Man Down (A Rookie Rebels Novel)

by Kate Meader

“Oh, I can take care of those.” Part of Sadie’s job was stifling dissent in the ranks of her fans and haters. She checked the video and found a comment that had been liked over two hundred times.

  You’re a hack. Stop telling people what to do with their vaginas!

  Pretty tame and not completely inaccurate. “I’ll just delete it.”

  “You can’t do it now! It looks like I’m trying to shut down anyone who disagrees with me.”

  “But you are. That’s what you hire me for.” Oops.

  Sadie could feel the chill from two thousand miles away. “You’re supposed to stay on top of it before it gets out of hand. Remove the negativity before it has a chance to flourish.”

  “Be the Monistat to the yeast infection. Got it. I have a lot going on, Allegra, and I missed this. I apologize.”

  “Right. And how is that going to change, now and when you come back? With a child, Sadie.” Allegra sighed. “I’ve given you a lot of latitude here …”

  “I know, I know.” But I just had my heart broken so could you give me a little more? “I’ll be back in a few days. Everything’s almost wrapped up, I promise. Now let me take care of this comment stuff and get today’s video up. I’ll check in later. Bye!”

  Sometimes it was better to overwhelm Allegra with action. If she really had a problem with Sadie’s approach, she’d call back. Sadie indulged in a spot of comment censorship, finished the video on Kegel balls (yes, this was her life), and scheduled it for publication in a couple of hours.

  When she got back to LA, she was going to look for something else. While a job in hand was better than nothing, she needed to make a change. She had more to offer than this.

  She headed down to the Dead Tree room to see if any packing progress had occurred. Folded-up boxes were perched against the wall where Sadie had left them a week ago. Lauren hadn’t made a dent. “The auction is in three days, so you need to start packing now.”

  Her sister scowled. “And if I don’t?”

  “Then your stuff will be dumped on the street, without boxes, and I won’t be able to put it in storage.”

  Lauren perked up. “You’re putting stuff in storage?”

  Sadie winced at the hope she saw in her sister’s eyes. “I have to for now until I can afford to ship it. Storage for a month is cheaper.”

  Rather than deal with the guilt her sister’s eyes made her feel, she walked to the window. Gunnar’s car was still there, the morning after he’d left. The sun glinted off his Aviators.

  “Knew he was too good for you,” Lauren said, her voice filled with the hurt of the prior months. “Knew it wouldn’t take long for you to drive him away.”

  Out of the mouths of babes.

  When Sadie didn’t say anything—couldn’t say anything—Lauren continued twisting the knife in. “He’s only sticking around because he feels guilty. We’re not in any danger, not really.”

  Sadie knew that. She also knew that Gunnar’s savior complex, the one he’d contracted after he couldn’t save his real family, was chronic and not fussy about the particulars. He saw a pathetic woman who couldn’t look after her sister and he acted.

  “Start packing or I’ll hire somebody to do it for you. Is that what you want? Some stranger going through your things?”

  Lauren’s glare would have cut precious gems. “Better than a stupid cow like you.”

  Sadie had heard worse. It hurt, but no more than the pain she was already enduring.

  “You know something, Lauren. I’ve been trying my best with you but sometimes you are a real pain in the ass.”

  “I know you’re just doing it out of duty. You already left years ago. You never even visited!”

  “Only because your mom made my life a misery and Dad never had my back. So yeah, I’m doing this because no one else will have you!”

  Lauren flinched, and Sadie immediately regretted her words. “Lo, I’m—”

  “Forget it. And you don’t get to call me Lo. Ever. ” Lauren abandoned the sofa and headed upstairs, hopefully to pack. But at what cost?

  Lauren was right about one thing. They weren’t in physical danger. Gunnar’s presence here was only detrimental to her heart.

  She sent him a text. You don’t need to be here.

  Gunnar: It’s a free country.

  Sadie: You can’t do this for twenty four hours. And I’m not feeding you. Or giving you access to a bathroom.

  Gunnar: Doing it crazy astronaut style. Adult diapers for the win.

  She refused to smile even though he wouldn’t see it. A minute ticked by. Two.

  Another text came in. I’m sorry, Sadie. I wish I could be a different person.

  Sadie: Someone once told me to never wish for that.

  Gunnar: Sounds like an idiot.

  Yes, but he was her idiot. She didn’t want a different person. She wanted this one, damaged heart and all.

  Most of her packing was done, but she had some cutting to do for Jenny’s dress. First, she needed a moment to decompress. She went to her father’s study. All that remained was the desk, the chair, and her father’s papers in boxes. She slumped in the chair, stretched out her legs, and closed her eyes. What she wouldn’t give to talk to Gunnar about Lauren. They might not agree on everything, but he had an instinct when it came to Sadie’s sister that Sadie herself couldn’t master.

  Once they were in LA and settled, she would figure it out. Standing quickly, her phone slipped and fell to the floor. When she bent down to retrieve it from under the desk, she saw it.

  A tiny cubby. She placed a finger inside it and felt the hard, metal outline of … a key! Oh, God, it couldn’t be. That locked drawer?

  She tried it, her heart thrilling when it turned easily. What would she find? Hidden illegal proceeds? A ledger of his crimes? Something more unsavory?

  Envelopes. She picked up the first one, recognizing instinctively what it was—and knowing that there were likely eleven more just like it.

  Her birthday cards to Lauren, each one unopened. Each one a handmade piece of Sadie’s art with a fun, quirky animal wishing Lauren a happy birthday. A duck, a meerkat, a piglet. The cuter, the better. Each one a chance to tell her sister how much she loved and missed her. Each one a broken promise.

  Why would her father do this? Had he hated her that much?

  There was another envelope at the bottom of the pile, this one not addressed to Lauren, but to Sadie. Just her name, but not in her father’s handwriting.

  She opened it with trembling hands, her suspicions on high alert. One page in a shaky script, signed by Lauren’s mom, Zoe.

  Hi Sadie,

  I hope you don’t immediately trash this. Maybe you won’t read it today. But in a couple of weeks, maybe even less than that, you’ll get some news and you might want to read this. I hope you do.

  I know we both made mistakes, but mostly me. You were in a lot of pain when I entered your father’s life. I tried to connect with you and you weren’t interested. I know now that I should have tried harder. When your father was tough on you, I should have pushed back on that. But he was older, so assured, and I followed his lead with how to raise you. You and I got off on the wrong foot and by the time Lauren was born, it seemed too late to change all that. The new baby became my focus. I was tired all the time, and I didn’t have the patience to coddle you. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

  Something has changed. I won’t be around and your father is going to need you. My kid, your sister, is going to need you because I’m not sure Jonah is going to do so well without me. Perhaps he’ll find another wife but I haven’t had a chance to pick her, so no guarantees!

  Whether you continue to be pissed at your dad or not, I need you to be in Lauren’s life. She’ll be angry that I’ve left, so it’s important she knows you’re there for her. She loves hockey and art, which means she’s pretty well-adjusted—she’s a creative like you, and even though you haven’t been in her life, I feel as if she’s the best of us, you and me. I’m hopeful she’ll
expend her rage on the ice and get in touch with her feelings with her charcoal. I need for her to be okay.

  I have no right to ask you for a single thing, but I’ll walk over hot coals for my kid.

  I’m sorry I never made it right with you. I hope you can forgive your dad, and even if you can’t, you can be there for our family. Your family. Thank you, Sadie.

  Zoe

  Sadie wiped at her tears. All this time, they could have been friends, and her father prevented that. Was his rule over this household so strong that neither Sadie or Zoe could turn the tide? Or had Sadie been too caught up in bitterness to see this olive branch waiting to be delivered?

  Sometimes people kept doing the same thing, going through the same motions because it was easier than admitting they were wrong. Sadie had always thought that sticking to her principles was important. Adaptability was all well and good, but flip-flopping signaled flightiness. Like her mother. She wanted to be the dependable one—for Allegra, for Lauren, even for Gunnar—but what if she was merely inflexible?

  What if she was more like her father than she had thought?

  Jenny stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, her lips stretching in a smile. She turned to check out her ass.

  “Hey, guys, do I have curves now?”

  “Yeah, ya do. That’s abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous,” Elle said. “Perfect for the wedding of the season.”

  For Jenny’s dress, Sadie had gone with a cornflower blue fabric with a spangled sheen instead of the original Swedish print she’d come across in her attic. While winsome, it wasn’t really suitable for a summer wedding involving a multi-millionaire pro athlete.

  For the last three days, she’d thrown herself into designing, cutting, and sewing. Jenny wasn’t her only client. (And yes, she was calling them clients.) Harper had asked for something “to wear by the pool” and Sadie had gone out to Chase Manor yesterday to do a fitting, dragging a sullen Lauren with her because she couldn’t leave her alone.

  Sadie stood behind Jenny and placed her hands on the woman’s hips. Pride in her work filled her up, evicting some of the ache in her heart. “You have really great shoulders and this strapless style looks so good on you.”

  “Va-va-voom,” Jordan said. “One hot mama.”

  “What color wrap should I wear?” Jenny opened a closet and started rummaging. “This ombré one might work.”

  “Are you excited?” Sadie asked Jordan. Her wedding was just over a week away. Tonight was her bachelorette party and the girls were starting early on Brut Rosé before heading downtown.

  “Yes. Nervous, too.”

  “You’re from DC,” Sadie said, “so how come you’re getting married here?”

  Jordan sipped her wine. “It’s for Levi. He doesn’t have any family left and the team are his people now. Harper offered up Chase Manor. Apparently it’s a tradition that team members can marry there if they want to, like the team’s chapel, I guess. Levi’s sort of superstitious and I don’t mind where we do it.”

  The team’s chapel. Sadie liked that, but then she liked everything she’d heard about the various Rebel couples and the family vibe surrounding them. She had heard the story, how Jordan’s first husband was Levi’s best friend in the Green Berets. After he died in Afghanistan, Levi had stayed away from Jordan for years, though he’d always been in love with her. They reconnected when she was assigned to report on his rookie NHL season at the ancient age of thirty.

  “Hockey players and their superstitions are so weird,” Elle said. “Theo won’t let me out if there’s a full moon.”

  Sadie chuckled. “Should I even ask?”

  “He said it’s bad luck for the baby. Something Aurora told him.” She rolled her eyes. “Sure, he’s worse with his game prep. Between that and the special way he has to wrap his stick—”

  “Nice,” Jordan said and they high-fived.

  “It’s a wonder they get anything done,” Elle finished.

  “Knocked you up, didn’t he?” Sadie said, around the pins in her mouth. “He probably thinks that’s getting it done.”

  “You know it.” Elle shared a shifty glance with the others. “Speaking of hockey players getting it done, what’s going on with Gunnar?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Pretty sure that’s him sitting in that car out on the street,” Jordan said.

  “But he’s not staying with you anymore.” Jenny twisted her mouth in apology. “Lauren told Jason and Sean.”

  Sadie infused la-la casual into her voice. “Oh, I told him his bodyguard services weren’t needed anymore. The house goes up on the block soon, I’ll be moving the personal stuff into storage, and I have our tickets for LA. The flight’s on Sunday.”

  Jordan’s eyes widened. “But you’re coming back for the wedding, aren’t you?”

  “I wasn’t invited.”

  “You are now!”

  Sadie smiled. “That’s sweet of you but I need to work things out with Lauren and get her settled. She’s still mad as hell at me and I can’t leave her alone for a second.”

  “Delay your travel plans and bring her. She’d love to hang with all the Rebels and their spawn.”

  “Ahem,” Jenny said. “I think we’re getting off track. What’s the deal with Gunnar?”

  Elle nodded. “Right. Quit yammering about your nuptials, Cooke. Sadie, I’m seeing a disconnect here. Bond has moved out of the house, but he’s outside in the car. What gives?”

  Sadie bent her head to the bodice of Jenny’s dress. “Just a little tuck here, I think.”

  “Sadie!”

  Startled, she jabbed Jenny with a pin and earned a yelp in return. “Oh, sorry.” She turned back to Elle. “I—I screwed up.”

  “How?” Jenny pushed her down into a sitting position on the bed.

  “Brought out the L word, didn’t I?”

  “Oh.” A chorus of them.

  “During sex.”

  “Ohhh!” Now a symphony.

  “He freaked out and made it clear that’s not what this is about. That’s not what this will ever be about.”

  Elle chewed her lip. “Has he shared stuff with you? Painful stuff?”

  “A little. Not much. He’s still so bound up in his grief for them. He needed a distraction. That’s what I was supposed to be. But—”

  “You hoped it would be more?” Jordan sat beside her and held her hand.

  He had warned her not to get too close. He had told her to keep her expectations at zero. Less than zero. But she fell for him anyway. She’d seen the way he looked at Lauren, with such tenderness, and assumed she was included under his wing. Every look, touch, smile he sent her way was water on her shriveled, arid heart. She hadn’t realized how much she needed that attention. How lonely she felt. She weaved all these moments into a fabric, embroidered them with her hopes and dreams. But the seams weren’t strong enough, the thread was too thin.

  “I got pretty testy with him, saying it was his fault for being so nice to me. How pathetic is that? The guy’s nice to me and I act like a lovesick puppy even when he’s specifically told me not to be a lovesick puppy.”

  “Puppy can’t help it,” Jenny said. “Puppy’s a puppy.”

  “This puppy’s a dummy.”

  “But there has to be more. You guys go way back with the texting and all that.”

  Sadie stared at Elle who had uttered that immortal gem. “The what now?”

  Elle’s color rose. “He might have mentioned you had his wife’s phone number. That he didn’t know it was you when you guys met first at the hockey camp.”

  “When did he say that?”

  “A while back, after he found out who you were. It really threw him and he came over to ours, got drunk, crashed on our sofa. I could tell he needed permission to go for it with you. That’s what was holding him back.”

  Jordan waved in front of them. “Could someone explain what’s going on here? His wife’s phone number?”

  After Sadie had told
the story, they sat in silence for a moment.

  She tried to explain his actions. “He’s angry with me for interrupting the conversation with his wife. He’s not stupid. He knows it’s not healthy, but it’s what he wants. He’d prefer to stay in that bubble with them. The thought of relying on someone for comfort is impossible for him. He doesn’t want to make room for anyone else.”

  She knew this much: you can’t force someone to love you. She’d tried it with her father. Was trying it with Lauren. Nothing real and lasting could exist on a bedrock of indifference.

  Elle shook her head. “That’s not what he wants. It’s what he thinks he wants.”

  Which, as far as intention went, amounted to the same thing. Sadie could be persuasive but she didn’t have the skillset to convince a man to love her. For now, she’d invest all the love she had to give in Lauren.

  Jenny looked out the window. “So why is he out there? Does he really believe you’re still being threatened because of your father?”

  “Because he can’t stay away,” Elle said, “but he’d rather pretend it’s because of some misplaced sense of duty.”

  “That’s not it,” Sadie murmured, though hope took seed in her heart because she was a sap.

  “Let’s find out.” Jordan put her wine glass down and took a step toward the door.

  Sadie sputtered. “What? You’re going to ask him?”

  “Yep. I’m a reporter. I ask things.”

  They watched her exit, then turned to each other.

  Jenny made the first move. “Well, I’m not missing this.”

  Jordan Cooke was marching toward Gunnar’s car, closely followed by Jenny and a slower-moving Elle. No sign of Sadie, which he didn’t like one bit.

  He lowered the window.

  “Jordan. Jenny. Elle.”

  “Afternoon, Gunnar,” Jordan said. “Want to tell us what’s going on here?”

  “Just keeping an eye on Sadie and Lauren. Like I said I would.”

  So it sounded ridiculous, and the way Jordan’s eyes softened told him she agreed.

  He asked, “Where’s Sadie?”

  “In the house. Perfectly safe,” Jordan said. “Surely you have better things to be doing.”