Ramping Up

by Zoe Dawson

“We’ll do that, and we’ll see you next week.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  Things were going so well. Gunner was skating every day, and he looked rested and energetic. We had passed an invisible line, one that had some weight to it. I was not ignorant of what happened at the Wick. That…incident for a lack of a better word was imprinted on my heart, and I was finding it hard to keep my mind on my work and off him.

  My feelings for him were deep and intense.

  I was well aware of how deep and intense, but chose not to think about it too hard. He hadn’t asked to resolve the situation with me being his agent and his girlfriend, but I was getting the vibe from him that he would. He didn’t want this PR nightmare hanging over our heads. I agreed with him, but I thought we had better not poke that bear until after the LSJ final competition. And now that Nitor was involved, we should wait until that deal was signed. Then I would figure out what to do with our company policy.

  Then, maybe I would allow myself the leeway to indulge in those feelings that sat in my chest. Everything was dropping into place. All we had to do was hang on.

  Mr. Smith had made himself scarce, and I was beginning to believe that threat had passed, that he’d heeded Gunner’s warning of legal action and steered clear. No more drunken debacles.

  I entered the house, and Gunner came into the foyer, carrying Kim’s gift.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I said, right before he pulled me against him and gave me a lingering kiss.

  “Mm-hmm, that’s nice,” I murmured, and shifted the package into my arms.

  “I called Kim’s mom, and she knows.”

  We went out the front door and down the walk to the balloon-festooned mailbox of the house next door.

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  “Great,” I said, slipping my arm around his waist. “I got the call from Nitor.”

  He stopped walking and stared down at me. “For real?”

  “For real.”

  His eyes lit up and a smile danced across his face. “I can’t believe it. This is everything I could ever want, Lena.”

  I squeezed him hard. “Babe, this is only the beginning.”

  He squeezed me back. “You came through on every promise you made me. I owe you so much.”

  “I’ll just take my commission,” I said, bumping my hip against his, and he chuckled. Then sobered.

  I knew what he was thinking. The discussion of money was a bit awkward. Luckily, we were saved by Kim’s mom opening the door.

  It looked as if a tornado had struck. Birthday streamers and wrapping paper cluttered the floor, and the table was strewn with paper plates, plastic glasses, and leftover cake.

  “I’m so sorry we’re late,” I apologized. “It’s completely my fault.”

  “Oh, no worries,” Kim’s mom said. “She’s been so busy with her friends.” She turned and shouted, “Kim!” and Kim came at a run from the patio. “No running in the house,” her mom said as she came to a halt.

  “You came!”

  “Of course we did,” I said, giving her the package, and she grinned.

  “You brought presents,” she squealed.

  “Of course we did! Happy birthday, sweetie.”

  She took the present over to the table and started to rip off the wrapping. “A new helmet, Mom, and pads!” She ran over to me and hugged me around the waist. “Thanks so much, Helena.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She eyed Gunner. “You brought me something, too?”

  “Sure did.”

  “What?”

  “Open it up and see,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes and slowly opened the big gift bag. Her expression froze for a split second. Then her eyes lit up. “A skateboard! You got me a skateboard!” She looked up at her mother, her eyes wide with happy disbelief. “Gunner brought me a skateboard, Mom. Boy, my very own!” She lifted it out of the bag and turned it over in her hands. “And it’s pink.” The look of sheer ecstasy glazed her eyes as she ran her hands over the you go, girl! slogan.

  Her mother glanced at me, her eyes glinting. “I think you just made her day.” She reached out and squeezed Gunner’s arm. “You are so kind. Thank you so much for indulging my daughter.”

  “It’s no hardship, Mrs. Hull. I think Kim will be ripping it with the big boys when she gets older. You might see what competitions she can enter.”

  “I guess I better. And, please, call me Beth.”

  Just as Kim’s mom set a piece of cake in front of me, my cellphone rang again. When I saw the name, I went a little cold inside, my lips thinning.

  “Everything all right?” Gunner asked, leaning toward me.

  “It’s fine. But I’ve got to take this,” I said, smiling. I rose from the table and walked out of the house.

  “What do you want?” I snapped as soon as I was outside.

  “That’s not a very professional way to answer your phone.”

  “Cut the crap, Ray. What is it you want?”

  “Oh, I think you’ll have to meet me at Java Joe’s to find out. It’s sort of a show-and-tell kind of meeting.”

  “What? I’m not meeting you anywhere.”

  The jovial tone went out of his voice, and it hardened. “Oh, it’ll be in your best interest. I think you’ll want to see this in person. Fifteen minutes, Helena, and come alone.”

  It was starting to get dark by the time I got to Java Joe’s. I’d made a quick trip to the house to let Gunner know I had to go, and to apologize to Kim and her mom. I promised I would be back very shortly. Gunner said he’d see me back at the house.

  He’d eyed me, asking me again if everything was okay. My gut churned with the obvious gloating in Ray’s voice.

  I wouldn’t have any part of whatever slimy deal he was trying to make.

  When I got inside, I saw him sitting at a table in the back, a cup halfway to his lips. When he saw me, an oily grin spread across his face.

  I approached the table, and he waved me into a chair. “You’d better take a seat, sweetie.”

  “I’m not your sweetie,” I said as I dropped into the chair. “What is this about, Ray?”

  “Right to it. No chit-chatty preliminaries. You were always all business. Very well.” He threw a manila envelope at me and sat back as if he was waiting for the show to start.

  I was sick of this game he was playing. I undid the clasp and opened the flap. Alarm shot through me, the blood draining from my face.

  There were pictures, several of them, of Gunner and me passionately kissing at the Wick.

  “Should have gotten a room,” he drawled.

  “What do you think you’re going to do with these?” I said. My mouth had gone dry, and I was operating on sheer nerve, my voice calm and firm.

  “Sell them to a tabloid, put them on the Internet…how about post it on a billboard?”

  I couldn’t help it. I gasped. “Ray, you underhanded, sorry excuse for a man.”

  “You bitch,” he sneered, getting up and shoving his face into mine as he trapped me against the wall. I understood why he chose this spot. The barista couldn’t see us. “You’ve stuck it to me for the last time. You’re going to release Gunner Smith and strongly advise him to sign with me.”

  Disgust and anger cut through me, and I pried his fingers off my arm, shoving him back. “You’re out of your mind. I’ll take the consequences before I turn Gunner over to you. You can go straight to hell!” I responded, my tone defiant.

  His teeth clenched in fury. “You can put up all the bravado you want, but you have twenty-four hours to release him, or these find their way into the hands of the ravenous media. This kind of scandal almost brought Mavrick to ruin. How delicious it would be to not only destroy you, but my former employer.”

  “You got yourself fired with your shady business practices,” I snapped back, my tone biting. “You’re lucky my father didn’t dig deeper into the cesspool of your dealings. Now, get out of my way. I’m leaving.”r />
  He raised his hand to backhand me, but I crossed my arms, silently daring him. “Hit me, Ray,” I said in a cold, threatening tone. “And I promise you’ll be up on assault charges so fast, you won’t know what hit you.”

  His face contorted into an ugly sneer. He came toward me. “You are so high and mighty. You stooped to my level.”

  “Never. I might have bent the rules slightly, but I’ve never been that low.”

  He smiled another cold, malicious smile, growling with finality. “Twenty-four hours. Tick tock. There’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  I lifted my chin. “You keep thinking that,” I warned as he pulled out his phone and made a call.

  “Hello, Dave, it’s Ray.” He looked at me and smiled. “Yeah, that bitch won’t give in. I think it might be time for Plan B.”

  I turned on my heel, getting out of there. I needed to get to Gunner and explain what had happened, and that Ray had just called his dad.

  Now I understood why he had backed off. They were waiting for us to make this kind of mistake. Gunner’s father must have told Ray he thought we were romantically involved, and now the trap had closed.

  My cell rang as I wheeled to the curb and parked. I answered to discover it was the private investigator I hired to track down Gunner’s mother and sister. He had found them, and I pulled a pad of paper out of my purse, halting long enough to jot Julia and Madison Kane and their address in Denver. Then I went inside, calling out, “Gunner, are you—”

  I never finished my sentence. With a howl of fury, someone grabbed me by the hair and jerked my head back, a blow hitting the side of my face with jaw-rattling impact, the shock of the pain and surprise short-circuiting my brain. He hit me again, and my lip split. “You fucking meddling bitch! I’ll show you what happens to empty-headed shrews when they get in my way.”

  He threw me against the counter, and I crashed to the floor, slamming hard enough to knock the wind out of me.

  I felt his hand in my hair again. I wanted to fight back, but my body wouldn’t obey the frantic messages my brain sent it. Then I heard, “What the fuck?” The hand disappeared, and I managed to turn enough to see Gunner swing at his father and knock him to the floor.

  The out-of-control rage on his face scared me.

  I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop him from doing something he would regret for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 17

  Gunner

  When I saw my dad hit her, something in me snapped. I was on him so fast. I don’t remember moving. Memories of my mother’s battered face, my sister’s tears, tightened me up inside, and some animal instinct took over. I pulled him off her and smashed my fist into his face over and over again. I became the devil I hated and loathed. I forgot how tall I was. I forgot how much bigger I was. I forgot about my strength. All that frustration of being too small to make a difference welled up in me like a big, crashing wave that rolled over me with fury, twisting and turning me in a wake of red-hot anger.

  “Gunner! Stop! Stop! You’ll kill him!”

  Only her voice could penetrate this terrible burning fog. Only her touch could have stopped me from continuing my punishing assault. But she reached me. She reached me like she had reached me so many times since I first met her.

  I backed into her so hard she stumbled backward, but I caught her against me, my hands covered in my father’s blood mingling with my own. He managed to lurch to his feet, grabbing a kitchen towel to stop the blood flow from his nose, and he knew it was over. He knew he couldn’t intimidate me anymore, make me feel unworthy, useless, and good for nothing. I saw when he wrote me off. I saw when he dismissed me as just not worthy of his attention. I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. I would be lying if I said the little boy in me didn’t still want a father, not this man, not this terribly abusive and unhappy man.

  “Get the fuck out of here!” I screamed. “Get out! If you ever, ever put your hands on Lena again, I will fucking kill you. Get out!”

  He left without a word, stumbling quickly from the kitchen.

  I turned to her. “Oh God, your face.” I wanted to hit him again. I went to the freezer and got an ice pack and almost ripped the kitchen drawer off its runner getting her a towel to wrap the pack in. I gently laid it against her skin and our eyes met, and everything that I loved was in them. Her compassion, her pain, her very soul. “I’m so sorry.”

  I reached in my back pocket for my phone and called the cops, my eyes burning. They showed up about fifteen minutes later. Lena told them what happened, and they left to arrest my dad. I gave them his address with no remorse.

  I came back to the kitchen, and she was sitting at the kitchen table with the ice pack still on her face. It was already swelling and discoloring. She had her elbows braced on the table, and she was shaking so badly the table was quivering.

  Unable to watch her shiver any longer, I drew her up and slipped my arms around her. I walked into the living room and sank down on the couch, and she cuddled up to me. There wasn’t a trace of expression on her bloodless face, and the deadened look in her eyes scared the hell out of me.

  I watched her, a gnawing, uneasy feeling twisting through my gut. “I should never have agreed to do this. I knew what he was capable of, that he hated women. I knew and I still…it was selfish of me.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she said, her voice soft, cupping my jaw. “You weren’t selfish. None of this is your fault.”

  Her words deflected off me like I was metal. I fought for calm, stayed silent until I got my temper under control. Drawing a deep breath to keep my anger out of my voice, I said, “He’s not going to get away with this. He’s going to jail.”

  I had a nearly uncontrollable urge to go after my dad right then and there. Locking my jaw against the roiling sensation in my belly, I clenched and unclenched my teeth, trying to bring the new burst of anger under control, the hot, violent surge of adrenaline finally abating enough that I could at least affect a calm I didn’t feel.

  She quietly told me about her meeting with Ray Canton, and I wanted to track the bastard down and kick his ass.

  But instead, I rubbed her back and her breathing slowed, then she went slack as she dozed off. I rose and climbed the stairs with her in my arms. Feeling suddenly very shaky inside, I entered the darkened room and gently laid her down. I sat down in the chair across from the bed.

  I watched her sleep, a thousand feelings piling up in my chest. Guilt, uncertainty, self-doubt, fear, but—most of all—love.

  So many more emotions, I couldn’t define. But one was easy to recognize. Resignation. I knew what I had to do, and I didn’t want to. My heart, my muscles, my body rebelled. And suddenly, my vision blurred. God, but I loved her.

  I went back downstairs to turn off the light, and I saw a pad partially sticking out from the kickboard. I bent down and picked it up and froze solid.

  The names jumped out at me. Julia and Madison Kane. The handwriting was Lena’s. She’d found them for me. I covered my mouth, my eyes burning, and that hole inside me felt so empty.

  I ripped off the sheet and pulled out my wallet, tucking the paper safely inside. Then I called Falcon.

  He answered on the first ring. “What up, bro?”

  I told him everything, and he was silent.

  “Oh, man, that’s heavy stuff. But, Gunner, you can’t give up,” he said fiercely. “That’s giving in.”

  “I see no other answer. I didn’t want to argue with you, Falcon. I just wanted you to know. You’ve been a great friend to me, especially when I needed you to be. I wanted to thank you and say goodbye.”

  “Dude, I’m saying this for your own good. You’ve got to get to the other side, or you’re going to lose everything.”

  “The other side?”

  “Of fear, bro. Use that to your advantage, and if you don’t keep in touch, I will track you down and kick your ass. We clear?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Later, dude.” />
  I went back upstairs. I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to disturb her, so I sat down in the chair near the bed again.

  I wasn’t sure if I believed in the way she looked at me as if I was the kind of guy who could pluck the moon out of the sky. I wanted to be that kind of guy.

  I wanted to kiss her mouth, feel the pressure of her against me in a way that would feel like coming back to life after dying. I had never kissed a woman like her, but it was there suddenly, in my mind, my gaze drifting to her lips, a hot longing curling deep in my gut.

  For the longest time, the only thing I had wanted was to be safe. There was nothing safe about Lena Mavrick, not for my heart or sanity. Those thoughts did nothing. Nothing at all to alleviate the kind of pressure in me to touch her like a touchstone, a lifeline to keep me from madness.

  I felt the pull of her so much it hurt. But I recognized it. Falcon was right. Everything I ever wanted was on the other side of fear.

  I’d eaten it for so long, every time my father took a swallow, every time he hit my mother, every time he hit me. Every single time. I squeezed my hands into fists to stop the sudden trembling.

  Real life. That’s what had screwed me up. Alcoholism was as real as it got, and I had the bruises and the scars to prove it.

  I’d been lost, trying to juggle the realities of my father’s addiction. It had permeated every waking moment of my life. It affected me at home. It affected my friendships, my schoolwork, my love life. It affected how I acted and what I said. It made me who I was.

  I woke up with a start and saw that Lena was awake, staring at me. The bruises on her face made my heart lurch.

  Her eyes tracked down to my black leather bag.

  She blinked a couple of times. “Gunner, please don’t do this.”

  I rose. “I have to go. It’s the best thing I can do for you.” My breath hitched as I picked up the bag. I headed for the door and only made it to the bottom of the stairs. She came flying down after me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

  “Gunner, give me time. Please. Don’t throw it all away when this wasn’t even your fault.”

  “He would never have hit you if it wasn’t for me. Ray wouldn’t be blackmailing you if it wasn’t for me.”