by Joanne Rock
“Why on earth would you take business development online?” He could afford an Ivy League education. “I thought you graduated from Michigan State?”
“I decided I want an MBA even though I majored in math. I’m taking some extra business classes to get into an MBA program.”
She processed that, more curious by the minute about this man who was full of surprises.
“I wrote a business plan for a women’s shelter in that class, didn’t I?” She’d been proud of it, and what had started out as a simple project really took on a life of its own. “The assignment to develop the plan made me see how many ideas I could bring to something like that.” Biting her lip, she hesitated for a moment before she blurted, “You must have heard I was homeless for a long time as a teenager.”
It was such a huge part of her that anyone she spent time with was bound to find out sooner or later. She’d rather know up front if he couldn’t handle that. And as much as she told herself that those who minded didn’t matter, she found herself holding her breath, hoping Vinny wouldn’t think less of her.
“I know,” he said quietly. “And it floors me to think how hard it must have been to go from that kind of struggle to where you are now.”
He looked at her with genuine admiration in his eyes. It was so sincere that she felt a distinct tug in her heart. Pride, maybe. Or tenderness for someone who could see beyond the Homeless label.
The piano player who started his first set in the front of the restaurant didn’t begin to distract her from the pull she felt toward Vincent Girard. Turning him down would have been like pushing water uphill, and she didn’t think she could muster the will.
Especially as she became aware of his knee brushing hers under the table. An electric spark jumped from that point of contact to warm her skin all over.
“Thank you.” Suddenly shy about whatever was happening between them, she folded her napkin over her clean knife, wrapping the silverware in the linen. “It wasn’t easy. And it left scars.” Her eyes went to his, gauging his reaction, but as always, he looked at her with respect. Warmth. Friendship. She took a deep breath before she continued. “But I’m really proud that I found a new life for myself.”
His hand covered hers, his thumb reaching around to the underside of her palm and stroking her there, right where he’d kissed her earlier. The effect was dizzying, making her light-headed. Partly because she liked the way it felt. But she was also a little giddy from the fact that it seemed normal. Safe and exciting at the same time.
How did he do that?
“I hope one day you’ll trust me enough to tell me how you did it.” He circled that place on her palm, as if he was enjoying the memory of the kiss as much as she was. “But for now, I’m just hoping you’ll have dinner with me again soon. Not tomorrow because of the game. But maybe when we get back to Philly the next day.”
She had twenty other Phantom players on speed dial in case she freaked out and needed a bodyguard. But she already knew she wouldn’t. Not with Vincent. The insistent thump of her heartbeat in her chest and the tingle in her skin told her that she would be looking forward to seeing Vinny alone again.
So much so that she did something completely amazing and squeezed his hand back.
“I’d really like that.”
* * *
JENNIFER SERIOUSLY HOPED the morning never arrived.
She lay tucked against Axel on top of the plush hotel bed, the white duvet soft against the outside of her thigh while Axel’s leg was warm and raspy against the inside. Her cheek fit perfectly just beneath his heart and she heard it thump steadily in one ear. The TV still glowed blue with a campy horror flick in the background, all the scariest bits removed for a more sensitive audience, apparently.
“I love watching movies with the sound off,” she said, always happy to talk about film. Besides, she wasn’t ready to talk about anything substantial with Ax yet.
The time would come soon enough when they’d have to face the ticking clock on a relationship with an end already in sight when she went back to New York.
“Why?” He brushed her hair off her temple, his big, broad palm so gentle it gave her goose bumps.
“As a filmmaker, I see the images better that way. I can think more about the visuals and the camera angles when I’m not distracted by the story.” She pointed to the screen where the antagonist—a mutant zombie killing everyone in the local high school—stood on top of a bridge and glared down at his next meal. “Like right there? They shot that from below the zombie to emphasize his power and her helplessness. And you see how big his shadow is behind him?”
“Believe me, I’ve known some people who cast a big shadow, people who have a powerful presence. I get what that means.” He brushed a kiss on the top of her hair where he lay with his head propped on a pillow. “But I wouldn’t have thought about it if you hadn’t pointed it out. You must really enjoy your job.”
“I feel fortunate to do work I love every day. It’s even better when, at the same time, I can make the art meaningful.” She traced a thick rope of scar tissue on his arm and wondered where he’d gotten it.
“I’m anxious to find out how you’re going to make the hockey documentary meaningful. But tell me more about the social media film you want to make. Why are you so gung ho about that one?”
She counted three steady beats of his heart before she answered.
“My younger sister was the victim of cyberbullying.” She still couldn’t think about those girls who’d tricked Julia without getting angry all over again. “Julia is fifteen and last fall she had a crush on an older boy. Somehow, a toxic clique of junior girls found out about it and they created a Facebook page for him. They took turns sending her messages, posing as the boy and pretending to like her.”
He kept up the even stroke along her temple, never even flinching when the zombie jumped out of the woods on the television screen. She liked that steadiness.
“Poor kid. As if growing up wasn’t tough enough.”
“She didn’t find out until weeks later when the girls printed out all Julia’s private messages to the kid and circulated them around the school. The guy was as embarrassed as she was, and he didn’t react well, which made the humiliation even tougher to bear for Julia.” He’d distanced himself from the whole thing, denouncing Julia as a band nerd, much to the delight of her tormentors.
Jennifer had tried to assure Julia that she would be playing violin at Carnegie Hall long after the girls in the evil clique had descended into desperate suburban lives, having affairs with their best friends’ husbands. But the scenario she painted had done little to cheer her sister.
“How is she doing now?” Axel shifted the blankets, making sure Jen was covered.
“I helped her switch schools.” She leaned back so she could see his face, resettling on the pillow beside him. “I had hoped she would stay and fight through it, but she just wanted to get away. She’s at a new school now and she seems to have put it behind her.”
Jennifer, on the other hand, resented the prank phone calls and ridiculing “love letters” that continued to show up in her sister’s mailbox back home.
Axel frowned. “How is she going to feel when you make your film? She won’t view that as dredging up a painful event in the past?”
“No.” Although the thought had certainly crossed Jen’s mind. “I have to think she’ll be glad to save some other girls from the heartache she’s experienced, even if the film isn’t released until next fall.”
“Have you asked her?” he pressed.
“No. But she doesn’t like to talk about that whole episode in her life. This might have more impact if I can show her some of the final edits.” When it was honed and shaped into a powerful piece of art.
“You know your sister better than I do, obviously.” He slid the remote control back onto the nightstand even though the film wasn’t done yet. “But when I made enemies at school, I didn’t appreciate anyone trying to fight my battles. Some
times the older kids in the motorcycle club would want to step in, and that always ticked me off.”
She hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Julia and wondered if it warranted a conversation with her sister before Jen jumped in with both feet. For now, however, she was already thinking about another facet of what Axel had said.
“There were other school-age kids in that group? In your gang?” She’d wondered about that biker who’d nearly run them off the road earlier. “I just assumed you were the anomaly.”
“Recruiters had a field day in the poor high schools. Kids either got into drugs or motorcycles, often both. But mostly they just craved the security of friends. The family they never had.”
“Yet, from what I’ve read about you online, you found a supportive family when you came to the States.” How had he navigated the wealthy, privileged world of the prominent Murphy clan when he’d come from such a gritty background?
“I owe my career to the Murphys.” He spoke with a reverence she hadn’t heard from him before. “I wouldn’t have been playing recreational hockey the year I met Kyle except that some kid on the team got hurt and a camp director sought me out because I was big and could skate. At that level, they didn’t ask for much more from a defenseman.”
“So you hadn’t even played hockey before then?” Her hands roamed his biceps, marveling at the years of muscle that had built there since those days. “I thought hockey was the kind of sport you were born into. Don’t a lot of kids play it by the time they’re in elementary school?”
“Yes, but you don’t have to. And I skated on the ponds in Finland where I grew up. Lots of kids do. Hockey is a backyard sport there.”
“Okay, so you got tapped by a youth coach to fill in. Then what?” The filmmaker in her needed to visualize the story.
“I played a good game defensively. But a kid on their team got pissed when I checked him into the boards. He came back with a fist that knocked out one of my teeth. That was my introduction to Kyle Murphy.”
“You’re kidding.” She’d seen Kyle play tonight. Had read about him in the days leading up to the game. He was all about precision and timing. Speed and agility. “He doesn’t strike me as the brute type.”
“Unlike me, right?” He flexed a muscle to emphasize the point and she couldn’t help but remember what it felt like to be wrapped up in all that strength.
“I just pictured you being the victor in that fight.” She molded her fingers to the bulge of his upper arm, amazed how unyielding it felt.
“All of my foster brothers are fierce competitors. They don’t look at how big the obstacle is. They just knock it down. And you know, it made me realize that some of my own teammates might have held back around me because of the—”
“Gang connection.” She didn’t doubt it for a minute. “No one wants to cross the guy whose friends carry guns.”
“Right. But Kyle didn’t know. And possibly even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared. He plays to win.” Axel released the muscle he’d been making and slipped a hand beneath the covers to skim over her bare hip. “After the game, his parents came to check on me since their kid had knocked out my tooth. They were standing there, ready to give my folks their insurance information. They were horrified to realize no one was going to take me to see a doctor.”
Any good parent would have been. She wanted to ask about his folks, but since he hadn’t offered up much beyond the fact that his stepdad took off after introducing him to the motorcycle club, she thought it would be wiser to wait for him to share what he chose.
“Did they end up taking you?” Her opinion of the wealthy, jet-set Murphy family was softening.
“Yeah. And that was cool, but the best part was talking to Kyle about hockey. He was so driven and the sport was—always has been—such a science to him. He analyzed every part of his game and found ways to improve it. Other players I’d met before him were spoiled rich kids who cared more about meeting girls and soaking their parents for a new stick.”
He was a million miles away as he told her that story and it was obvious the meeting had been monumental for him. Kyle had given him something to care about besides his gang brothers. Something to think about beyond what she guessed was an impoverished and dangerous childhood. The Murphy money had done some good there.
“So you became friends and they invited you back to the U.S.? Akseli Rankinen officially became Axel Rankin?” She had to admit that was a generous move. No doubt it had been a risk on their part if they knew anything about Axel’s background.
“Something like that,” he hedged, his fingers tightening on her waist. “It wasn’t easy to accept the invitation, knowing the Destroyers might kill me before they let me out of the group. But I chose a good time to announce my decision—right after a successful beat-down that resulted in new terrain for the club. And they decided I’d be worth more to them down the road.”
A knot tightened in her belly.
“Except now they expect their pound of flesh.” She realized how simple and superficial her worries about her sister must sound to a man who had survived the childhood Axel had.
“I’ll make sure they don’t take it.” He pulled her closer, pressing a warm kiss into her neck. “Don’t think twice about that.”
She itched to ask him more. Find out how he could fend off the group’s renewed interest in him and stay safe. But he nipped her ear and tucked her hip close to his. In theory, she didn’t appreciate how easily he could distract her. Yet this was their first night together. A stolen moment behind locked doors that she never wanted to end, even though three weeks from now she’d have no choice in the matter.
Just this once, she could forget about her social responsibility to noble causes and simply enjoy the night. Tomorrow would be time enough to find a way to make sure that old gang stayed far away from him. Even if she had to use the bright light of the media to chase them back to the other side of the globe.
9
“YOU DON’T LOOK ALL THAT surprised about my past.” Swiping the puck to Kyle, Axel tried to gauge his foster brother’s expression. He’d just spilled his guts about his years with the Destroyers, culminating in the confrontation with the biker on the way to the flight to Montreal.
After sleeping with Jennifer and realizing he needed to protect her at all costs, Ax figured the time had come to make his foster family aware of the details of his past. While he didn’t need help fighting his battles, it wouldn’t be fair to the Murphys to be targeted without any warning. When he’d alerted them recently about increasing security, he’d been purposely vague. Now he needed to reveal the truth, not just to his parents, but to his four other brothers—Ryan, Jack, Keith and Danny.
He flipped a shot into the practice net beside Kyle—the two of them were alone in a training room at the New York visiting-team facility.
“Actually, I’m not.” Kyle pulled a puck closer with his stick, setting it up for his shot at the practice net next to Axel. “You never wanted to tell us much about your background, bro, and Dad couldn’t leave it up to chance.”
“I don’t follow.” Frowning, Axel stabbed his stick into the mat and stared at his foster brother—hell, his true brother in every way that counted.
Thank God the camera guys hadn’t been trailing after either of them today.
“You know Dad.” Methodically, Kyle fired shot after shot, pulling a new puck into position between each goal. “He thinks research is the key to business success. He’s ordered preliminary studies for every property he’s ever considered buying. Do you really think he’d bring home a foreign teenager without looking into your past?”
Stunned, Axel watched as one puck after another drilled the practice net. When the last one left the goal swinging gently, he blinked away his shock.
“You knew all of it?” Axel had omitted a few of the more hellish moments, of course, figuring no one needed to know about the beat-downs he’d seen. The abused teens that showed up at the club, willing to sell their souls to
be part of a new cycle of violence. One where they used their fists.
“Yeah.” Kyle nudged Ax’s stick with his. “From the start. Before we even left Helsinki that first time, Dad knew that you’d been running with those guys. But we had a family vote and it was unanimous. You were one of us, man, even then.”
Axel couldn’t look at his brother. Not with his freaking eyes burning and his throat dry as a desert.
“What the hell is wrong with you people?” He slammed the stick on the floor. Twice, for good measure. “I could have been a total head case. A violent lowlife who carried drugs in my suitcase.”
“You didn’t look like a user. And hey, you weren’t so violent that I couldn’t handle you. Remember how I knocked your teeth out that time?”
Axel snorted a laugh.
“Jesus. It was one tooth.” He looked over at the dopey-ass, crooked-nosed brother who he loved like a son of a bitch. “I can’t believe you brought me into your freaking mansion on the Cape, knowing I was some loser gangster.”
“‘There, but by the grace of God, go I.’ I swear to you, my man, that’s what Dad said when we talked about bringing you to the States. He was a roughneck before he eloped with Mom. You know her family still doesn’t speak to him.”
Ax could imagine Robert Murphy making that decision. The guy was a self-made billionaire, turning a clam shack into a successful restaurant and a seaside inn into a hotel conglomerate. But he hadn’t started out with much of anything besides ambition and drive.
The outdated cooling system kicked on overhead, blowing a stale breeze through the workout room.
“I can’t believe you’ve known about my history this whole time.” But it would make it easier to call home and tell the Murphys the full extent of the potential new threat. “I’ve been in the U.S. for nine years.”
“And it took us the first two just to teach you enough English that we could understand you.”
