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Hang Em' Up: A Bad Boy Sports Pregnancy Romance

Page 66

by Ashley Stewart


  “What? No. What do you mean a thing?” He had one hand planted on the wall and was leaning in a little too close. I took a step back and held my hands out peaceably.

  “I'm seeing someone.”

  “Who?” he demanded. It wasn't really his business, and I considered telling him that, but instead I explained as briefly as possible.

  “Adrian Ardic. He's an importer from Colorado I met during spring break, and he’s flying me to his house in a private jet this weekend. So no, I don't have time to go see a movie or something.”

  It felt wrong to leave Raphe out in the cold--we'd been friends for about as long as we'd both been at MIT, and occasionally more--but things were different now.

  Soon enough, I graduated. I was relieved, partly because I really hadn't been sure I was going to finish some assignments on time. But I did it. Marisol met Adrian enough times that she reluctantly allowed me to go live with him. It was never her decision, but I humored her. He was all ready to whisk me away. He flew down to watch me graduate. I introduced him to my parents. They didn't chase him away from me on sight, at least, but boy, what a lecture I got from them after he was gone...

  In the end though, they relented. I explained how our arrangement was going to work, how I'd be totally free to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. They came with me to the airfield and waved goodbye from the tarmac as Adrian's pilot took us up and away.

  Aspen! Aspen gave a very different impression when I first stepped out of the plane than the Bahamas did. It was colder than the islands were, though still far from anything you could call cold.

  Adrian's house was enormous, of course. He stayed at home most of the time, worked from his home office and never wanted anything he didn't get soon after. I'd stayed here a few times over the last semester, but it took me a while to adjust to actually living here.

  About a week after I moved in, I was taking a walk around the neighborhood. Adrian had been called away on business. A lady in a grey sweat suit was jogging in my direction, and I assumed she'd pass me, and so just kept walking.

  She didn't keep jogging. She stopped and stood in my way.

  “So, you're Adrian's new housemate, huh?” she said. There was nothing pleasant in her voice.

  “I'd go with girlfriend, but sure, whatever you want to call it.”

  “Oh, I see. That's how it is. I'll just stick to shameless naïve little hussy.”

  I resisted the urge to smack her across the face. “Excuse me?” My mind was racing. Who the hell did this lady think she was? How did she know Adrian, and why did she care about me living with him? I didn't think I'd ever seen her around before, but I guessed she'd seen me, either in my comings and goings before summer or when I moved in.

  “You enjoy yourself while you can, won't you?” She feigned sincerity. “Wouldn't want to waste the time you have before he moves onto someone else.”

  “You're a real bitch, you know that?” I said. I couldn't think of anything witty, given how confused I was. She just huffed in response, pushing past me and resuming her jog.

  Chapter Nine

  I remembered that woman I met in the neighborhood when Adrian got back from his business trip. I asked him about her over dinner.

  “Do you know anyone who would care about me being here with you?” I said delicately.

  “Why do you ask?” He seemed curious but not all that concerned.

  “I was out taking a walk the other day and a woman in a grey sweat suit came up and started talking shit.” I laid it out. “She said you were going to keep me until you found someone more interesting and then drop me. I know that's not true, but I don't know why she cares.”

  He was silent for a long moment. I started to panic for no apparent reason. “That sounds like Sally,” he said after what felt like an hour of thinking.

  “Who's Sally?” I asked, maybe a bit too quickly.

  “She's, well, there's no other way to put it. She's my ex-wife. Sounds like she just kept getting more bitter after I stopped talking to her.”

  “Wow, okay,” I said. “I need a second to process this.”

  “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It didn't occur to me.” He acted like this didn't really matter to him, looking away and casually leaning back in his chair. I wasn't sure if that meant he really didn't care, or if he was trying to hide something. I didn’t know if I was getting a little paranoid or not. Then again, Marisol's advice not to take risks was repeating itself in my head on loop.

  “How long ago were you...?” I let the question hang there unfinished.

  “We split up four years ago, but kept in contact for two more. Eventually she stopped answering my calls, so I considered us completely finished.”

  “You kept calling? Did you still like her? Whose idea was the--”

  “Hold on, hold on! All in good time.”

  He was probably right. I felt high-strung while he was gone so soon after I moved in, and the added encounter with Sally put me on high alert.

  “So... Sally and I mutually decided to divorce and remain friends. That was about four years ago.”

  I nodded. He continued. “When she stopped answering my calls, I thought maybe she was, you know, going through something, maybe I could help her out.” His usual suave manner was slipping. I tilted my head.

  “Well, it turned out that no, I couldn't help. I was the reason for the rough patch. I guess she just couldn't handle being around or even talking to me anymore. It reminded her of the good times, and not in a good way.”

  “So, you... don't care about her at all?” I said hopefully.

  He paused again.

  I wished he wouldn't do that. It made me feel like he was taking the time to think of the least damning way to phrase things. I didn't know why I felt like that, but I did, and only rarely had my feelings steered me wrong.

  “I wouldn't say I don't care about her at all,” he looked me in the eye. “I... suppose you could say I miss her. Not romantically, but...”

  “I think I get it. Sorry if I brought up painful memories. Should we have dessert?” I said, trying to move the conversation away from Sally and onto anything else.

  Two days passed. I couldn't stop thinking about Adrian and Sally. This whole mess really hammered home how much older and more mature he was than me. The farthest I'd gone with anyone besides him was dating. He had a whole marriage come and go.

  I went up to his office one day and poked my head in when it looked like he wasn't busy.

  “Adrian, I... I don't know how to say this. I don't feel right living here anymore.”

  He looked at me with concern written on his face. “Did-- was it something I did?” He actually stuttered. This was seriously affecting him.

  “No, I just... I guess I'm having trouble adjusting, and with Sally still sort of around, I feel--”

  “Did she bother you again? I'll go see if I can have a talk with her, if you want. Get her off your back?”

  “No, I think that's the opposite of what I – Argh. Just do what you want. I'm going home.”

  “...I understand. I hope you'll still visit me from time to time, though. We're not... over?” His voice almost trembled saying the last word. I shook my head emphatically.

  “I can't just cut you off so easily. You mean so much to me, but I think I need some more time to sort things out. I rushed into this too fast.”

  “I see. Would you like me to get Jackson to fuel up the plane?”

  “No, I'll be okay driving, I think.” I didn't want to spend an awkward few hours in close proximity with him just after that conversation.

  The next day, I packed everything I had into my car--which he bought for me, my guilt reminded me--and headed out. I planned to take the journey in three segments, finding hotels along the way when I needed them.

  Chapter Ten

  I didn't get far. Not even an hour into the second day's drive, I noticed the temperature gauge climbing into the red zone. I pulled over. I was in the middle of nowh
ere; all I could see in any direction was corn. I sat in the driver's seat for a while, but then smoke started coming from under the hood so I got out and moved to safety.

  I was crying. For one thing, this was something I never expected to happen. This was a new car. Maybe I should have gone for more drives around Aspen before I tested it on I-80 for a whole day, but that didn't help now. I guessed I was just waiting for someone to come by and hoping they'd be trustworthy. I didn't have Triple A, and while the thought of running back into Adrian's arms was somewhat appealing, it also felt wrong to ask for help now after I denied the plane ride earlier.

  I started thinking maybe I was being silly. After all, he bought the car for me. It wasn't like I could actually get back home on my own without significant trouble. I was using his resources-- depending on him-- either way. Why hadn't I just taken the offer of a short plane ride back to Massachusetts? I buried my head in my knees. Regrets weren't helpful, but they were all that came to mind.

  I heard a faint sound in the distance. I looked up, thinking maybe it was a car coming, but I didn't see anything moving when I looked west. East was clear, too, which hardly mattered unless I decided to go back to Aspen. Where was the noise coming from, then?

  As it got closer and clearer, I realized that it was the sound of a helicopter. I looked up and sure enough, there was one coming right toward me. What? Was someone rescuing me? I hoped it wasn't Adrian. What if it was a traffic copter or something, and they'd seen me and taken pity? That seemed like the most reasonable explanation, although I didn't see any distinguishing marks on its hull.

  It touched down in a bare patch of dirt some yards away from me. I got up, crossed my arms against the wind, and headed over as a tall, distinguished-looking man in a suit hopped out of the open door.

  “Hello?” I shout over the slowly-decelerating rotor.

  “Hello there, young lady. Are you all right? You seemed to be in some distress.” He spoke with a slight Russian accent. He closed the distance between us and put his hands on my shoulders, checking me for injuries. I uncrossed one of my arms and waved him off.

  “No, I'm fine, I'm not hurt. My car is, though.”

  “So I see. Well, do you need any help? I'd be glad to offer my assistance,” He gestured back to the helicopter.

  “I don't know. Is it okay to leave my car here by the side of the road?” I felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, this was a strange man in strange circumstances. I didn't know if I could trust him. On the other, he looked a lot like prince coming to save me.

  “Don't you worry about that. I'll have some of my men come by and tow it. Where are you on your way to?”

  “I uh... I'm going home to Massachusetts,” I said falteringly, unsure of how much information to give him.

  “That is quite far away!” he exclaimed. “I'd be happy to give you a lift. I do enjoy combating misfortune.”

  “Thank you so much. I'm Danisha, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you, Danisha. My name is Victor. Victor Vaskov.”

  ***

  I tried to lose myself in my work, but I couldn't get Danisha off my mind. I'd been staring at a contract draft for fifteen minutes, unable to focus. All of a sudden, the phone rang, jolting me from my daze. I answered it, noting that I didn't recognize who was calling.

  “Hello, Adrian Ardic.”

  “Hello Adrian.” The voice on the other end was sickeningly familiar.

  “Victor! What's this about?” I said suspiciously. Victor hadn't called me in a long time, and it had been even longer since he called me for a good reason.

  “Oh, I just wanted to tell you a little tale,” he said calmly. I frowned and furrowed my brow, but said nothing. He chuckled a little.

  “You see, I found a lost little bird out in the world on her own, the other day. Seems her radiator sprung a little leak overnight. Luckily I was there to swoop in and save the day...”

  “What are you talking about? What have you done?”

  “I have Danisha.” I heard the smirk in his words. “I know what's been going on between you two, and I thought I'd take advantage of her little rebellion and... acquire an edge.”

  “Victor, you absolute maniac! You kidnapped her? Just to get to me? Why? What are you planning? I can have the authorities on you in--”

  “You'll do nothing of the sort,” he cut me off. “If you try to get me in trouble, you'll find I've retreated from the importing industry. I'm nowhere to be found, nowadays. And Danisha? Well, she's just as hard to find.” He laughed.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “We'll discuss that later. For now, I think I'm going to let you stew in your incompetence. Good day, Adrian.”

  “Listen here, you--” but he hung up. All I could think of was Danisha, scared and alone somewhere with that scumbag. For once, I was at a complete loss as to what to do.

  All I could do for the moment was hope she was alright.

  The Billionaire’s Dark Escape Book 2

  Bella Rayne

  Chapter One

  I woke up to the smell of salty sea air. We must be getting ready to touch down in Massachusetts. I yawned, stretched, and smiled at my rescuer. “How much longer till we land?”

  Even with the headphones, I practically had to shout to be heard over the helicopter blades beating away above us.

  “We still have a few hours before we arrive at our destination.”

  How was that possible? I could smell the ocean. Massachusetts wasn’t that big. I looked out my window to at least enjoy the view. How many people could say they flew cross-country in a helicopter? Adrian probably could, but I didn’t want to think about him right now. I tried to look at the ground below, to see if I could recognize any landmarks, but… there was no ground below.

  There was only ocean, miles and miles of ocean.

  “Is something wrong?” Victor asked.

  “Um, yes! You said you were going to bring me home, does this look like Massachusetts to you?” I asked, pointing to the endless horizon where there should be a thriving city skyline.

  “I said I would give you a lift. I never said to where.”

  “There’s a name for that. It’s called kidnapping!”

  “I am not holding you hostage. You are free to leave any time you wish, Danisha.” He smiled wickedly and gestured to a door next to me, an exit about a thousand feet above the sea.

  I reached for the door handle before remembering that even if I survived the fall, I would still have to swim for my life. In what direction? There was no way to tell. A shark would probably eat me before I made it to land. Victor--if that was even his real name--didn’t seem concerned whether I jumped or not. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one. He said we were going to land in a few hours, but I didn’t know what would happen when we did.

  I could almost hear Marisol yelling at me about accepting rides from strange men in my head, but he looked so normal. And attractive… I thought. Why couldn’t I have just called Adrian? Why did I have to be so damn proud?

  “People will be looking for me!” I threatened. My parents would notice. They would ask Adrian, and I knew he would move heaven and earth to find me. Unless Sally is already helping him forget about you… a treacherous voice in my head heckled.

  “They can look, but they won’t find you.”

  “Well, will you at least tell me where we’re going?” I asked exasperated.

  “Somewhere I know you’ll enjoy…”

  After two hours of complete silence, I finally saw a blurry speck of land below. As we dropped closer, I realized it was actually several specks of land – half a dozen islands surrounding a larger one. The ocean was a bright turquoise cord winding between them. The water was so clear I could see coral reefs beneath the surface.

  The last time I was in such a beautiful place, I had the best night of my life. Now it was probably going to be the last night of my life.

  We landed smoothly on the center island. Villain or no, th
e guy could fly a helicopter.

  As Victor helped me onto the helipad, I looked around for any sign of help. There was nothing. Thick tropical forest surrounded us on all sides.

  “So, uh, you kidnapped me to come live with you in your cave?” I asked sarcastically. I was grateful for my smooth, dark skin. It would protect me from the sun if there were no shelter.

  “Not quite, my dear.”

  “Do not call me that. I’m not your ‘dear,’ I’m your prisoner.” He may have kidnapped me, but he didn’t have to be creepy about it.

  Victor walked past me, so close that I could smell his cologne. It was heavily applied, but not unpleasant. Reaching the edge of the foliage, he pulled a few branches away, revealing a rough path. I stepped closer, curious about what was going to happen next. Victor pulled a tarp off of a Hummer parked just off the dirt road. He opened the door and bowed. “Your carriage awaits, m’lady.”

  “I thought I told you to stop that.” I said, getting into the car. Victor went around to get in the driver’s seat.

  “I was raised a gentleman.”

  “I think you need to look up the word ‘gentleman’ in the dictionary, because here in America, it means something a little different. While you’re at it, maybe you should look up ‘kidnapper,’ ‘jail time’ and ‘I’m going to kill you the first chance I get, you goddamn son-of-a-bitch.’”

  Victor sighed heavily. “I do regret the circumstances that have brought us here today, Danisha, but understand that they are necessary. As long as you do not try to harm me, you have my word that I will not harm you. Do we have an agreement?”

  Circumstances? What was he talking about? Was he crazy? Did he think I was someone else? I needed to find out. I didn’t trust him at all, but I nodded. Maybe he would let down his guard and I could escape.

  Victor seemed satisfied with my answer. He started the car and began driving down the rough, winding path.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were standing in front of something that was definitely not a cave. It was a mansion! It was so large, I didn’t know how I didn’t see it from the helicopter when we were landing. Victor pulled the Hummer into the garage. There were a couple of ATVs, a jeep and an assortment of other toys.

 

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