I couldn’t let Heather’s plots control her. Or at least, I shouldn’t have.
But I did. I allowed Heather to swoop in and ruin everything. She got exactly what she wanted just like she always does.
I turned the corner, heading in the direction of Sue Ann’s boutique. My bestie would know what to say and do. She’d calm everything down like a human Xanax and together we’d find a solution.
Sue Ann was the stronger one, accustomed to dealing with shit like this.
Raised voices caught my attention and I stopped, short of the mouth of an alley.
Who is that? The voice is so damn familiar.
“You stay the fuck away from her,” a man said, gruff with rage.
Mark Spencer. Adam’s brother.
I crept forward, leaning casually against the brick of the building opposite Sue Ann’s. I peered around the corner, then snapped my head back. Yeah, that was Mark all right, and Carter Jenkins stood right beside him. At the sight of that pig, my heart pounded in my chest. The visual of Carter alone was enough to scare the shit out of me. A predator. And a first-class asshole.
Carter had his back pressed against the wall and Mark fisted a handful of his designer shirt as he shook him. Both men’s faces were flushed crimson with rage and exertion.
I wasn’t much for eavesdropping; I made to move away, but then stopped. This had to be about the doping scandal. I’d still help Adam if I could, even if our romantic relationship was over, so I’d hang around to get the Intel. If Carter saw me now, God only knew what he’d do. But, I had to risk it. Adam’s career hung in the balance. What was the worst that could happen? Oh yeah, Carter would push me up against the bricks, rip my pants down and assault me. And Mark? He would … taunt me? Hate me as he egged Carter on? Carter was definitely the worst of the two evils. I palmed my cell phone in my pocket, just in case.
Shame flickered again, rearing its ugly little head, causing me to doubt myself. I’d known that Mark was into Heather from the start and I’d still accused Adam of doing steroids and breaking up with Heather over it. What the hell had I been thinking? But that was just it. I’d been so overwrought with emotion and the possibility of losing my business and my home, my very life, I hadn’t been thinking at all.
I dug my fingertips into the grey mortar between the bricks, mentally berating myself. I’d kept control for so long that finally losing it had made me lash out at Adam. The man I loved.
The men in the alley kicked and scuffled, yet no punches were thrown. Two cowards facing off in a battle of wills.
“You should tell me to stay away from her,” Carter grunted, then chuckled. “Get real, Spencer, you’re not going to hit me. You know she’d be pissed if you did.”
They’re talking about Heather. Why would they choose Sue Ann’s to have their Mexican stand-off? Almost like its being staged. But how could they possibly know I’d come here? Because Sue Ann’s is where you always end up, stupid.
“She loves me. Get that into your thick fucking skull, you moron,” Mark grunted. “You’re just a tool to her. Just a fucking tool.” Mark rammed Carter against the wall, and his skull bounced against it.
“She doesn’t love you. She’s using you. Just be happy she’s fucking you, pretty boy.” Carter reached up and patted Mark’s cheek like he would a dog that had just learned how to roll over. “You’re just a cheap imitation of the hot, successful Spencer brother.”
Mark pulled his fist back and held it there, trembling. He didn’t bring it forward to crack Carter in the jaw and the attempted date rapist simply smiled.
“You know I’m right. Heather would lose her shit if you beat on me. You think we’re so different, but we’re the same,” Carter said, reaching up and ripping down Mark’s arm.
Mark let go and backed off, rubbing his fist. “I’m nothing like you.”
“Good one, dipshit. You betrayed your own brother for pussy, bro. You’re worse than me. Heather trusts me more than she trusts you.” Carter laughed, an ugly wet chuckle that gurgled in his throat. “You’ll see. You’re gonna lose it all before this is done. I’ll make sure of that. You’ll regret ever laying hands on me. You, your brother and that sweet slut he’s been boning.”
I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my anger at bay. Carter was such a scumbag. The night he’d hit on me had been the start of all this god damn trouble. That and the billboard.
At least that had finally come down, after a few days of sitting out there with everyone’s eyes on it. The case had built against me slowly and today it’d finally erupted in my face, spewing venom, and I’d been powerless to stem the tide.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark said after a minute. “Heather loves me. She loves me.” Who in the hell was he trying to convince, Carter or himself?
“Yeah, uh, and the Pope is an atheist. Fuck it, how stupid are you? She doesn’t love you. She probably didn’t even love your superstar brother. The only person Heather McNeal loves is herself. She’s only interested in what she can get from a man and once she’s done using him, she’ll toss him aside like the piece of shit he is.”
“I’ll fucking –” Mark stepped forward, raising his fist again.
“What? You’re gonna do what?” Carter barked a laugh. “Weak tit. Have you been working out by the way?”
“Fuck you,” Mark spat.
Carter laughed and strolled toward the mouth of the alley. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got places to be, bitches to fuck. You know how it is. Or maybe you don’t.” Another raw laugh.
That was my cue. I turned, ignoring the repulsed stares of a passing woman and her teenage son, who wore a Caribou jersey with “Spencer” emblazoned across the back, and dashed across the road to Sue Ann’s boutique, my mind spinning with possibilities.
Heather had both those men wrapped around my little finger. Did that mean she was… sleeping with them both? Could that even be possible?
No, that was low even for her.
I hurried into Sue Ann’s store, the bell tinkling to announce my entrance.
My best friend popped up from behind the cash register, eyes wide and phone pressed to her ear. At the sight of me, she let out a hefty sigh of relief. “Oh thank the Lord, I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours! Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you.”
I took one step, two, then burst into tears, flinging myself into Sue’s open arms.
Sue Ann stroked my hair for a minute and then rushed around the counter and to the door, flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED, then locked up. She walked back toward me, took my hand and led me into the back of the boutique, to her private office.
“Sit down and relax,” Sue Ann directed, and I gladly followed her orders. Sue Ann represented comfort and sanity in a world gone stark-raving mad. “Do you need a drink? Water, tea… vodka?”
I settled into the cushy armchair with its velvet trappings and stared at the potted plant in the corner. “I can’t believe this is happening. Everything’s gone to shit.”
“I can’t believe it either. I’ve had reporters from KSRJ in here earlier, asking questions about you and Adam. About drugs for god’s sake. Imagine you linked with drugs when you’ve never even taken a hit off the bong? It’s ridiculous.” Sue Ann flopped her arms and began rustling up a couple of mugs of coffee. “Absolutely insane.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I whispered, afraid I’d go into the ugly cry again. “I’m so sorry they dragged you into this sordid mess too.”
“All I care about is you, Julia. I can hold my own with any vultures that start circling. I chased those assholes out before the first question dropped from their lips. I mean, really,” Sue Ann said and popped a hip. She turned and brought me a cup, then leaned against the edge of her desk and took a long sip out of her own. “Honey, you can’t let this ruin you. Heather and her cronies are behind it all, mark my words.”
“It would appear that way,” I admitted.
Sue Ann pursed her
lips, delivering the bestie wisdom in a somber tone. “Don’t you let that bitch win this fight.”
I looked up at my best friend, my rock for years, when times got tough and when they were all sunshine and roses. She was the fun one, but somehow she’d managed to transform into my very own wisdom guru on command.
“Thanks, Sue, but I’ve got to do what’s right. What’s best.”
“And I guarantee you that leaving Duluth isn’t right.” It was as if Sue Ann could read my mind. “The only person that’s best for is Heather McNeal. It will tear Adam apart if you leave. Besides, I highly doubt these accusations about the steroids are true. I mean, Spencer just wouldn’t do that. He’s not that kind of guy. Never has been.”
I hung my head, considering the options. “You’re right. I know.”
And I did know. Adam wouldn’t have risked his career after fighting so hard to get back to it.
“So, what are you going to do?” Sue asked. “I’m all for a bitch slap.”
“I have no idea, Sue, I don’t know where to go from here.” I shook my head, grasping my palms together and twining my fingers. “It seems pretty hopeless.”
“You need proof that Adam isn’t what they say he is. If you have that, all the other accusations will fall away. Hell, they’re probably going to do another test, just to be sure. He’ll pass because he hasn’t been doping. If I were him, I’d demand to have my lawyer present and accompany the damn test all the way to the lab.” Sue Ann pushed off the desk, pacing back and forth, her designer heels clicking on the wooden boards. “I’ll call Jeff, ask him –”
I blocked out my friend’s chattering to focus on what’d happened. Sue Ann was right. I should’ve stayed with Adam, shown him that I was by his side, with him rather than against him. Like Heather so obviously was.
I pushed the chair back, sloshing coffee onto the boards in front of her.
“Hey,” Sue Ann yelped in protest, then hustled over to the cupboard in search of paper towels.
“I have to go, Sue. I’ll be back later.”
“What? Wait a second. Where are you going? Julia? Do I need to be worried?”
But I was already out of the front door, the bell tinkling in my wake.
Chapter 24
Adam
I walked up the empty path to my front door, my heart lost in the heel of my left shoe. I’d chased Julia off to save her from the press, but really it was to hide my own shame. I’d truly let her down and now I didn’t know if we could make it back. I’d breached trust and that was unforgivable. More than that, I was a fuck up and apparently fucked up everyone in my path.
Just when I’d thought things were finally on track, that I’d be back on the ice with Julia at my side, it happened. The real world crashed back into place. Truth was, it didn’t matter if the second test came back clean, because the fake one had already ruined everything.
Would Julia ever trust me again? Would her business be okay?
I’d brought her into my home and my heart, and she’d done the same for me, except I’d ruined her with my affection. These malicious ghosts from the past belonged to my haunted house and no one else’s.
“Fuck,” I swore under my breath, brought out my keys then unlocked my front door. “Fuck.”
I strode in and slammed it shut with my heel, then frowned. “What the –?”
The aroma of Chai Lattes drifted down the hall. No Pumpkin Chai Lattes. Heather’s favorite. If that fucking crazy bitch had broken into my house, I’d –
Rage tore at the old wound as surely as if I’d ripped off the Band-Aid and the scab. I stormed through the house and into the kitchen, grasping one wrist in my hand, holding it behind my back. There she was, standing beside the kitchen island, dressed in a tight white dress and matching heels, sipping out of a paper to go cup.
This could’ve been a sight from any of the days we’d been engaged. She’d loved those fucking lattes, always brought me one. And I’d forced the disgusting creation down for her sake. Because I’d wanted to please her. No more. Not one fucking second longer.
“There you go, honey,” Heather said, sliding the cup along the surface of the table with a smile. “I bought it just for you. I’m glad you’re finally home.”
“Did I step through a doorway to the past? An alternate universe? Or into a fucking nightmare?” I said, snatching up the Styrofoam cup and tossing it in the direction of the sink. It splattered against the tile backsplash, sending fingers of foam up the walls, flecks of spiced latte onto the pristine silver fridge.
“Temper,” Heather said, shaking her head. “Don’t waste good tea. I know you’ve had a rough day, but there’s no need to waste an expensive beverage.” She took another slurping sip of her disgusting drink, then placed it on the counter with a flourish.
“Get out of my house. Now.” Only because she was a woman kept me from wringing her swan-like neck.
“This is our house,” Heather said, raising that fine chin, the blonde hair I’d once loved touching spilling down her back. “I’ll forgive you for bringing that slut in here, but don’t you dare call her anything else from now on. All right?”
“What are you talking about? Have you lost your damn mind?” I couldn’t comprehend what had gotten into her. Heather had always been manipulative, though I’d been so late to that party I’d even missed dessert, but she wasn’t bat-shit crazy. She had to know I wouldn’t want her here.
“I’m willing to forgive your, uh, transgressions. We can put that in the past. After you get an STD test, of course. We can put this little mistake behind us and move on.” Heather smiled sweetly and pressed her chest out, trying to entice me with her fake tits that were not even close to as gorgeous and lush as Julia’s. They made my skin crawl, just like the woman attached to them.
“The only mistake in ‘our’ history is you fucking my brother,” I said, jabbing my finger in her direction, “and I’ve already moved on from that. Without you. Now get the fuck out of my house.”
“Oh sweetie, don’t be silly,” Heather said, still in that simpering, ‘how can you possibly resist me’ tone. “Don’t you see? You can’t do any of this without me. The doping scandal, the association with a whore who’s dragged your name through the mud. All of that happened because of our break up. The only thing left to do to fix it all is to get back together. It’s what the public wants.”
What about what I want? Yeah, that’s right. You’ve never even considered it.
I worked my jaw, reminding myself again that Heather was a woman and that I didn’t hit women. Even though my knuckles twitched and ached, I wasn’t a brute. She was good at pushing me. God, was she good at pushing and pushing all my buttons until I stood on the verge of snapping. Heather had her finger on every damn button I had.
“I’m not going to ask you again,” I began. Prior to today, a small part of me had started to feel sorry for her over her desperate actions. She must have really loved me, or thought she did. Now, I wondered if Heather even understood love in its purest form.
Heather circled the island and sauntered up to me, swaying her hips, her blue eyes filled with emotion as fake as the tears I’d seen in her news interview. “I’ve missed you so much.” She pressed her tits against my chest and I recoiled.
Revulsion shuddered through me, almost causing me to dry heave. I tamped down the feeling, and then stepped out of her reach. “Heather, I’m going to call the cops if you don’t leave.”
She was relentless, hurrying forward again, raising her hand to caress my jaw.
I moved further back and slammed into the doorjamb. “Shit!”
“Now you’ve gone and hurt yourself, honey. That’s no good. We need you in peak physical condition for the season. The Caribou and all of Duluth are counting on you.” Heather rammed herself against me and writhed. She actually fucking writhed, worming against me, pressing her crotch against my flaccid dick to try and get me aroused.
“Get off me,” I spat, then took her by the arms a
nd lifted her effortlessly. I placed her to one side, out of my path, then strode from the kitchen and up to my bedroom. I ripped open my dresser and brought out the small velvet box, then charged back down the stairs, gripping it in my fist.
Breathing through my nostrils, I forced myself to remain calm through sheer will alone. Because I let this crazy bitch get a hold of me, I’d lose my fucking mind. I couldn’t afford a screaming match now.
Not with Heather. That would play right into whatever sick master plan she had going.
I hit the entrance hall and stopped in my tracks.
She stood there, holding her Chai Latte, her purse slung over one shoulder. “Where are we going?” Heather asked around a mouthful of fluid. She sucked it down and gave a sigh of enjoyment. “I can’t let you go out when you’re angry. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, honey.”
“Get out of my way, Heather, or you’ll regret what comes next.” I lifted my fist, the one holding the box.
But Heather wasn’t afraid, she stood still. Proud. Erect. Like she knew that whatever the threat pertained to, it wasn’t violence. She’d been with me for years. After all, she’d forced my hand many times, slapped me, scratched me during a fight back when we’d started dating.
Only when I’d started making good money had the fights stopped.
I can’t believe I ever fell for this phony whore. I’m such an asshole. Funny how maturity brings a whole new perspective.
“Baby, don’t be ridiculous, I know you’d never do anything to hurt me or us.”
“You’re wrong, I’d never to anything to hurt Julia,” I said, wanting her to realize it was over. It was beyond over.
“Julia,” Heather said and her smile disappeared. “That bitch has gone too far. I should’ve known she’d do this. She was a slut back in high school and she’s an even bigger one now –”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I commanded, lowering my fist. I opened it slowly and presented the black velvet box.
Benched Page 15
