Puck Battles: A Complete Sports Romance Series

by Kristen Echo

  “Go on.”

  Cherie closed her eyes, splayed her fingers on the island and breathed deeply. She looked at Gwen and shook her head. “I lost a mother and a sister within a few months of each other, and I grew stronger. I learned to depend on myself. You lost a mother and Westlyn’s father a few years later, and you blamed the world. It’s always been poor Gwen. Let’s help Gwen.”

  “For starters, I don’t blame the world,” she countered.

  “What pisses me off, is I stepped up and took care of Dad. Not you.” Cherie stood and took a sip of water. “Yet, he divided everything equally. You did nothing for him, except steal his retirement income with all your mistakes. You insisted on being a single parent, living in the most expensive city in this country because you wanted Wes to see her father’s roots. So, Dad worked longer to support you. I get it was his choice. Then he got sick. I took him for treatments. I watched him wither away. And you couldn’t be bothered to show your face until the last hour.”

  The words stung like stepping on a bee hive. It was clear her sister wanted to fight. Gwen couldn’t take the bait. “You’re being dramatic. I used every second of leave I had to be there for him. Are you seriously pissed about the money? You’re pushing me away because of money.”

  Cherie set the half-glass of water down and tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s the principal; not the money. You did nothing to earn it other than share some DNA. Then you wasted your inheritance on a loser. You always help the wrong people.”

  Gwen couldn’t bite her tongue any longer. “I’m not perfect. I’ve made expensive mistakes and trusted poorly. Dad helped when he could, but I never asked for a dime. The inheritance money was supposed to fund a project that would have helped thousands of kids stay away from drugs. Given our family history, I figured… well, it didn’t happen.”

  “No, it didn’t,” Cherie repeated. “Because your broke-ass-boyfriend stole the money. You really know how to pick ’em.”

  “Another shining moment for me,” she said, hanging her head.

  Cherie grabbed her water and tossed the contents at Gwen. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

  The cold liquid splashed against her face and shirt. Rather than get pissed, Gwen laughed. The water dripped down her chin and onto the island. She wiped her face with her arm and fanned her shirt. “Feel better?”

  Her sister laughed. “Maybe. I’m sorry,” she said, handing her a towel from the drawer. “Look, my love life hasn’t been stellar either. I don’t chase losers like you but catching a successful and ambitious man isn’t easy. Lots of men shy away from successful women. Spencer isn’t like that. I apologize for not telling you I’d bumped into him at a fundraiser. We’ve been getting closer and I don’t want to jinx it. He’s amazing. I’m glad you’re not mad about us dating.”

  Her sister was chasing Spencer.

  It hurt to hear her sister confess she liked him romantically. Gwen hadn’t meant to cause problems. Her sister deserved a good man, but not him. She could have any man, except her ex.

  “We slept together,” Gwen admitted.

  “A long time ago, and I don’t care. I told you before, I only look ahead. I see a bright future with him. Our social circles connect perfectly. Already, being seen with him has opened a few doors for me.” Cherie smiled, making Gwen squirm on the stool.

  “He’s not the man for you.”

  “Why? Because you met him first like a million years ago. Who cares? He’s mine now,” she declared.

  “He’s not yours. Cherie, you can’t be with Spencer.”

  “Just because you won’t date a man with money doesn’t mean that rule applies to me. He’s a sexy billionaire. There aren’t many of those around.” Cherie flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You say you’re not mad, but you don’t seem happy for us.”

  “Spencer told me he wanted a second chance, and we made love the other night. It’s not ancient history. I had no idea you two were involved. Had I known—”

  Green eyes narrowed as she lifted her perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Well, you sure moved fast.”

  A long and awkward silence followed.

  “I’m sorry,” Gwen said.

  “I overheard you tell Wes you moved back to the motel.” Her tone turned glacial. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to hurt you. I honestly moved here because I needed my sister. Men will come and go, but we’re family. Wes is going through so much and she needs you. I need a friend,” Gwen acknowledged. “Can you please forgive me?”

  Cherie seemed to consider her words and nodded. “I’m going to let the past go and that includes you sleeping with Spencer. I used to wish you’d move home and here you are. You still owe me money, but I won’t lord the reasons over your head any longer. It takes too much effort to hate you.”

  Gwen jumped off the stool and hugged her sister. Cherie patted her back. It was a start.

  “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.” Gwen chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering about Spencer. If Cherie could forgive her, maybe he could too.

  “I told you I’d make calls and find you someplace to live and I’m working on it. Westlyn can stay with me, but I don’t think we should live together. We’re still not on solid ground.” She held up her hand when Gwen went to hug her again. “Give me a few days and I’ll get you out of the motel.”

  “Spencer offered a—”

  “Absolutely not. You slept with my… Spencer. It’s completely inappropriate for you to be anywhere near him again. Are we clear? I’m willing to overlook his wandering. I have no claim on him yet. Plus, with our busy schedules, I wouldn’t expect monogamy. He can sleep with other women, but not you.”

  The wind evaporated from her sails, leaving her adrift in the sea. Gwen suspected her sister’s interest in him had less to do with the man and everything to do with the zero’s in his bank account. However, that made no sense, since Cherie prided herself on making her own money and never riding on the coattails of others. This seemed more calculated.

  “Are you dating him to punish me?” Gwen tried to read her sister’s expression, but Cherie turned her face away and shrugged her shoulders. “Did you purposefully seek him out to hurt me?”

  “I’m interested in Spencer Northcote because he’s a catch. It has nothing to do with you,” she explained.

  Gwen didn’t buy it. “You’ve only been out a few times, and it’s not serious. Please date someone else,” she begged.

  “You choose someone else,” her sister challenged. “Better yet, you should go. I have to get ready for work.”

  She rubbed her ears. Unable to believe what she’d heard. “I’m not fighting with you over a man. I don’t want to fight at all.”

  Cherie walked to the door, and she followed. “Good. Figure things out on your own. I’ll call you about the apartment in a few days.”

  Shocked and out of sorts, Gwen left. She walked back to her motel. If she called Spencer, she’d lose her sister forever. If she didn’t call Spencer, her heart was likely to explode. After hours of wandering the streets, she had no solution.

  When she arrived at the motel, her feet were blistered and aching but inside she was numb. The clerk at the front desk informed her the credit card she’d given them was declined. She had no money left and couldn’t stay. They were nice enough to let her grab her stuff before kicking her out.

  What a nightmare.

  The first person she wanted to call was Wes. But it would be best for her daughter not to worry. She’d gotten herself into this mess and she had to find a way out. Easier said than done. Even if she begged someone for work, the money wouldn’t come for a few days.

  For the first time in her life, she was officially homeless. She stumbled upon a park near the river and cried. Nestled in the trees along the bank she curled into a ball and let it all out.

  Day turned to night. She was exhausted. As the sun tucked behind the horizon, her phone buzzed. Spencer. She wasn’t ready to face him and ignored
the call that would only devastate her more.

  Chapter 12

  She woke up with the sun beaming on her face. Based on its low position in the sky, the day had just begun. The soil beside her was damp as she got up and stretched. Sleeping on the ground wasn’t the most restful, but things could have been worse. At least it wasn’t raining.

  The last time she’d slept outside it had been part of a fundraising effort to raise awareness about homelessness. It was ironic given her current situation. The skies had opened, and the rain had poured all night, drenching everyone from head to toe. It had been worth it. They’d raised over forty thousand dollars for the cause.

  This time there was no reason for her to be sleeping outside, other than her own obstinate stupidity. Her need to atone for past wrongs continued to plague her. Cherie might never forgive her for leaving. They might never be close like before their mother’s death. After all these years, Gwen had to let go of that dream.

  The limited sleep had forced her to reevaluate her goals. The more she tossed and turned the clearer things became. She had an epiphany.

  She was an idiot. Plain and simple.

  Second chances at true love and happiness were not common. They weren’t handed out like candy at Halloween, and she was throwing hers away. Her sister was angry at her, and punishing her for past mistakes, but she loved her. They were blood. At the end of the day, they’d find a way to work past the problems. Spencer was a different story. She’d hurt him, not once but twice.

  Gwen rubbed her shoulder. Her back ached and her arms itched. Inspecting her skin, she saw several mosquito bites. Stupid bugs. She scratched the raised red bumps and ran her fingers through her wild mane, picking out the blades of grass.

  She wiped her hands on her pants, which proved to be a mistake. Her clothing was damp from the morning dew. A layer of mud covered her jeans and her once pink sweater. It had been dark when she finally picked a place to sleep. The closest shelter was blocks away, and she’d been too wiped out to make the trek. In her exhausted state, she hadn’t noticed the layer of topsoil covering the freshly seeded lawn.

  Using her phone as a mirror, she checked her reflection. Patches of dirt clung to her cheek. Wiping it away, she succeeded at looking dirtier. She cursed and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She scrolled through the missed calls and messages. Spencer wasn’t giving up. That was a good sign. Her heart soared though she knew she had some heavy duty groveling ahead.

  The last messages were from Westlyn. Nothing from her sister or Reba. The drop-in center was open, and they had shower facilities. She considered heading there to clean up. A group of young men walked by her. She looked down and avoided eye contact. If she was too embarrassed to be seen by strangers, she definitely didn’t want Reba to see her like that. She didn’t want Spencer or Wes to see her either.

  After washing her face and hands in a nearby fountain, Gwen sat on a bench under the shade of an elm tree. She crossed her legs. One of her sandals fell off. The blisters on her foot looked angry and inflamed.

  As she debated where to go, her phone rang. She smiled when she saw Westlyn’s name on the screen. “Hi, my girl.”

  “Mom, where are you? Don’t lie to me,” she warned.

  Gwen leaned forward, planting her elbows on her knees. “I’m at a park. Why? What’s going on?”

  “Which park? I’m at the motel and they said you aren’t a guest anymore.” The worry in her voice rang loud and clear. “Care to explain where you slept last night?”

  “I’m a few blocks away. The park by the river. You—”

  “Stay there. I’m on my way,” Wes huffed. “Did you sleep there last night?”

  “Do you really need to know?” Gwen rubbed her insole. She needed a couple of bandages and better shoes. No more half-day treks across the city in flip-flops.

  “Oh, Mom. We shouldn’t have to discuss the dangers of—”

  “This hasn’t been one of my finer decisions. I’d appreciate if we can gloss over the sleeping quarters,” she said, switching legs and inspecting her other foot. It was in better shape with only one massive blister under her big toe.

  A few minutes later, Westlyn ran towards her. Her cheeks were rosy from exertion. She dropped onto the bench, huffing and puffing. “This park is bigger than I thought. I should have asked which side you were on. You look like hell,” she panted, hugging her mother.

  “You look amazing,” she replied, admiring her daughter. “Red is your color.”

  “You’re not allowed to sleep on the streets or parks or whatever. We might be homeless, but we’re not out of options. Anything could have happened.” She sniffled, and her big eyes filled with moisture. “Not when Spencer offered us a place. Not when—”

  Gwen hugged her again. “I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again.”

  “Promise? I need you to pinky promise,” Wes said, holding out her pinky finger and blinking away the tears.

  Pinky promises were serious business. Gwen had made Wes do the same after they’d left the hospital in Vancouver. She’d asked her to pinky promise never to hurt herself again. Gwen wiped the tear that escaped. “I promise I won’t sleep on the streets. There are always other options.”

  They hooked fingers and shook on it.

  Gwen sat back. “I thought you were working this morning. How come you’re up and at the motel?”

  A sheepish look crossed Westlyn’s features. “I got worried when I couldn’t reach you. Sometimes a girl needs her mommy,” she said in a mock childish voice.

  She suspected there was more to it than that but didn’t push the issue. “So, you’re not working today?”

  “I’m on the clock, but Connie has school. Spencer suggested I go find you and bring you home. Pretty sweet of him. Right?”

  It was beyond nice. Somehow, he knew exactly what she needed before she did. “Did you eat? I’ve got a granola bar in my bag.”

  “You know he’s an early riser like you.” Wes drummed her fingers on her knees. “He also loves croissants. I’m just saying, you two have a bunch in common.”

  “Are you trying to play matchmaker?” She lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m not Cupid,” Wes said while shooting a make-believe bow and arrow. “I won’t even pretend to understand how old people date.”

  Gwen playfully slammed her shoulder against her daughter. “Hey! I’m not old. Where is Mr. Northcote?” She searched the open area but saw only a group of young men gathered near the riverbank. “I assume you didn’t get here that quickly by foot.”

  Wes shook her head and her hair covered her face. She removed her phone from her pocket. Her fingers moved across the screen. “He dropped me at the park entrance and offered us some time to be alone. I told him my lecture might be a long one, and I’d text when we are ready to be picked up. I get that you want to do things on your own, but you’re being irresponsible.”

  Looking at her wrinkled clothing, she cringed. Her daughter’s word choice was spot on. Gwen had been reckless. If the roles were reversed, she’d have torn a strip off Wes.

  “Again, I apologize for making you worry. It’s not like I planned to fight with my sister and run out of cash. I sure hadn’t planned for you to catch me at my lowest.” Gwen chewed the inside of her cheek. Not only had Westlyn found her crawling from the gutter, Spencer would see her after a night on the street.

  “Who are you texting with?” she asked when her daughter didn’t look up from her phone.

  Old friends seemed unlikely given the sun wasn’t even up on the coast. Wes had told her before they left that she didn’t want to keep in touch with any of her old friends because the memories were too painful. It was too hard. Gwen understood and wanted to give her the same reset she’d taken when she’d left Winnipeg. Sometimes a fresh start could do wonders.

  “No one. Just playing on my phone.”

  “Right. Are you chatting with Spencer?” She rubbed her legs and flakes of mud chipped off. She
needed to change clothes.

  The park offered no change rooms. She glanced at her suitcase and back around. The group of young men she’d noticed earlier stood by the river. She pushed the sleeves on her arm towards her biceps. It was getting warmer by the minute.

  The lack of privacy didn’t seem to bother the men from dealing drugs less than twenty feet away from them. Gwen witnessed the money exchange hands and quickly looked away.

  “We should go.” She grabbed Westlyn’s hand, and they stood. Her eyes returned to the men as one pushed a needle into his tattooed arm.

  With her back to the group, Wes pulled her hand away and planted them on her hips. “I’m not done lecturing you!”

  When the four men stepped towards them, Gwen’s heart jumped into her throat. She didn’t care for the way they were smiling at her and checking out her daughter. With the bench behind them, they were trapped.

  “Well, the morning just got more interesting. It’s nice to see such beautiful women out and about,” a young man said with a heavy accent. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t seen you around this area before. And I know everyone here.”

  Wes turned towards the attractive drug dealer. “Excuse me?”

  His finely cut features and bright green eyes contorted as he laughed. There was something sinister hidden behind his crooked smirk. His good-looks didn’t fool Gwen. The way the others followed his lead, she suspected he was the ringleader.

  “We aren’t from around here, and we were just leaving.” She shuffled left, hoping to leave without incident. She kept her eyes on the group, looking at each man and memorizing their features in case she needed to file a police report. They were all in their early twenties, but the similarities ended there.

  A heavier set man with tattoos covering his arms closed their small window of escape. Judging by the way his pupils shifted it was clear the drugs had taken effect. “Stay awhile. I’m sure we can find plenty of fun things to do together.”