Pain & Redemption

by Kat Kenyon

  Ignoring my jab to the ribs, he starts laughing. “No, seriously, Granddad is covering next semester and anything I want, and I do have a scholarship for next year.”

  “Congrats!”

  “I know, right?” He practically glows when he says it. Twisting us back and forth, he continues, “I earned it, and I’m proud of it. As for Dad and the money, Granddad’s money gave him a chance to build a big business. He didn’t have a shot at a loan back when he started the company, but Granddad gave him a chance most people never have, and if he hasn’t paid it back or taken care of his shit, it’s on him. I’m gonna work hard to stay healthy, take care of myself, and make sure you and me are good. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the only thing I have to do. In three years, I’ll have a contract and a degree, and I’ll be able to take care of myself.” Cupping my face with both hands, he presses his forehead to mine. “I’ll be able to take care of us, Rayne.”

  Clarity so stark it’s staggering shines from his eyes, liquid-gold fire with flashes of bright green light. He means it.

  “We’ll take care of each other.”

  A soft kiss links us deeper than any physical act ever could, and I close my eyes and let my mind wander to a future. A real one with him.

  Do I really have a chance at that kind of future?

  “It’s not a chance, Rayne. It’s a promise. A guarantee.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tyler Blackman

  The blue darkness of the last few months has lifted, life seemingly put through a gold filter on the way to Dixon, both of us needing to get through our responsibilities.

  Relief that it’s all been put on the table and then forgiven, gives me more energy and power than any meal, win, or ounce of luck ever could. Even through the hard parts, in her moments of fear, she didn’t lock me out. She reached out to me.

  She’s my girl again, only better, because I don’t feel weak or afraid.

  Dropping her in Dixon’s lobby for her shift is the only minus, simply because I want to soak up time with her until I have her smell embedded in my skin, my hair, until I can smell her on me permanently. But we both have jobs, and even as I get her settled securely behind the reception desk, lifting her into the chair, she’s already doing hers, making sure people swipe in and waving at the teammates who come in behind us. Teammates who I ignore because I’ll be stuck with them for the next few hours.

  “Later, go crush ’em, Cyborg,” she says, giving me a silly grin.

  “I am a machine,” I say, a single brow rising to remind her I perform on more than one field.

  “Nasty boy.” A blush creeps up her neck, the pale skin set off against the pink.

  “And you’re a dirty girl.”

  Taking advantage of a lull, I bend and suck on the deep purple mark decorating her skin, sliding my hand between us, hiding my move and pinching hard on her nipple. I’m rewarded with a moan and hands on my chest, pushing me away.

  “Go. No more. There are cameras here.”

  “That could be fun someday.” I give her a lecherous sweep from head to toe, imagining what she’d look like on camera.

  Perfect.

  Pointed toes press into my hips, and she pushes me away from her chair, bright laughter filling the space as she points behind me. “Nasty. Just fucking nasty.”

  Walking backward, I wait until the last moment to lose sight before heading down the hall. “You like me that way.”

  Her laughter follows me down the hall, leaving a smile on my face.

  I’m greeted by catcalls when I open the locker room door.

  In the past, this kind of joking or ribbing has been met by my rage, frustration, and pain. In a snap of her fingers, this sounds like family welcoming me home. Nosy, annoying family, but mine, and after letting them howl for a couple minutes, I respond with a good-natured middle finger and a happy, “Fuck off, get a life.”

  McVey’s subtle nod from across the room tells me how he thinks it went. A sharp clench of gratefulness fills my return nod, a smile breaking out. Understanding passes between us for a minute. His grin says it all.

  I can’t begin to tell him how much I owe him. In the long run, I owe him for the life we’re going to have, for the feeling of air pumping freely in my lungs for the first time since October. I don’t know how I can ever repay him.

  Stepping onto the practice field, I’m free to focus on football like I haven’t since I started the season.

  Just in time too, because the Warriors are going to the Rose Bowl. We’re a Southern California team and the Rose Bowl is the Southern California bowl. The parade, the people, the weather, it’s something you dream about if you are a player from this area, and it’s something I’ve always wanted. Until today, I haven’t felt the rush of excitement, but the wind on my face and the sound of players moving, even the sight of photographers, pumps adrenaline and pride down my long-dormant nerve endings.

  The nation will be watching, fan and non-fans, the people who don’t watch sports will be watching our team prove we are the best, that we’re a force of nature that can sweep away all comers.

  We’re going into this game without several key players, our defense run-down and in need of rest.

  In a lot of ways, we’re running on fumes, with a couple of newer guys on the line, needing to fill spots left behind by experienced players who understood the rhythm of our plays and coverage. It’ll be work to make sure all the pieces and parts work, but I’m not worried. I’m happy all the way through a grueling practice.

  At the end, we’re all called into a huddle, the coaching team letting everyone know how things are going to play out for the next few days. New starters have to come in for extra work, giving people like Mike and Kevin shit-eating grins at the prospect of playing.

  When the offense gets released, I’m stopped by McVey. “You look better,” he chuckles.

  “I feel better.”

  “Pack on a little weight man, we need you knocking down their defense.” He slaps me on the back and heads out the door in front of me. “And Tyler…”

  “Yeah?”

  A teasing smile, then, “Tell Rayne I said hey.” The fucker laughs at me, but I can’t be mad. I’m happy that however he knew, whatever he knew, it gave me back my girl.

  He gave me back my girl.

  Flipping him off, I watch the ground as I shake my head.

  “Not my thing, I like girls. But, you do you, man.”

  A short shoving match later, I follow the chuckling idiot down the hall.

  I rush through getting ready, slapping at hands as my teammates give me shit on my way out. Each step toward the lobby is like going downhill with no plans to stop, each one easier, faster, and exhilarating.

  Expecting to find a smile when I come around the corner, I’m surprised to see Rayne’s boss, Facility Director Mason, standing at the desk, hands on hips, spine straight with tension.

  Next to him, she’s sitting on the tall stool, black cargo pants slung low on her hips, her shoulder-baring, long-sleeved, dark red shirt snug around her torso.

  Her long, blond hair was pulled back in a low knot at her neck when I left her, but her hands are raking through it, practically pulling it out in frustration.

  “…a problem. I know this isn’t your fault. But, it’s good we’re going on break. I’ve let the administration know.”

  She doesn’t see me approach as she says, “They’re not gonna do a damn thing. Director Mason, I need this job.”

  “I’m not letting you go, but we’ll look at your schedule for next semester and see what we can do about moving your hours. We can’t have you here at night like we planned.”

  Seeing me, she straightens and gives me a genuine, but strained smile.

  “I know, I’m just—Having campus safety take me home should have been enough.”

  I step up and wrap my arms around her. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “Director Mason,” I say, shaking his hand.

 
; “Blackman.” He gives a nod, looking at my forearms wrapped around her shoulders, a hint of amusement flashing on his face. “You and the team ready for the big game?”

  “We’re getting there, sir.”

  “Well, I’ll let the two of you get out of here. Molly is in back, so you can leave, Rayne. Get out of here and enjoy the holiday.”

  “See you in the new year, Director Mason,” she says softly, leaning back against me.

  “Be good, you two.”

  As he leaves, she jumps off the stool. Grabbing her small purse from under the massive desk, she turns and buries her head in my chest, grabbing my dick and biting my chest.

  “And what did I do to deserve that? I need to know so I can do it again.”

  I thrust a little into the hand stroking me, before wrapping her in my arms, realizing that shit’s visible through my track pants.

  Her small, sad laugh snaps my eyes down. “You came back. You came for me.”

  “Of course I did.”

  She has no idea.

  “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

  She pulls on my hand, walking us toward the door and calling out to her replacement, but doesn’t say anything until we’re outside.

  Tucking her into my body when her skin pebbles, I guide her toward the parking lot, letting her take her time. It takes a couple minutes to start and I can tell she’s struggling.

  “I was supposed to have a couple late shifts next semester, but there was a package at the front office today.” She shivers and holds on tighter. “I don’t know how it got there or how he knew I would be there, but a text came in as soon as I got in, and there was a package with lingerie and a note. The text said not to be so difficult, and the note said we’d be together soon.”

  She cringes even as rage boils up inside me.

  “He left fucking lingerie and a threat!” My skin tightens to bursting and my temper explodes. “Are you kidding me? When the fuck is the school going to do something?”

  Her eyes squeeze shut for a moment. “He’s been reprimanded by the school and his coaches, ordered to stay away, but he’s still around.”

  Her harsh breath makes me get myself under control. She’s scared, and it’s about her, not me.

  “Director Mason can’t let me work late, especially since someone had to take it inside. He knew when I’d be there during the holiday.”

  This shit is scary and sick, and I don’t understand why the school hasn’t done anything. “What can I do?”

  “I have to go talk to the dean, again. He’ll ignore me, again, but I could use the company.”

  “You aren’t alone.”

  Her smile hits me like a train at full speed. “I know.” I can see her bracing herself. Resetting. “I have other options. I just hate using them.”

  “You gonna call Anne?”

  “Yeah, I think I have to.”

  When we reach the door of my truck, I open it and put her in. She’s light in my hands as I lift, and I lean in between her legs as she settles in the seat.

  I want to touch her as much as I can. The simple hug she gives me, holding on tight with both hands, feels like life. She’s been strong for so long, I don’t want her feeling that she doesn’t have all the support in the world.

  And, whether she likes it or not, her family name has money, and money is power.

  “I think you should.” I wrap her hands in mine. “We’ll go talk to them, but like you said, just talking won’t do shit. Have Anne throw her boss’s name around. If people responded to the Stevens’ name, use your family name. Fight fire with fire.”

  She grimaces, and I get it, but I’m worried. “I know you don’t like to do that. I know you don’t want to, but sometimes it’s necessary. We both need to learn to ask for help. We’ve both been under too much pressure and we’ve acted like there are no resources.” Sighing, I hate to admit Vaan had a point. “My therapist keeps saying it’s a stupid martyr complex. Well, that’s not exactly right, but it’s close enough.”

  Her eyes soften and her tension fades bit by bit. “We aren’t good at talking, are we?”

  “We weren’t. But, we are now.” We’d managed to talk about so many things in just a day that we wouldn’t have been able to talk about before.

  “We are now,” she says, brightening when I smile at her.

  “Yes, we are.”

  Grinning at her, my fingers slip into her waistband, warmth from soft skin heating my chilly fingers.

  “And we ask for help,” I tell her.

  “Yeah.”

  Scooting forward, she wraps her legs around my waist. She knows I’m here, and she isn’t alone. It shows when she bites her lip hard and runs her hands up my forearms, holding on tight.

  “Will Anne help?”

  “Yeah. Once I explain what’s going on. She knows what happened before.” Her lip gets savaged again. “She’ll be pissed I didn’t tell her before, but she’ll help with whatever I need.”

  “Do you think your grandfather will step in?” I know this a sore topic, but I need to ask.

  “No.” She just about snorts. “He’ll let her do whatever she thinks is appropriate as long as it’s not public, but he isn’t going to do shit.”

  Her eyes shutter for a moment. No matter what she says, I know it hurts that they don’t care, so I pull our bodies close and kiss her forehead.

  “You’re mine. I’m yours. We take care of each other, okay? The rest of the world is nothing but the cherry on top. We’re the fucking cake and icing both, we aren’t missing a thing.”

  Her face tips up, smiling before she kisses me.

  We’re the cake and icing, baby, and I’ve got you.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Rayne Mathews

  I got a text during dinner letting me know I have an appointment with the dean in the morning. Director Mason already filed a report and sent a request to his office, expediting my path to hear the same bullshit again. When I stared at it for too long, Tyler had to coax me to let it go for the night.

  The next day, after he gets out of practice, we walk together to the meeting. The brief cool-down reprieve in our part of the country has vanished, and the walk is hot. It doesn’t stop us from wrapping around one another, his arm heavy around my shoulder, mine around his waist.

  The weight is stabilizing and needed. Each step feels like walking a pirate’s plank because I don’t see how this will be any different from the other times I’ve asked for help. He tries to take my mind off it by telling me about his film study this morning, and it’s the sound of his voice, his deep chuckling amusement, that makes it possible to keep going.

  There’s a blast of air when we step into the admin building, which is largely empty with all the students home for the holidays. We’re able to step into the elevator right away, with no stops on the way up to the dean’s office.

  For what feels like the hundredth time, I walk past the heavy wood door into his waiting room. But this is the first time Tyler’s been with me, and his hand at the small of my back gives me hope, even when I know better.

  The dean’s secretary is the only one there, and she gives me a strained smile when she sees me, picking up the phone to let him know I’m there. It takes less than a minute for his door to open. He looks frazzled, not his usual, fake, calm and professional self.

  “Miss Mathews, come on in.”

  He steps back and waves me inside. Tyler stays right with me to the door, his hand never falling, presence never changing. The dean frowns for a moment as we start to pass him.

  “Um, this will be a private meeting, so could you wait out here?”

  Darting a glance back, Tyler’s eyes put the question to me.

  “I’d like him with me.”

  Irritation colors the dean’s fake smile. “I can appreciate you want to give her support, but this is a very delicate matter.”

  The temperature drops when Tyler glares at him, looking down with disgust. “I’m aware of the subjec
t matter. I’m also aware you should have kicked his ass off campus months ago. If she wants me with her, I’m coming.”

  Unsure what to do, the dean tries again, discomfort clear. “The situation is private.”

  “Not from him.”

  His eyes snap back to me, worry creasing his forehead. “If you’re really sure. This is very personal, I’m not sure you want—”

  “Don’t.” Tyler’s hand flexes on my back when I snap, coming closer to press his front to my back. “Dean Lister, don’t think you can guess what I want. I’ve been here over and over, so has my boss, my RA, and you’ve only cared about what Gabe wanted. Tyler comes with me.”

  Resigned and looking uncomfortable, he steps back, letting us both pass. Seconds after, we all sit and he motions to a document on his desk.

  “I’m aware you feel like we haven’t taken this situation seriously, but I can assure you, I do want what’s best for you.”

  “Is that why you let him beat on me and did nothing?” I can’t help the sarcasm that filters into my voice.

  Tyler’s hand wraps around mine.

  Wincing, he gives a subtle nod. “We ordered him to stay away.”

  “You’ve ignored me. He put me in the hospital then stalked me to this campus and you did nothing. He’s put his hands on me here multiple times, threatened me, followed me, and you did nothing.”

  “We felt we were balancing everyone’s interests.”

  I can tell he’s struggling, and I don’t care.

  “You mean your soccer team’s interests and money versus my safety.”

  Pinching his brows, he finally seems to drop the official act. His sigh is more of a groan as he looks at me apologetically.

  “Miss Mathews, I’m sorry we didn’t do more before now. I’ll admit, it looks like we’ve put trivial interests in front of your well-being, but we’re going to change that now.” He glances back down at the document. “This kind of behavior, dropping off lingerie at Dixon, that is disturbing.”

  “And him punching her wasn’t?” Tyler’s growls make his eyes widen.

  “I didn’t say that. But, sexual intimidation like this means there’s more than simple fighting or anger.”