Running for Love (The Armstrongs Book 10)

by Jessica Gray

She changed into her running clothes and tennis shoes, actually looking forward to the upcoming exercise. After biting and clawing her way through the exercise the past few days, she’d come to realize it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought.

  Today she managed to run the entire three miles without any stopping or walking breaks. She grinned and wanted to call Rock, to tell him about her success. Rock. A glance at her watch told her he’d be meeting this actress right now. Damnit! Her face fell and the good mood vanished.

  Vivian entered the kitchen, drank two glasses of water, and then headed for the shower. She tried to stay upbeat, but her mind kept straying to Rock and what he might be doing at that moment. Would she try to kiss him again?

  Vivian missed him like crazy and the fact that he was with her, didn’t help to calm her mind. She’d wanted to appear generous and understanding, not the stereotypical jealous girlfriend. However, good intentions were easier said than done. Jealousy gnawed at her insides.

  She cooked pasta with cheese sauce and was watching the evening news when a knock sounded on her door. Rock? Vivian all but fell over her own feet in her rush to open the door.

  “Oh. You. What are you doing here?” She stared aghast at the tall dark-haired man filling the door frame.

  “That’s a nice way to greet your brother,” Chuck said with a chuckle as she stepped back and let him in.

  “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting anyone tonight. What’s up?” Vivian tried to mask her disappointment.

  “I brought by my results from checking out Rock Martens,” Chuck said, holding out an envelope.

  “So? What did you find?” Vivian rolled her eyes and then crossed her arms over her chest, daring him to come a single step closer.

  Chuck sighed and dropped the envelope on her coffee table. “Nothing. Alright? I didn’t find anything on him. He’s squeaky clean.”

  “Happy now?” Vivian teased him.

  “Hmm…not really.”

  “If you didn’t find anything, care to tell my why you look so worried?” she asked after seeing the genuine concern in his eyes.

  He sighed. “Have you seen the pictures?”

  It didn’t make any sense to deny. Probably half of the world had seen them by now. And whatever lie she came up with, Chuck would see right through her.

  “Of Rock and Carla Dawson?” When he nodded with an uncomfortable look in his eyes, she said, “Yeah, I saw them on my way home tonight.”

  “And?”

  “It’s not the way it looks.” That sounded shallow. And so wrong. “Rock told me about it. The charity foundation needs a celebrity to participate in the triathlon. Carla Dawson is just a good business move.”

  “That kiss didn’t look like business to me. He’s cheating on you.” Chuck said with the rightful anger of an older brother trying to protect his sister.

  “He isn’t. She doesn’t mean anything to him.” Ohmygod, I’m sounding like a Stepford Wife. Vivian swallowed. “Believe me, it’s nothing. Rock explained it was only for business. As soon as the triathlon is over, he won’t see her again.”

  “Don’t be gullible, sis,” Chuck said.

  “I’m not. And besides, it’s none of your business,” she said, glaring him into silence.

  “Hey Viv, it’s just, I don’t want you to get hurt,” he stuttered, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arm around her. “Promise, you’ll be careful?”

  “I will. Thanks Chuck.” As much as she hated his irritating way of butting into her personal life, she was thankful for the way all of her brothers looked out for her. A tiny, smug grin appeared on her lips at the vision of her brother challenging Rock to a duel. “I love you, bro, but I’m a big girl.”

  He grinned at her and started talking about Linda and how excited she’d been after coming home from the visit of the re-hab construction site. When he left half an hour later, Vivian leaned against the door, hoping she was right and Rock deserved her trust.

  Chapter 22

  Rock entered the trendy nightclub where he was supposed to meet Carla Dawson. It was early in the evening and the club was half-filled with the after work crowd. The masses of partygoers would arrive later.

  A scantily clad waitress led him to the private booth, where Carla already waited for him. She was so busy giving autographs and flirting with her fans that she didn’t notice him at first. She looks tired.

  “Hello, Carla.” Rock greeted her as he approached the booth and slid in beside her. Carla pouted because he didn’t greet her with a kiss, but Rock ignored that fact and dove right into business.

  “I assume you’ve seen the details of contract, Carla. You’ll be announced as the special guest of the triathlon and your image will become the face of the event for this year.”

  “Whatever,” she agreed with a wave of her long fingernails. “The only reason I’m doing this is because my agent thinks I need to clean up my image.”

  He’d hoped that she honestly wanted to change her ways, but apparently it was all for show. He didn’t need someone like her to represent the foundation. Even if nobody found out, it felt so wrong – almost as wrong as going out with her. He knew his next words would sound harsh, but maybe tough love was what this young woman needed to find her way.

  Rock leveled her with a stare. “Your image is a product of your own stupidity.”

  “There isn’t anything wrong with what I did,” she said, glaring at him. “And don’t you tell me what to do!”

  Rock suppressed a grin, as the image of Vivian saying those same words flashed through his mind. He seemed to have a penchant for telling people what to do. It had become worse after Tristan’s death. He vowed to be more sensitive.

  “Let’s not make a scene here,” he said, “I’m just trying to help.”

  “I wish people would stop trying to help and let me live my own life,” she murmured and suddenly Rock saw the insecure young girl beneath the glamorous shell of the famous actress. It tugged at his heartstrings, but he also acknowledged that he wasn’t the person who could make her realize that she was on the wrong path.

  He also noticed the slight tremble in her hands and felt sorry for upsetting her. Carla Dawson clearly wasn’t the strong and self-reliant person she presented to the world. Something about her was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He put on a good face for their audience, while discussing the details of her participation in the triathlon.

  “My agent said you’ve run a triathlon before?” Rock asked her.

  Carla’s eyes lit up. “Yes, before I had my breakdown. I actually was in a pretty good shape and finished the Chicago triathlon in sub-three-hours.”

  Rock raised his brows. Sub three hours was a great time for a fit person, while professionals like him needed less than two hours.

  “I love running,” she continued. “It takes me away from everything, clears my head, lets me leave the problems behind. The part I like least is the biking.”

  “That’s actually my least favorite part, too,” Rock admitted. He actually started to like her a tiny bit, maybe not all was lost and with a slight change of attitude, she’d become a great figurehead for the race.

  Carla’s eyes suddenly darted around nervously and the trembling in her hand intensified.

  What’s wrong with her? Is she afraid of someone? “Are you okay?” Rock asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just, I have a bad headache. The music…” she dropped five white pills out of a bottle into her hand and tossed them back with a big gulp of the wine from her glass.

  “What did you just take?” He demanded to know, leaning forward to scrutinize her face.

  “Aspirin. Told you, I have a bad headache,” Carla said, brushing him off and leaning back to close her eyes. The trembling subsided and when she opened her eyes again, she was back to her former self.

  “Don’t lie to me. What did you just take? No one takes five aspirin at a time.”

  Carla eyed him and cast her eyes away, but he slapped hi
s hand down on the table top between them and bit out the question again. “What. Did. You. Just. Take.”

  “Easy, there pops. I took a couple of pills. No biggie.” Her smile was as dazzling as on her latest movie poster. The Carla Dawson everyone knew.

  “It is a biggie, now tell me what they were, or…” Rock pressed through gritted teeth. He had zero tolerance for drug abusers or doping athletes.

  “Or what?” Carla challenged him.

  Rock leaned so close he could see the carefully covered dark rings around her eyes. “Or I search through that purse you’re clutching to your chest and find out on my own.”

  Carla gripped her purse tighter and then seemed to come to a decision. She sat back and said, “Just painkillers mixed with some meth.”

  “As in methamphetamine?” Rock swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair. He’d seen that infernal stuff ruin more than one life.

  “Yes, methamphetamine. What else is there?”

  “Nothing! There’s fucking nothing and that’s what you’re supposed to be taking. Nothing!”

  “Come on, you sound like the people at rehab. You should try that stuff, it’s awesome. Keeps you on your toes.” Carla actually seemed to believe the bullshit coming out of her own mouth.

  Rock excused himself for a moment and went outside to dial Tommy’s number.

  “How’s the date going?” Tommy asked as soon as he answered the phone.

  “Bad. Really Bad.” Rock recounted what had happened and then said, “We’re raising funds for a rehab center for amputees. How can we have someone with an active drug problem acting as the publicity face of the campaign?”

  “Com’on. Are you sure? She just came out of withdrawal. It probably was aspirin.” Tommy tried to downplay the incident. “Listen, we’ll keep it quiet. Nobody needs to know what’s going on. As long as she runs that race, everything’s fine.”

  Rock fought a hard battle with himself, but in the end he agreed and hung up. Then he stared at the phone, hating himself for the fact that he’d caved in. Again. What kind of man am I? If I condone this, I’m actually no better than she is.

  His steps grew heavy as he returned to their booth, where a dazzling Carla was once again beleaguered by, mostly male, fans. The moment he arrived, she turned her entire attention on him.

  “Rock, darling, can I help you?” she asked and even stood to help him stash his crutches.

  “Stop it!” he hissed at her, not wanting to cause a scene with so many eyes on them. “My ankle is killing me. Do you mind if we leave?” he asked in a loud voice and smiled at her.

  Carla’s response was to hug him, which almost threw him off balance. The sooner he could return to Vivian, the better. He and Carla stepped outside the nightclub and were surrounded by paparazzi. Rock groaned, surely, Tommy or her agent had tipped them off.

  They asked about her running the charity triathlon and he dutifully answered all their questions about their business partnership.

  “Are you two more than business partners?” a blonde reporter asked and the question sent him off-kilter.

  “Rock is the most wonderful man I’ve ever met,” Carla answered in his place and looked up at him with her best lovesick glance. Then she snuggled against his chest with a bright smile.

  “Is it true Mr. Martens? Since when are you two a couple?” The questions lashed down on him and all he could do was grit his teeth to keep from screaming the truth.

  “No comment,” he finally managed to clip out.

  When he’d seen Carla off, he hobbled to his car, slipped inside and dropped his head onto the steering wheel, thankful for the darkened windows that wouldn’t allow anyone to peek inside.

  God, Vivian…I’m so sorry. You deserve better than me. He had the sudden urge to hear her voice, just to make sure she was still there, and dialed her number, but the call went straight to voicemail. She’s probably in bed already, after I kept her up most of the night before. An unfamiliar longing occupied his heart. It was much more than simple desire, but he couldn’t quite define what it was.

  He typed a quick message to her and then drove home.

  Chapter 23

  Vivian woke up in the morning and automatically reached for her phone. Rock’s message was the first thing she saw.

  Beautiful lady. Can’t wait to see you again. Call me first thing in the morning. I need to hear your voice. Rock

  She read it twice, and a huge grin spread from ear to ear. Her fingers itched to call him back, but given the late hour he’d sent the text, he might still be asleep. She opted to text.

  Just woke up. What about you? Longing to be in your arms again. See you later?

  No sooner than she’d sent the text, her phone rang and she answered it. “Hey!”

  “Hey, yourself. You’re sounding awful cheery this morning,” Gwen’s voice said.

  “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Vivian rolled onto her back.

  “That someone wouldn’t be Rock Martens, would it?”

  “Exactly him.” Vivian tried her best to keep the drool out of her voice.

  “He’s not with you, is he?” Gwen insisted.

  “No, but he texted me. So sweet. I’m afraid I’m falling in love with him,” Vivian gushed.

  “About that. I don’t mean to stick my nose into your business,” Gwen hemmed and hawed before she spit out the words, “Turn on your television right now. Channel 11.”

  “Why?” Vivian asked, reaching for the television remote and turning it on. She selected the proper channel and then had her answer. All of the happy feelings disappeared in a heartbeat as she watched with rising anger how Carla Dawson clung to Rock’s chest and beamed for the cameras.

  “I’m so happy to run the triathlon for Rock’s foundation. It’s a great way to give back to the community…” Most of her speech was droned out by the swoosh in Vivian’s ears.

  “Take your hands off my man,” she shouted at the TV.

  The camera focused on their upper bodies and Vivian wanted to wipe the disgusting smile from Carla Dawson’s face. Rock looked slightly uncomfortable with the situation, but instead of peeling her hands of his chest, he stood there doing nothing.

  When the reporter asked whether they were a couple, his only comment was “No comment.”

  Vivian switched off the TV and threw the remote control across her bedroom. Everyone knew what “no comment” meant. How can he do this to me? How can he humiliate me like this?

  “…you still there?” Gwen’s voice came through the phone. Vivian watched that thing in her hand with disdain, having totally forgotten about her friend.

  “Yes. Can’t talk now. Have to go.” She didn’t wait for an answer and disconnected the call. Then she took a long and hot shower.

  But today the shower didn’t relax or soothe her. On the contrary, the hot water stirred the boiling jealousy in her body and as the steam condensed on the mirror, her anger thickened.

  Before she could think twice about it, she texted Rock a scathing message and then turned the power off. She tossed the phone onto the couch, unwilling to ever talk to him again – or to the rest of the world. I should have listened to Chuck.

  She got ready for work and for once, she was happy to be in the courthouse, away from all outside phones and other forms of communication. Nobody could disturb her in here.

  Chapter 24

  Misery settled in Rock’s chest after reading Vivian’s text sending him to rot in hell. And he had no idea why. Actually he had an idea, but she’d known that he would go out with Carla Dawson and nothing had happened, right?

  He’d carefully avoided giving the actress a chance to kiss him again. Why then was he swept up in guilt? He moped around in bed, feeling sorry for himself. He hated Carla, her agent, the reporters, Tommy, but most of all he hated himself. He could point all his fingers at the aforementioned players but he’d still have one pointing back at himself. Any woman who valued herself, like Viv did, would have kicked him to the curb
. Rightfully so.

  Vivian’s scathing message shattered his heart into a million pieces and he cursed. After putting on jeans and a shirt, he grabbed his keys and drove off. For an hour or two he just drove around, his mind racing in circles.

  The guilt became overwhelming. It had been the main emotion he’d carried around with him for years like a grindstone around his neck. Without realizing it, he steered his car to the cemetery, where his best friend Tristan was buried. Usually he avoided coming here, because of the overwhelming grief gripping his soul. But today, a magnetic force pulled him toward Tristan’s grave.

  The cemetery was almost empty, dark clouds hanging in the sky and threatening a summer rain. Rock didn’t care. He walked to Tristan’s tombstone, and sat down on the green grass, thinking about everything that had happened. A lone tear rolled down his cheek.

  “Man, I wish you were here right now. My life is crap and guilt’s eating me up, but then I met this girl. Vivian. She’s special. You’d like her.” He continued to tell his dead friend the entire story until the bitter ending. “And now she hates me for being a spineless cheating jerk. I ruined it…again.”

  Then Rock sat in silence, for a long time, watching the clouds roll by overhead. The wind whipped through the trees, making eerie sounds. Rock had lost the sense for time and space, when he heard a voice.

  “Man. It’s time to move on.”

  Rock glanced up and around, but he couldn’t see anyone around. Any remaining people had fled the cemetery to seek shelter in their cars and houses from the upcoming thunderstorm.

  “I’ll never forget you, dude. But maybe you’re right and it’s time I let you go,” Rock murmured. The acknowledgement brought a sense of peace into his tormented soul. “You know what? I’m still angry with you. How could kill yourself and leave me hanging? How could you? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you.”

  Memories threatened to swallow Rock, but he was beyond fighting and let them roll over his body until finally tear after tear came rolling down his cheeks. Tears he’d swallowed back for too many years.