slapping me on the back. “We’ll take whatever part of you we can get, man.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“How the fuck did you hear that thing ring over this crowd, man?” Buzz laughed.
“Vibrate,” Leif said, as if Buzz was a moron. “Hello!” he shouted into the phone, shoving his finger in his other ear. “What?” His brows furrowed. “What happened?”
His face washed ashen and my stomach dropped. Was it Jack? Was it Kara? Instinctively, I knew something terrible had happened.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Leif ended the call.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
He stared at me blankly, eyes wide, fear etched across his face.
“Just tell me, Leif.”
“It’s Hindley.”
Fuck.
Chapter 34
-HINDLEY-
“A fucking hurricane!” Dana yelled, banging the ticket counter.
“Ma’am, please, mind your language,” the airline lady politely scolded. Her eyes darted around the gate area. Hundreds of other passengers sat about, anxiously waiting for the departure of a nonexistent plane.
I rolled my eyes at the woman. If she only knew Dana, she’d realize this was tame for her. And she’d be thanking the stars above and kissing those silver wings on her shirt that Dana didn’t burst out in a song full of expletives that would have a sailor turning red with embarrassment.
This was just our luck. Leave it to Dana to book a trip to the Cayman Islands smack dab in the middle of hurricane season. I loved her to death, but she wasn’t the brightest bulb on the tree. Hurricane Ethan was making his fury known up and down the Caribbean and was headed straight for the Gulf of Mexico, promising to be one of the largest storms in recent years.
“Hey.” I pulled on Dana’s arm, trying to get her away from the glaring eyes of all the moms with small children who were silently burning her at the stake. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”
“I can’t believe this, Hindley. Of all the days. That stuck-up airline bitch pretty much guaranteed all the flights would be canceled.”
“Dana, I don’t want to get on an airplane heading toward a tropical island that’s smack dab in the eye of a hurricane, I don’t care how fruity the drinks are.”
The tiniest promise of a smile swept across her face. “I’m really sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because. This was supposed to be…” She waved a hand in the air then dropped it with a huff.
I knew exactly what she had been about to say and I didn’t want to hear it. “Look, I’m fine. I wish you and my mom and Paul would get that.”
“How the fuck can you be fine, Hindley? That prick cussed you out in front of like a zillion people and put it on display on every social media site for the whole goddamn world to see. And if that wasn’t bad enough, then the scumbag goes and fucks your stepsister. Hello? Am I the only one here who’s getting this? I can’t believe you’re not more upset.”
“I am upset, Dana. I’ve cried so much, I don’t have anymore tears left. What do you want me to do? Lay down and die?”
“No, I’m just worried about you.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.
Her feelings had nothing to do with Rory and everything to do with the way I normally handled stressful events in my life. “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl. Look, it’s late and we’ve been at the airport for like five hours. Let’s go home.”
“No. I refuse to give up. We’re going somewhere.”
“Really, Dana, you don’t have to do this. I’ll be fine, I swear.”
“Look, go have a drink at the bar. I’m going to head back to the ticket counter and see if we can cash our tickets in and head somewhere north. Maybe New York City?”
I knew better than to argue with her when she made her mind up to do something. Instead, I nodded, picked up my carry-on bag, and headed toward the bar.
I pitched my bag under the counter and slid up on one of the wooden stools.
“What’s your pleasure, little lady?” the bartender asked with a warm smile.
“To get out of this airport. And soon.”
“I hear you.” He laughed, wiping down the bar in front of me. “Until then, how about something to wet your whistle?”
I wasn’t in the mood to drink, not today anyway. “Do you have lemonade?”
“Nope. No lemonade. Sorry. How about some cranberry juice mixed with seltzer water? It’s one of my trade secrets.” He cupped one hand around his mouth as if to hide the words from onlookers. “Then I throw in a little extra ingredient, but no one knows what it is.” He winked.
I was already in his trusted circle. I smiled, a genuine expression, for the first time in days. “That sounds perfect.”
“Coming right up then, little lady.” He knocked on the bar with his knuckles then slid a square paper napkin in front of me and headed away to prepare my drink. I dug around in my carry-on for my iPad. Now I could finish reading the article on fashion merchandising I’d started when we’d been waiting in the gate area for our plane. The one that never arrived. And probably never would.
Since I’d left the firm, I’d floundered around, trying to figure out what to do with my life. Ideas popped in my head all the time, but it was fashion design I always came back to. I also thought of the joy I experienced helping Rory learn to read. Maybe I should be a teacher.
I shook my head. No. No thoughts of Rory Gregor, it was my new mantra. One I wasn’t always good at keeping.
I took in a deep breath and set the iPad up on the bar, frustrated to see my battery was almost out. “Excuse me,” I asked the bartender, holding up my power cord. “Do you have a power outlet?”
“Not at the bar.” He pointed to a row of booths against one wall. “But there’s one at every booth over there.”
I stared around the restaurant area and suddenly my skin prickled. Staring back at me on at least ten different television screens was the man who’d once captured my heart. There was no place to escape from his face.
Glancing down at my napkin I noticed this wasn’t just any bar, it was a sports bar. How could I not have noticed that before?
The X Games logo flashed behind him on every television. Well, hell. So much for my mantra.
I stood paralyzed, staring at his gorgeous face. Rory was just as beautiful as ever and looked no worse for the wear, unlike me. The only indication that he may feel as shitty as me were the dark circles underneath his eyes. He must not be sleeping either.
I stumbled toward a booth and slowly sunk into the bench seat. The volume was muted and I thanked God I didn’t have to hear his voice.
Rory had left so many voice mail messages over the last two weeks, they’d filled up my entire inbox. I wanted to listen to every single message, to savor his voice, but I knew better. Or, at least I thought I did.
One rainy afternoon, against all my best intentions, I’d sat on my back porch all alone and played a few of them. It had been a mistake and I’d paid the price, spending the rest of the day and most of the night, curled up in a ball on my sofa, crying my eyes out as each message played over and over again in my mind, each one sounding more panicked than the one before.
His desperation echoed in every word. The old me wanted to call him, make sure he was all right, comfort him, care for him. But images of his body wrapped around Geneva’s as they rolled around in his hotel bed always ripped through my mind just as I was about to dial.
“Here’s your drink, little lady.” The bartender broke into my thoughts as he set the glass down.
The multitude of flat screen televisions closed
in on me like an angry mob.
“Big skateboarding fan?” He nodded toward the screen.
“You could say that.”
“So’s my son. He loves that guy.”
I stared at one of the screens, Rory’s face filling every inch. After zooming in, I could see he did look just as bad as I did. He’d lost weight, and there were no mischievous laugh lines around his lips when he smiled.
“I can’t remember his name,” the bartender said.
“Rory Gregor,” I whispered.
“That’s right.” The bartender nodded. “Rory. My boy has posters galore of that guy up all over his room. Even has some of Rory’s fancy skateboards too.”
I laughed to myself. That was the target demographic we’d aimed for.
“I don’t get it, personally.” He leaned against the side of the booth, obviously preparing himself for a long stay. “It’s a shame about what all he’s been through though.”
A shame? For Rory? I wanted to jump up and scream, “What about me, man?”
I slid to the edge of the booth to exit. “Umm, excuse me.”
“I saw his interview with that famous Paloma woman the other night,” he said, never moving. His attention remained glued to one of the televisions. “My boy can’t seem to get enough of him.”
I nodded my head, completely understanding his son’s affliction. I couldn’t blame him. I’d been caught in Rory’s web too.
“But after I saw what he did to that poor lady on the videos out on the internet, I pretty much told him ‘Chris, you can’t worship a guy like that, not when he treats women the way he did.’”
I wanted to vomit, or shove my iPad in his mouth to shut him up.
“But then my son forced me to watch that interview, and I tell you…” he paused.
Suddenly I found myself oddly engrossed in his story. I leaned forward. “And what?”
“Well, he’s had a really hard life that Rory fella. And the rumor is he was drugged.”
“Drugged?” I hadn’t heard that. Of course I’d purposely kept myself hidden away for several weeks to avoid anything to do with our story, so how would I have known.
