BENCHED
Minnesota Caribou Series
By
Colleen Charles
Table of Contents
BENCHED
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Epilogue
THE SLOT SNEAK PEEK
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Foreword
Click Here to Subscribe to my Newsletter. Receive email notices about new book releases, sales, and special promotions.
New subscribers receive an EXCLUSIVE FREE NOVEL as a special gift.
Chapter 1
Adam
The ivory and gold antique dresser creaked with every shudder, like it needed a good spray of WD-40. A beveled mirror banged against the wall in perfect rhythm.
Heather clutched the mirror with her tapered fingers as she used it to stabilize her petite frame. The tanned flesh of her back was flush with the cool glass. Her eyes fluttered closed, concealing their unique blue color and her lush lips fell open. But I’d seen the look inside them before she’d shut off her lust from my view. Tiny pants of breath escaped on sighs. Her long, silky blonde hair clung to her flushed face.
She wrapped long, slender legs around his toned abs and back as he spread her legs wide. I fisted my hands at my sides to keep from marching forward and throat punching the bastard. Heather’s skirt bunched up around her waist and the man snaked an arm around her to yank her closer. The other hand freed her breast from the lacy black push-up bra. He kneaded the plump flesh with his fingers, then bent to taste the rosy tip with a flick of his tongue.
I’m going to fucking kill him.
I inhaled a ragged breath as dots of rage floated before my staring eyes. It’s like I knew what was going to happen before I’d ingested the visual proof. Now, the only thing that mattered was the identity of the man with his pants down around his ankles. The one I’m about to beat to a bloody pulp.
And the bitch.
She’d betrayed me. In the damned newly renovated room, in this fucking barn, on my own fucking farm, with its damned cedar ceiling, hand-scraped floors and fucking expensive leather furniture. In that beautiful room was the sight that would be burned on my brain for all eternity.
The sight of my asshole brother fucking my fiancée.
The same girl I’d loved since grade school. The one who loved me just as much. Had loved me. Past tense.
I stood there in the door frame, eyes locked on my brother’s bare ass as his cock pounded in and out of my future wife. Numb. The numbness pervaded, but anger would come later. Right now, I just stared, patiently waiting for them to notice they weren’t alone. Patiently waiting for them to start blabbing at me with a bunch of bullshit excuses that would make my heartbreak even worse.
My only sign of emotion was a slight flush of heat underneath my Michigan State cap indicating that the rage had settled on my face. I clenched my fingers into fists, released and then clenched them again, as my mind focused sharply to another horrid time in my life…
“You have a torn ACL in your right knee. In some cases, athletes recover well and still have a career. You’ll need surgery, Adam. You’ll be sidelined at least a year.”
“Mark, my God. You’re hitting me in exactly the right spot. I’m going to come. Please…”
Hearing Heather’s breathy words jolted me back to the present. With a few long strides across the freshly laid hardwood floor, I hovered just a short arm-length away. As if they weren’t connected to my torso, my arms snaked out and grabbed my brother by his long, brown hair. I threaded my fingers through the mass of thick waves and yanked. Hard. Harder than I’d done back in the third grade when Mark had wrecked my favorite Power Ranger. Not stopping until I heard Mark’s yelp of pain, taking delight in the tortured sound. After the yelp, I finally felt something when I noticed the recognition in Mark’s brown eyes. Quickly replaced by panic.
I welcomed the rage. White hot and all encompassing. And I took advantage of Mark’s bemused state, landing a bone crunching right hook to his pretty face.
“You fucking bastard! You were here for me, huh? Said you’d take care of everything? That include fucking my future wife? Is that the kind of care you were thinking about?” I shrieked, not recognizing my own voice.
Heather leapt from her perch on the dresser, only stopping long enough to pull her skirt back down over her exposed pussy with the fresh Brazilian. Traitorous bitch. She wrapped her arms around my torso and clung to my back like a leech, trying in vain to stop me from kicking Mark’s scrawny ass. That’s when I noticed the three-carat diamond solitaire sparkling up at me from her left hand. She hadn’t even bothered to take off my ring while she fucked my brother.
“Stop!” She screamed, terror coloring her voice. “Adam, you’re killing him!”
“Good. That’s what I’m trying to do.” I stopped hitting only long enough to spit the words in her direction as I hooked my left arm around her waist and tossed her to the side. Heather hit the floor on her ass. Like the trash she was. “Maybe next time he’ll think twice before whipping his dick out to betray his motherfucking flesh and blood!”
Not until Mark lay on the floor of the converted barn like a blood covered lump did I stop and take some breaths. Great heaving breaths that took over my entire body. And soul. I was done. Done with the whore who couldn’t keep her legs shut. Done with my brother.
No.
Not my brother anymore.
Never.
“I’m leaving,” I spat as I spun on my heel and started toward the door. “You’re both dead to me.”
I stomped toward my silver Dodge Ram, leaving the barn door agape. One last reminder of what I’d left inside. What I’d just lost. I climbed in, slammed the door and turned the key hard before yanking the gear shift into reverse and hitting the gas pedal, sending the extended cab in a spin. As I deliberately pumped the brakes, I shifted into drive and left a spray of gravel hurtling toward Heather’s white Mercedes. But the action of marring the perfect paint on the luxury car still left me cold.
Once on the paved road, I punched it, hell bent on reaching the house as fast as I could get there. Something. I needed some kind of comfort. Like Jack Daniels or Johnny Walker.
Or maybe John Deere.
I’d always been able to turn off the demons doing chores in the barn. Something about the smell of the hay and the feel of my muscles rippling underneath my shirt when I engaged in any kind of hard physical labor. Yeah, that was it. I’d take out the tractor or work on some fence repair. Except it was dusk and night would fall before I got back to the farm.
Nausea bubbled up from my gut and cra
wled up the back of my throat when an image of Heather invaded my brain. Heather with her svelte shape, lush lips and long, platinum hair that felt like spun silk in my hands. Heather, holding my hand tightly during the ambulance ride from the arena. Her ocean blue eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tried to be strong at the hospital.
“I love you so much, Adam. No matter what this is, we’ll face it head on. Together.”
The biggest crock of bullshit in the history of the free world.
I’m a complete moron.
I pursed my lips to keep from cursing into the dead of night, and slammed a fist down on the leather steering wheel. Never again would I be taken in by a woman. Gold diggers, whores and dishonest pieces of shit.
A ringing and vibrating in my pocket pulled me back to reality. And torment.
It was her.
Not fucking likely, bitch. Dead to me. Pretty sure I was crystal clear on that front. Now I can add ignorant to your glowing list of attributes.
I stabbed the ignore button and continued on down the highway, turning on the radio so I could blare Jason Aldean at max volume. As I pulled onto the familiar gravel road, memories of my folks danced across my consciousness. Mom standing on the front porch, hands on her ample hips, telling everyone to come on up for fried chicken and cornbread. Dad in the cab of the combine, with thin lips moving as he argued about the price of pork bellies with local talk radio. Now, the house loomed before me. Empty. Laughter, joy, and family had floated away like confetti on a light breeze.
The atmosphere was stagnant. The only sounds permeating the country air were the footfalls of my boots as they hit the rickety stairs. The heavy cedar door creaked when I turned the knob that opened the two-story farmhouse. I stood in the entrance, overwhelmed by memories that attacked from every photo, knick-knack, and antique. Then, I saw it. Heather’s dancing eyes burned through to my soul from our engagement picture taken on the porch swing, hanging in the place of honor above the fireplace. The same place where my family photo had once been.
With a bellow of rage, I ripped it off the wall and gripped it tightly until I could reach the front door again. I opened the door and flung it out onto the front lawn. I’d deal with disposal tomorrow. Right now, I couldn’t stand the sight of her. Couldn’t even stand knowing any image of her was inside this house that had always served as my place of refuge. The attic. I knew there was a lovely photo of my folks from their thirtieth wedding anniversary up there. I’d find it and bring it down tomorrow. She’d be replaced.
First, I’d get drunk until I couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear.
Couldn’t feel.
I turned and rummaged around in the fridge for some beer. No. Not strong enough. This was a whiskey night. Straight whiskey. Burning down the back of my throat, shot after shot.
As I grabbed a glass tumbler from the cabinet and a bottle of Jim Beam, I thought back to the last time I talked to her. It had been hard keeping the surprise a secret. The surprise that I was coming home early just to spend quality time with her.
Surprise!
I scrubbed a hand down my face, attempting to rid myself of the nightmare looping in my head. Splashing some of the dark amber liquor into my glass, I threw it down the back of my throat, welcoming the sting. Soon, I wouldn’t feel anything anymore. It would probably take half the bottle and a few hours, but I’d drink her off my mind just like a bad country song.
I teetered slightly as I clutched the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other. I put my stocking clad foot on the first step leading to the second floor. Her shit. It needed to get the hell out of my house. Now. She’d never see it again. Unless she happened to drive by like the pathetic stalker she was, and see it littering the yard and trees.
It felt good to open the window and allow the kiss of the fresh air to caress my booze fevered skin as I flung everything she’d ever left here out onto the grass. No, it didn’t feel good. It felt fucking phenomenal. I started to drift again when I splashed some whiskey on a pair of her black, lace panties. The same ones I’d pulled down her body with my teeth in an anxious rush to taste her. To possess her.
“Adam, your ACL is healing, but at a much slower rate than what we were hoping for.”
“So, what’s next... more rehab, medical steroids...”
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing more we can do. I can’t clear you to play. I’m afraid this is a career ending injury for you. I’m really sorry, Adam. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but I have to be honest.”
“What are you saying? I’m not understanding?”
I’d stopped listening after I’d heard the word ‘can’t’. No fucking way I wasn’t playing hockey this year. Goddamn it! Come hell or high water. Whatever it took. I’d play again. Hockey was my life. My breath.
My soul.
“Adam, if you were to fall the wrong way or slightly twist your knee during the course of play, the damage would be far too extensive to repair. Adam, this is no longer about hockey. It’s about walking. It’s about being able to have a normal life outside of sports.”
I ripped myself away from the mental torture as I threw a red Michael Kors dress into the towering oak tree with large branches flush with the house. The same one Mark and I had used to escape curfew as high school hooligans.
Hell, I’d been the star of the high school hockey team and Mark had been my adoring younger brother. Dad hadn’t been too hard on us as long as we kept our boyish antics away from the destructive or the criminal. Getting a little drunk and ripping it up with our group of friends.
And Heather.
Tumbling her in the hayloft or the bed of my truck down by the creek as we listened to the soft sounds of the trickling water over the rocks.
I shook my head and poured some more whiskey into the cut crystal. My mom’s favorite glassware. I tipped it toward the sky, remembering the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. A loyal woman. Then, numbness. Blessed, but it was taking too damn long tonight.
What was that annoying tingling in my pants? Yeah, that was it. A couple of douchebags calling. I tore the phone out of my jeans and flung it out the window, too. I’d deal with it tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
That’s when I’d deal with everything.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Blue.
Blue was over at Jeff’s place. Damn. Never was there a time in my life when I needed my yellow lab more than this moment.
Blue, I need you, buddy. Daddy’s coming.
Jeff lived on the neighboring farm and had been my best friend since first grade so it wouldn’t matter if I drove a little tipsy from the mailbox to the driveway. Hell, it was only about fifty yards on the blacktop.
I guided the Dodge onto the county road and hoped Jeff was at home. Otherwise, I’d have to steal my own damn dog. It was so dark outside, I hadn’t been able to see well enough to retrieve the iPhone I’d flung to the lawn in my last snit of rage. Pictures of Mark’s bare ass as he pounded into Heather, her blue eyes alight with passion gripped my brain. Except, now, there were two of her. I rubbed my eyes, thinking I never should have gotten behind the wheel because the four shots of Beam had finally reached my veins to numb my overloaded senses.
A red light pierced through the fog. A semi full of corn was in my lane, heading straight for me. Or was I in his lane? The trucker laid on the horn and hit the brakes so hard it jackknifed his overladen vehicle. Ears of corn exploded into the air, raining down on my windshield.
Blinding me.
What the hell was happening? Sounds of crunching metal and shattering glass filled the air and ripped off the trees. Then, as if someone had turned off the lights, the air stood still and my world faded to black.
Chapter 2
Julia
“I hate you. I want a divorce. You are no longer my best friend, Sue Ann Johnson. I mean, what kind of BFF sets her so called bestie up on a blind date with someone she’s never met!”
I stomped out of the bathroom and yank
ed the hand towel from the hook by the door, swiping the water from my pasty looking skin, wishing I’d had time for some self-tanner. The towel skimmed my thick, black eyelashes, soaking the last remnants of the hot shower I’d just enjoyed. More like relished. The warm water caressing my skin always made me feel better. More in control.
After flopping down on the edge of the pillow top mattress, I scrunched my long, auburn hair with the towel. The puff of my breath filled the air as I flung the phone beside me and hit the button for the speaker.
“That’s why it’s called a blind date, plus you need to get out more and Andrew is a nice guy. Who knows, you just might hit it off,” Sue’s voice echoed through the speakers.
“I don’t even have anything to wear,” I grumbled, looking at my collection of clothes hanging in the closet and finding every last article lacking.
A knock rattled the door almost as if on cue. I stood and grabbed my robe as I walked to the door of the suite. Once again, Sue’s voice came bellowing through the speakers.
“That’s why I had the perfect ensemble delivered to your room.”
I swung the door open to find the bellman holding a white and gold foil box tied with a pale pink silk ribbon. Balancing the boxes on my forearms, I handed him a ten before closing the door with my bare foot. I laid the boxes on the bed and untied the largest one. I’d been enjoying the service of the Hotel Calpurnia while my house got new plumbing installed. It would be done Friday, and I almost hated to leave my luxurious quasi-home.
“Now, you have no more excuses. So get dressed. I love you. Bye.”
Sue hung up before I could open my mouth to protest. Not that I really wanted to. I was bored. I had to face facts, that I’d been overwhelmed and overcome with work for months. Not that I was complaining. I loved my work with a passion. Creative pursuits were my life and always had been. They got the blood pulsing through my veins and hours could go by without eating or even going to the bathroom when I was consumed by a job.
I gasped in pleased surprise and held the sexy top up to my ample chest. It was light blue layers of delicate lace cascading down from the spaghetti straps. A thin, black leather belt cinched in my waist. A pair of silky black pants and strappy blue high-heeled sandals completed the look. Expensive. With a sigh, I wondered how much Sue had forked out to make me look presentable for my date with the elusive Andrew.
Benched Page 1
