Playmaker

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Playmaker Page 5

by Jami Davenport


  Shoulders slumped, I trudged back to the car. Steele had loaded all the groceries and was leaning against the car, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes lasered into mine, and I shrugged.

  “What the fuck was that about?” He was visibly annoyed, which was unusual for him.

  “Sorry, I thought I saw someone.”

  “You thought you saw her?”

  “Yeah.” No point in denying the obvious. Steele knew me too well, and he’d spent the last few days on this island listening to my laments about love lost. I wasn’t surprised he’d finally lost patience with me.

  Without another word, he got in on the driver’s side, leaving me no choice but to get in on the passenger side.

  Steele’s driving made me crazy.

  “You fucking drive like an old lady,” I grouched, happy to take my frustrations out on him and looking for a good fight.

  Steele was just as happy to shoot right back, “You fucking drive like a NASCAR driver on the final lap of the race. I prefer to live past my twenties rather than die in a fiery crash that was preventable.”

  “I’m a good driver.”

  “You’re a shitty driver and unsafe as fuck.”

  “You drive so slow you’re a danger to everyone else on the road.”

  “I’m going the speed limit. It’s thirty-five.”

  I rolled my eyes. My car would easily take these winding roads at a much higher rate of speed than that, but Steele was a rule follower to the point of distraction. No wonder team management loved him. He’d never pull anything stupid like I had. My irritation spiked up a notch. He was too perfect, and I was too flawed. “I’d like to get there before all the food spoils.”

  “Fuck you.” Steele nudged his speed up to forty and kept his eyes on the road.

  I opened my mouth to pick another fight but snapped it shut. Instead, I gazed out the window and ran through the events of less than a half hour ago. I wanted so badly to find Lanie, I was seeing her everywhere.

  A few minutes later, we were at the cottage. I put away the groceries, while Steele carried the bags into the house. When we finished, he leaned against the counter and regarded me with a stern expression. I knew that look. He was in dad mode. I rolled my eyes and glared at him.

  “What happened today at the B and B?” Steele followed me out to the small deck. He sank into a chair and waited for my answer. I paced the deck.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” he countered in disbelief. “So nothing has you grouchier than Coach after we lose five to zero to the worst team in the league.”

  The words hung out there. The real comparison he wanted to make was how grouchy the coach was after three of us had been suspended after a bar brawl. “I said I was sorry.”

  “Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “Like hell you don’t. You’re still pissed at me.”

  He shrugged but didn’t take my bait. “So what happened at the B and B?”

  I sighed, knowing if I didn’t answer him, he’d make my life a living hell until I did. “Lanie had been there but she left about two weeks ago for Vancouver Island or Alaska. They didn’t know.”

  Steele nodded, but I saw the wheels turning. “Do you believe they were being honest?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t read people like you can.”

  “A guy learns stuff like that as a matter of survival.”

  I shot him a glance. This was the most he’d ever said about his past. His chin jutted out and he clenched his jaw, stubbornly determined not to offer any other details. I wasn’t getting much more than that out of him.

  “But you thought you saw her today?” Steele steered the conversation back to me. With a sigh, I sat down in the other deck chair and took the beer he offered me.

  “Yeah, stupid. I need to see her, so I see her everywhere. Every petite woman reminds me of her. I’m sure it wasn’t her. Why would these people at the B and B lie to me?”

  “Maybe she wants them to. You have to come to terms with the possibility she doesn’t want to see you again. You like to float through life like nothing matters but your next fuck or next game. She comes along and suddenly your life has meaning beyond hockey and partying. You don’t know what to do with yourself. This breaks the carefully crafted image you’ve had of yourself.”

  “I wish you’d quit with the psychoanalyzing. It’s annoying as hell.”

  Steele almost grinned. He took my insult as a compliment. I didn’t mean it that way.

  “Seriously, asshole. You’re pissing me off. We had epic sex, and sex like that is hard to walk away from.”

  Steele smirked, as if he knew something about me I didn’t know.

  “It’s true,” I insisted.

  “Uh-huh.” He sipped his beer and stared out at the water.

  “It is.”

  “Sure.”

  I’d had enough of his superior attitude. After heaving myself out of the deck chair, I stepped off the deck and made my way down to the water’s edge.

  “When’s dinner?” Steele called after me, and I flipped him off over my shoulder.

  I picked up a rock on the shoreline and threw it as far as I could into the swirling waters of Chinook Channel.

  I was discouraged and coming to terms with never seeing Lanie again. All in all, the day had been a shitty one from the moment I’d dragged my lazy ass out of bed this morning. I should’ve gone back to bed at the first ring of my phone.

  My parents had called, and I’d heard the weariness in their voices, the stress of trying to make ends meet when the resources didn’t match the expenses. My siblings and I were the reason they were drowning in debt. Hockey was expensive, especially funding three hockey-playing kids on a middle-class income.

  I’d been a bad son, selfish, and focused on myself lately. Maybe it was time to rid my mind of my obsession with my mystery girl. I had other problems to contend with.

  I bore the weight of my entire family on my shoulders, not because they depended on me but because I chose to bear that weight. I’d almost blown it. Almost gotten myself thrown off the team. If I had, I doubted any other team would pick me up. Teams avoided troublemakers, especially ones who’d selfishly endangered their chances in the playoffs.

  My dad worked in a factory. My mom was a hairstylist. They were both tired and getting up there. I wanted to give back to them everything they sacrificed for me when I was growing up. Hockey wasn’t cheap, but they never once complained about the cost of our chosen sport. We lived in one of those areas of Detroit that was slowly being reclaimed. Not the best of neighborhoods, but my parents refused to move. I guess what didn’t kill all of us made us stronger.

  All my sibs played hockey. I was the oldest and just turned twenty-three. My parents married late and had me while in their late thirties. My sister was twenty and played college hockey on a scholarship at the University of Michigan. My younger brother was eighteen and played on a junior team in Canada. My dad played hockey but never made past the AHL.

  A driving force behind taking this hockey thing as far as I could was to make enough money to lessen their load somewhat. I’d begun to do that. I’d bought them new cars to replace their ancient ones. Next year I was paying off their house. They didn’t know that yet, and Dad would refuse out of pride, but I was doing it anyway.

  I wanted them to retire and travel the country in an RV, which they’d always talked about. I had to find a way to get around my dad’s stubborn pride and my mom’s refusal to accept help. They’d actually been upset when I’d bought those cars for them. My father’s face had fallen and his shoulders had slumped. I’d realized then that I’d stripped him of his armor, shown to the world and his friends that his son had to provide for him because he couldn’t take care of his own family.

  Now I knew better. I had to approach things carefully, find a way to make them accept my gifts without feeling like failures. They were not failures. They had three good kids, and until a month ago, not one of u
s had ever spent a night in jail.

  Of course, that one had to be me, the eldest son, and the screwup of the family. I always seemed to find a way to mess up over and over again.

  I kept repeating my mistakes. I’d attached myself to a woman who wasn’t available and almost lost my lifelong dream because of her. I had to give up and look to the future, not keep looking back. Lanie and I had had epic sex, but I didn’t really know her. I was caught up in the mystery surrounding her, my perceived belief our relationship was forbidden in a way I didn’t understand, and my selfish dick that wanted what it wanted.

  Better to walk away now. She didn’t want to be found, or I’d have found her.

  I turned and headed back to the cottage. Steele was still sitting on the deck and watched me approach with his usual unreadable expression.

  “You’ve made a decision,” he noted as I flopped down in the chair next to him and took a swig of my now-warm beer. I made a face at the beer bottle as if it was this object’s fault.

  “How the fuck do you know stuff like that?”

  “I’m an observer. I watch and listen. Don’t talk much. I read body language.”

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “And yeah, go ahead and gloat. You were right. I have come to a decision. I’m done looking for Lanie. It’s over. It was over weeks ago. She’s gone, and I’m moving on.”

  “Good. I’m glad. Does that mean we’re going home?”

  “Not unless you want to.”

  “Nah, I like it here.” Steele almost smiled at me. His smiles were rare, though he did smirk more often. “What’s for dinner?”

  Now he did smile at me, and I laughed. What else was a guy to do?

  Chapter Six

  Let Go

  ~~Delaney~~

  * * *

  A few days after Kaden had shown up at the inn, I was strong in the belief he’d returned to Seattle. I relaxed slightly and resumed my morning jogs.

  I still looked over my shoulder and was hyperaware of my surroundings. I’d be foolish not to do so. Besides, looking over my shoulder had become second nature to me. Kaden might be a threat to my heart, but others were a threat to my life. I wasn’t sure which was worse—the unknown hitman or woman who might be lurking in the shadows or the known danger to my heart and soul.

  Regardless, I felt more at peace on this island than I had in a long time, even before everything fell apart. I was the only child of powerful parents, doted on, spoiled, and overprotected. Nothing in my sheltered, privileged life had prepared me for a life on the run, but I’d been running for almost a year now.

  At times I was so, so tired, so ready to give up and tell the shadows to take me and put me out of my misery, but I was a fighter like my father and a believer in hope like my mother.

  God, I missed them both. I’d resigned myself to never seeing them again. They were certain I was dead—the victim of a random murder and buried in some unknown location. I knew this because of the contact I’d had with Robert, who’d been one of my father’s associates until he, too, disappeared.

  Had the authorities figured it out yet? Had they realized these disappearances weren’t random, that we were all related in some manner? Or did they turn a blind eye because an investigation would reveal truths people in power hid from the light of day?

  I shook my head to clear it. Thinking such thoughts never achieved much other than destroying my good mood. I concentrated instead on the steady beat of my shoes on the packed ground of the waterfront path. My gaze strayed from the path ahead to the bank leading to the water’s edge. Red-trunked madrona trees clung to the bank at precarious angles, defied gravity as they twisted and turned their way in search of sunlight. Beyond the trees, sun reflected off the water of a calm Fiddler’s Cove. We’d had a great few days. According to Mandy, spring weather in the islands was never predictable. It changed on a heartbeat. If I didn’t like the weather right now, I only had to wait an hour, and it’d be different. So far, their advice had been accurate.

  Such a beautiful, tranquil place, a good place to heal and reflect. The perfect place for me, and the perfect place to heal my broken heart.

  I’d fallen in love with Kaden. I knew that now. My heart had survived some big losses and betrayals, but it’d never shattered like it had when I’d left Kaden. When he appeared, those old wounds were torn open, painful and gaping, promising to never fully heal.

  We’d had something special, something I’d never felt before. Despite the heart-wrenching pain, I wouldn’t have traded those months with him for anything. I’m not sure I’d even trade them for my safety. I had cried for all I’d lost, but now was the time to get beyond it, be my father’s daughter, make the best of the hand I’d been dealt.

  Now was the time to say goodbye, once and for all, to my old life, family, and friends, including Kaden. Now was the time to forge something new, different, and do whatever necessary to survive and even, God willing, thrive. My lifelong mission to help those less fortunate didn’t need to end with a life on the run. Every person I touched was an opportunity to bring a little sunshine and hope into their lives.

  I might be an emotional mess, but being on this island calmed me and was healing my soul little by little.

  My gaze was drawn to a seal swimming near the shore. He dived downward, coming up with a fish. I smiled as he toyed with his prize as if bragging to anyone nearby regarding his fishing prowess.

  Slam!

  I collided with something hard in front of me—a solid male chest.

  My fault. I hadn’t been looking were I was going.

  Strong hands encircled my arms to steady me. Anywhere else, I’d have fought for my life, but I’d been lulled into a false belief I was safe here.

  “I’m…so…sorry,” I stammered as I lifted my gaze upward and gasped for breath. The impact had driven the oxygen from my lungs, but what filled my line of vision stopped the beating of my heart. The gift of speech escaped me. I had no words. None. For a moment, I allowed myself to revel in the strong, muscular chest under my cheek, the harsh rise and fall of his rib cage, the heady scent of him.

  I blinked a few times, sucked in air, and fought for my sanity, because this man had surely robbed me of such, and it wasn’t the first time.

  But it had to be the last.

  Kaden Westbrook stared down at me, and I gaped at him, mouth hanging open, sweat dripping down my face. I had to be a sight, and not in a good way. He, on the other hand, was gorgeous despite his soaked T-shirt, unruly hair dampened by sweat, and his scruffy beard. I’d always loved that beard even though I teased him about getting a good trim. He always had this bad-boy thing going on I found hot as hell. He didn’t care how he looked, but he didn’t need to care. He was every woman’s dream in the dark of the night.

  Kaden’s surprise gave way to a kaleidoscope of emotions, ranging from hurt, betrayal, and anger to happiness and confusion. His frown deepened the longer he studied me. I splayed my hands on his chest and stared at him in wonder.

  Every cell in my body said run, while my heart said stay, don’t move.

  I listened to my heart.

  His dark blue eyes softened ever so slightly, and he searched my face as if all the answers to the world were written there. I looked away, afraid I’d be lost in his gaze and unable to do the hard things I knew I had to do.

  “Lanie?” He sounded incredulous.

  I didn’t pull away. I stood my ground, even as I fought the urge to dive into the freezing water of Fiddler’s Cove and sink underneath.

  “Kaden.” My voice shook and fizzled out to barely a whisper. Of their own volition, my fingers grasped handfuls of his shirt.

  “Why?” he said hoarsely, laying bare the stabbing pain I’d inflicted on him. “Why did you run?”

  “I had to.” I loosened my hold on his T-shirt and attempted to push him away, but his grip on my arms tightened, though he did allow me to put a few inches between us.

  His destroyed expression alarmed me. Kaden came
across as a happy, smiling party boy, rarely affected by deep emotions, but I’d been wrong. He wasn’t that person at all. He hurt as much as I did, or did he?

  I couldn’t mean this much to him. I just could not. I’d have to add one more thing to my already overloaded bag of guilt and failure.

  “You knew I was looking for you.” His tone became accusatory, laced with a hint of hurt.

  “I had to go.”

  “Why? I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t need to understand.”

  “I want to understand,” he insisted with the same determination I’d seen from him when he was racing after a hockey puck.

  “Just know it had nothing to do with you. Leaving you behind without even a goodbye was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I’ve done some really hard things.”

  He loosened his grip as if realizing he’d been holding on to me too tightly. “Help me understand.”

  “Don’t ask me to explain. The less you know, the better.” I backed away a few steps, putting space between us so I was able to think more clearly.

  “Is it a jealous spouse? Is he abusive? Because if he is—” His protective instinct reared its honorable head, but I shook off any inclination to bare my soul. He didn’t need the burden. It was mine and mine alone.

  I had to lie to him. That would be the only way he’d leave me alone. “I’m in a situation I can’t walk away from, not permanently. I’m sorry.” I was my father’s daughter. I was able to convincingly tell him a half-truth without showing any signs of deception. When my father did it, I called it politics. When I did it, I labelled it necessary dishonesty.

  “You’re special to me. I can’t let this end, not like this.”

  I didn’t need to hear this from him. His deep-felt words tore me up inside. “Sometimes you can’t have what you want. Neither can I.”

 

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