Hammered

by Cathryn Fox

  “Tell me you’re not going to make me watch that.”

  “Maybe,” she says with a grin. “Wait, what are these ones?”

  She pulls a black case free and opens it. Inside there are a bunch of DVDs. “No clue.” I step closer. “Not labeled?”

  “Yeah, it says…Tyler, and numbers next to it.” Her eyes are narrowed when they meet mine. “Do you know what this is?”

  “That’s my father’s handwriting. Maybe it’s something he recorded, although I don’t really remember Gram or Dad having a video recorder when we were kids. Some of our friends’ parents did though, for birthday parties and things like that. Maybe that’s what it is.”

  “Should we put one in and see?”

  “Sure.”

  She pries one DVD from the case and I make my way back to the kitchen, pulling our food from the microwave. I’m not sure why, but as I divide the pasta and carry our plates to the sofa, an uneasy knot twists my stomach. Haven reaches for the remote and flicks the DVD on and settles herself against me on the sofa. I shift closer and put my feet on the coffee table as I stab a piece of pasta and slide it into my mouth.

  “Mmm, good,” Haven says as she bites into the creamy penne I made a couple nights ago. She helped with the preparations of course, and I love how she loves learning new things, never afraid of backing down from a challenge.

  I wait for something to flash on the screen as I stare at it. “I hope it’s not anything embarrassing.”

  “I hope it’s from when you were little. I bet you were a cute kid.”

  “Modesty prevents me from correcting you.”

  She laughs and whacks me. “My God, you guys must have been a handful.” She rolls her eyes. “Wait, what am I saying. You all still are. Gram probably went gray well before her time.”

  Just then the DVD starts playing, and the pasta I’d just swallowed, rises in my throat. “What the fuck?” I croak out, and I and tug my feet from the coffee table and plant them hard on the floor. I sit up a bit straighter, my heart somewhere in the vicinity of my throat.

  “Tyler,” Haven says, her voice a bit shaky. Clearly, she’s as confused and surprised as I am. “Is that…” She leans closer to the TV, and I look at the image through her eyes. I was leaner then, tougher, my face harder, with more angles, but make no mistake about it, that’s me on the screen, entering the cage for my very first fight.

  I set my plate onto the coffee table and brace my elbows on my knees. “Yeah, that’s me.” My insides twist and my throat squeezes so tight, breathing becomes near impossible.

  “Ty,” Haven says and puts her hand on my arm, clearly picking up on my confusion as I try to catch a breath to refill my lungs. Restless, and antsy, I stand on shaky legs and rake my hand through my hair, tugging hard enough to cause pain—an effort to distract myself and keep the tears at bay.

  “What the fuck am I looking at?” I say, even though I already know, and pick up the case with the rest of the DVDs inside. I tug them out, and flip through them. They all have my name and dates. Lungs seized, I drop back down beside Haven, put my elbows on my knees, and cover my face with my hand.

  “Holy fuck,” I say my words mumbled behind my palms. Haven goes perfectly still. I’m not even sure if she’s breathing. Fuck, I’m not sure I am either. My stomach clenches, like I’d just been sucker punched. I guess in a way I have been. Standing back up, I grab another DVD, and shove it into the machine. I stand there, and when my face fills the screen, as I prepare for another fight, every muscle in my body tenses, each cord so taut, I’m sure something is going to snap. I toss in a third DVD, a fourth and a fifth, and every single one has my father’s writing on it.

  “He…recorded…” I choke on my words, try to get them out, but they’re stuck deep in my throat. I grab a fistful of hair and tug again as I try to wrap my brain around this.

  My father recorded my fights?

  A deep tortured sound I have no control over crawls out of my throat, and Haven is right there, her arms around me, holding me tight as I sort through this unexpected discovery. I just stand there, wrapped in her arms, adrenaline flooding my body like I’m going into fight or flight mode. I swallow, a little less unstable on my feet. Grief and shock work their way through my body, and suddenly I’m exhausted. Too exhausted to stand—to think with any sort of clarity. As my brain and body shut down, it leaves room for a barrage of emotions to tear through me.

  I back up, and Haven comes with me. Unceremoniously, I plunk back down on the sofa and she reaches for the remote to lower the volume. Acid burns up my esophagus, my insides raked raw as my world tilts on its axis.

  “Haven,” I say, my voice rough, like someone took a cheese grater to my throat.

  “I’m here.” I tug her to me, cradle her head in my arms.

  “I never knew,” I say, my voice low and hollow.

  She shifts and puts her arms around me. “He was proud of you, Ty.”

  As soon as those words leave her mouth, my chest squeezes tight and tears pound behind my eyes. I pinch the bridge of my nose. Real men don’t cry, right? That’s what dear old Dad always told us. Despite it all, I am who I am because of him, and to be honest, I like who I am. I especially like who I am with Haven.

  “It’s okay to cry, Ty.”

  I swallow hard and take a sobbing breath as the overflow of tears falls down my cheeks. I swipe at them, and take a deep, hard breath. Dad wouldn’t want to see me cry. But he’s not here to see me, just like he wasn’t at any of my fights. That doesn’t mean he hadn’t seen them, though.

  “Un-fucking-believable.” Never, ever in my life did I expect to find DVDs with my fights, and judging by how many there are, he recorded every single one. I snort and shake my head.

  Haven cups my face, her touch like a healing balm to the open wounds I never thought would heal. She gives me a soft smile. “He was proud of you,” she says again, and that’s when I understand the depths of pain I’d been carrying around with me. My father died alone, none of us boys there to help him. He was clearly a man who had no idea how to give love, how to show it to his boys. But this…this here, these DVDs, say so much. They say everything.

  “I wish I’d known.” I glance at Haven. “If I’d known, maybe I wouldn’t have stayed away so long. Maybe he wouldn’t have died alone and sad.” I press my palms to my eyes. “We all fucking abandoned him.”

  “From everything you’d told me about your father, I don’t think he ever would have told you anyway, Ty.”

  “You’re right, he wouldn’t have, but Haven, my God, when I have kids, they’re going to know their old man is proud of them. I’ll tell them every goddamn day.”

  She pulls my hands from my face, and offers me a soft smile. “Yeah, you will. You’ll be a great dad,” she says, and my heart fills with everything I feel for her. I need to tell her. I need to tell her I went ahead and fell for her despite the rules we put into place. How could I not? She’s everything, and while neither of us are perfect, we’re definitely perfect for each other. Knowing my Dad did this, and that I wasn’t here for him, makes me want to speak up, take chances—never miss an opportunity to tell someone how much they mean to you. Fuck, I don’t want to lose anyone else I love.

  “Haven,” I say. I take in her tired eyes as she watches me carefully.

  “Yeah?”

  I open my mouth, about to lay my heart on the line, when a crashing sound from outside cuts me off. Haven stiffens, and I put my hands on her shoulders. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably a racoon.”

  “Damn racoons,” she says, her lids blinking rapidly. The noise obviously frightened her.

  “You stay here. I’ll go check.”

  I make a move to stand and she stops me. “Ty.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay?”

  I exhale, and nod. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this okay.” I let my gaze fall to the stack of DVDs. “He was a lot of things, but he loved us. I know that now.”

&nb
sp; “Yes, he did. He was proud of you all. His generation, they didn’t always know how to say the words, you know.”

  “I know.”

  She stifles a yawn, and I reach for her hand and pull her up. “Why don’t you go crawl into bed? You’re exhausted. I’ll be up in a few minutes. I just want to check on the boat, and do a perimeter check and find out what that noise was. I’ll lock the door, so don’t open it for any reason.”

  “I won’t.”

  I eye her. “Do you feel safe?”

  She leans into me, her breath warm on my skin. “I always feel safe when I’m with you, Ty.”

  Her words wrap around my heart and give a gentle squeeze. “Okay,” I say and drop a kiss onto her forehead. “Head on up and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I give her ass a light smack and she yelps and heads up to the loft. Once she’s secure, I go outside, lock the door behind me, and spend the next fifteen minutes walking the property and checking on the shed and boat. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, other than a trash can tipped over. I have a new lightness about me, and I know Haven and I need to talk. I need to tell her how I feel before it’s too late, and she goes back to L.A. I’m not sure what will come of it, but it’s a chance I have to take. I’ve lost so much time with my father, years of being away and being resentful. I am not going to lose those years with Haven.

  I unlock the door, and the place is quiet when I step inside. I head to the loft, my heart beating double time. I spot her beneath the covers. I’m about to call out to her, but stop when I hear her soft breathing noises. While I need to talk to her, I’m glad she’s asleep. She’s been exhausted. Deciding to wait until tomorrow, I undress and crawl in beside her. With a stupid smile on my face, I spoon her. As though needing my comfort and touch, even in sleep, she snuggles against me. I’ve been inside this woman numerous times, yet holding her like this, accepting my feelings for her, and all I want is something far more intimate.

  I just pray to God she wants the same things.

  21

  Haven

  “Oh my God,” I say and jackknife up in bed.

  “What’s going on?” Tyler asks from beside me.

  “We slept in. I was so tired last night I forgot to set the alarm.” I toss the covers off and stand.

  “Okay, you go shower, and I’ll get your breakfast ready.”

  “I don’t have time for breakfast.”

  “You can eat it in the truck,” he says. “You need food in your stomach, Haven.”

  I shake my head, but love the way he cares about me like that. “Okay, thanks. I’ll grab a fast shower.” I hurry to the bathroom, and take the world’s fastest shower. I don’t bother with my hair, or makeup, that will be done on set, so I climb into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Filming has been going great the last few days, and we’ll be wrapping up sooner than I ever thought we would be. My stomach sinks. While I’m glad everything is going well, and I’m proving to be the drama-free professional that I am, I wish things were going to drag on a little longer. I’m not quite ready to leave Tyler.

  In the kitchen, I find Tyler putting my food in a plastic container, and filling a Thermos mug with coffee.

  “You are my knight in shining armor,” I tell him.

  He grins. “I didn’t think you believed in fairy tales, Haven.”

  I shrug. “I shouldn’t, but there is a part of me that’s a hopeless romantic, living in that Norman Rockwell calendar.”

  He chuckles and gives my ass a light slap. “Let’s move it.”

  We hurry to his car, and I casts him a quick glance. “Sorry for falling asleep last night.”

  “While I wanted to ravish you, I like that you felt safe enough to fall asleep, and just so you know, it was likely a racoon we heard. The garbage can was tipped over.”

  I nod and take a sip of my hot coffee, needing the caffeine fix. “I was so tired.”

  He puts his hand on my lap, something I’ve grown accustomed to, and love, and he gives it a squeeze. “You needed the sleep.”

  “Tonight we’ll talk about that ravishing part.”

  His face drops, goes serious, and he looks ahead. “Was it something I said?”

  “Yeah. Tonight, we do need to talk.”

  My entire body stiffens at the seriousness in his voice. “We can talk now,” I say, worry gripping my stomach. I know we’re pretending, playing house, and we set rules. He’s pretty good at reading me, which means he could very well tell that I’m getting in deeper than I should.

  He casts me a fast glance and the green in his eyes is darker. He hesitates, and my heart misses a beat. Whatever he has to say to me, isn’t coming easy to him, which leads me to believe I’m not going to like what I hear. “No, you need to concentrate on work, and your lines.”

  “Okay,” I say for lack of anything else. Is he ending this thing between us? I get men wanting something from me and discarding me after they’ve gotten it, but Tyler isn’t like any of those other men. Maybe I’m reading this all wrong. Maybe he’s not ending it at all. Maybe he wants more from me, the same way I want more from him.

  Do I dare hope?

  We both go silent, lost in thought, and I dig into the toast and scrambled eggs. “Did you eat?” I ask.

  “I’ll grab something later.”

  My heart warms, loving the way he puts me first and worries about the little things, like eating. “I appreciate this,” I tell him.

  He simply smiles and the next thing I know, we’re at the set. He seems a bit different this morning, distracted maybe, like he has something weighing him down. He catches Carter’s eye as I make my way to outfitting and make up. Normally he gives me a kiss before he leaves, but this time he’s walking away like a man on a mission. What is going on with him? Something is clearly bothering him.

  I try to put that out of my mind as I prepare for my next scene, and after makeup and outfitting, I spend the morning and the better part of the afternoon working. By the time I see Tyler again, he has a very strange, very worried look on his face as he and Carter stand near his truck and chat.

  Since I’m on a thirty-minute break, I begin to head toward them, but my phone rings. The special chime informs me it’s Rock calling, but I’m not really in the mood to talk to him. I glance around the set, and notice everyone on their phones. Whatever they’re looking at must be shocking, judging by the looks on their faces.

  My phone continues to ring. Rock is clearly on a mission. My throat tightens. Maybe I better answer. Perhaps he’s in some kind of trouble.

  I pull my phone from my back pocket, and as I slide my finger across the screen, I note the way Tyler’s watching me, his heavy-lidded eyes locked on mine, worry all over his face.

  “Hey Rock, what’s up.”

  “Are you kidding me?” he fires back. “You don’t know?”

  Okay, I’m not sure what’s going on, but Rock had a deep voice. Never in my life have I heard this kind of high-pitched hysteria coming from him. I sink down onto the closest bench, and that’s when I spot Jonah coming my way, his steps fast, purposeful. I have no idea what is going on. I only know it has something to do with me and it’s really, really bad.

  “I’ve been working all day. I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I’ll send you a link. You need to check it out, but make sure you’re sitting down first.”

  My heart jumps into my throat and air is almost impossible to get as I click on the link and pictures of Tyler and me, in a very compromising position on the dock, come into view.

  “Oh, God, no,” I say and bend forward, as my stomach twists and turns. That night after our swim, I heard noises. Tyler reassured me everything was fine, but nothing was fine. Some reporter must have been in the woods, taking pictures of us. As the world fades to black around me, Jonah drops down onto the bench next to me. His worried eyes are narrowed, agitated. No doubt he’s worried I’ve fucked up this shoot.

  He shakes his head at me. “Jesus Christ, Haven. What have you done? A
fter everything, I thought you’d be more careful not to bring trouble to the set. Now this. I warned you.”

  I put the phone back to my ear and hear my brother say, “Wait, is that…Tyler Owens you’re with. Jesus, Haven, you’re with Tyler.”

  “Rock, I’ll call you back.” I end the call before he can say anything, and take a couple fast breaths.

  “We were careful. No one should have known how to get to that place. Not without directions.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean it’s in the middle of the woods, down a road that doesn’t even look like a road. Tyler assured me we could never be followed and how no one could find the place without a map, especially if they didn’t live around here.”

  “You know what that means, then?”

  My head jerks his way and I wrap my hands around my stomach. From the corner of my eye I catch Tyler and Carter talking to the director. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s obviously a very serious conversation about me, judging by the way their glances keep landing on Jonah and me.

  “No, I don’t,” I say, my thoughts coming in fragmented bursts as tears threaten. My God, is this going to ruin my career, this movie. How the hell did this happen?

  “Tyler is obviously the one behind it,” he says.

  “He would never do that,” I blurt out, instantly defending the man I love.

  “Really now. Come on, use your brain, Haven. Your brother stole his title. They’re mortal enemies. What better way to get back at Rock than to ruin his sister? Plus, it probably put a big chunk of change in his pocket.”

  Air evacuates my lungs in a fast whoosh as his words ping around my brain. “He wouldn’t do that,” I say. “He wouldn’t.”

  “Did he need money for something?”

  “Yeah, but…” I begin, my words falling off as I think about the gym he wants to build and the hefty price of the equipment.

  “No buts, he obviously did this. Two birds, one stone. Or should I say one Rock.”