Betting Bad

by Cathryn Fox

  Sick deep in my heart, I stand there completely flabbergasted, my blood pounding in my ears. A choked cry escapes my lips.

  Lucas’ brow tightens. “I turned myself in, and made a deal. The Phantoms were arrested.”

  A tightness grips my chest, and I fight to catch my breath, the knot in my stomach growing tighter and tighter.” “I can’t…I don’t even know…”

  “There’s more, Sara,” he says. “Nine years ago I was the one running the guns. It was a one-time deal for a shit load of money. But Tyler did it for me. He was scared I’d get myself killed, and he was so fucking angry with me, I couldn’t stop him. He put the guns in his car, and…”

  The world goes woozy around me, and I grab hold of the stop sign beside me and struggle to breathe.

  A big ugly cry wells up inside me and I shake my head violently. “Why…why didn’t he ever tell me any of this?”

  “That’s something you’ll have to ask him. But I guess he figured the reason didn’t matter. He chose to do the job. I tried to fight him on that, but he did it to protect me.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “He’s fucking gone, Sara. Gone. I have no idea how to find him. He was so angry with me. I’d only ever seen him like that once before, and look how that ended. He looked like he wanted to murder someone. I broke his fucking heart, Sara.”

  Me, too.

  I went to his mother’s, told her I never wanted to see him again.

  “I trusted my head, not my heart,” I whisper, Aunt Sandra’s words coming back to haunt me.

  Ty committed a crime, but he was protecting those he loved. In his head he thought the reason didn’t matter, but it did. Now he’s gone.

  “He said goodbye to Mom and Gracie,” Lucas says, real panic in his voice. “I’m afraid we’ll never see him again. I’m afraid for him, afraid of what he might do.”

  I open my mouth but no words come. Just then, Kaitlyn pulls up. She hops from the car and when she sees my face she rushes to me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything.”

  21

  Tyler

  I take a long swig from my beer bottle and glance around the room, cataloging Justin’s favorite pub as he racks the balls and takes a shot. Justin had been good enough to let me stay with him this last week, but he’s going through so much shit himself as he tries to integrate back into society, he doesn’t need my sorry ass around. I need to find work and figure my life out now that it’s been totally fucked over. Again.

  Although, it could have been a hell of a lot worse had the cops not arrived when they did and taken the Phantoms into custody. The last thing I wanted was to drag the brotherhood into my problems, but no way were they going to allow me to face off against those ruthless bastards alone. In the end it worked out for the best, I suppose. My stupid fucking kid brother is facing a lesser charge, and will likely only get house arrest or community service, and my family is safer without me around.

  “Are you going to stand there and fucking mope all night or are you going to take a shot?” Justin asks.

  I set my beer down and bend over the table. “I’m not fucking moping,” I say as I take the shot and sink my ball.

  “Yeah, could have fooled me.”

  I line up the next ball. “Want to take this outside?” I say. Justin knows I’m not serious—a fight will land us both behind bars—but he also knows I’ve been itching to punch someone or something, since I’d been unable to take my frustration out on one of the Phantoms.

  “I wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours,” he counters, laughing.

  I touch my scar, and glance at my friend. “It’s already messed up.”

  I shoot again, but miss the pocket. Justin chalks his cue and slowly walks around the table. “If I were you, I’d put her over your shoulder caveman-style, and take her somewhere where you can tie her up and keep her there until she believes you.”

  I exhale slowly. Yeah, I can’t hide anything from Justin. He knows the shitstorm going on inside of me, every bit as much as I know what’s going on inside of him. And yeah, I’ve been fucking moping.

  “I don’t think your caveman tactics will work with Sara.”

  Christian comes up to us, a beer dangling from his hand. He slaps a five-dollar bill onto the table. “I play the winner,” he says, then looks at me. “What’s up your ass?”

  “Fuck you two,” I grumble and finish my beer. I catch the attention of the waitress and gesture for another round.

  “It’s like this. You have two choices. Do nothing and forget about her once and for all. Or go find her and make this shit right,” Justin says.

  Easier said than done.

  “She said she never wanted to see me again,” I respond. While that might be true, it’s not the real reason I left town. She’s a good girl who doesn’t need my kind of trouble. She’s safer this way. Everyone I care about is.

  “When have you ever not fought for what you wanted, Tyler?” Justin asks, his brow pulled together tight.

  “Never.”

  “Then why are you starting now?”

  “Because she’s better off without me in her life,” I blurt out.

  “Yeah, I hear ya,” Christian says with an understanding nod. He’s clearly going through his own shit, too. “She should be with a guy who’d treat her right. A guy who’d keep her safe.”

  I’m that fucking guy.

  “She’s obviously not worth the trouble,” Ryder pipes in, joining us.

  I’m practically snarling, frothing at the mouth when I say, “You’re fucking wrong.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Justin says with a slap to my shoulder. “Look, no guy is going to love her the way you do. Your troubles are behind you. You need to go make this right, buddy. Go find her, get the fuck out of Dodge like you guys talked about nine years ago. Don’t waste this second chance. After everything you’ve done, you deserve this.”

  Maybe Justin is right. Maybe I do deserve this, but what if trouble finds me again and Sara gets hurt? “I….fuck.”

  The waitress comes with another round and when I glance up to see her, see who’s standing in the doorway, glancing around the room like a deer in the headlights, my heart jumps into my throat.

  “No. Fucking. Way.”

  Our eyes lock, and she gives me a wobbly smile. I blink, sure I’m hallucinating, but when I open my eyes again, and find Sara still standing in the open door, I nearly fucking sob.

  I suck in a fast breath, shove my cue into Ryder’s hands and push through the crowd, until I’m standing inches from the girl I love more than life itself.

  “Sara,” I say, sounding as breathless as I feel. Is she here for me, us? Do I dare hope? Then again, how can we be together, when I’m trouble? “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” I rake my hands through my hair, trying to make sense of this.

  “Justin’s return address was on the box of clothes he sent you,” she says. “I went to the address and was told I could probably find him here.”

  “You found him,” I say and point to the pool table.

  “It’s not him I’m looking for. It’s you, because you left with something of mine.”

  My heart sinks. She’s not here to give me a second chance. She’s here to collect something. I wrack my brain and give a hard shake of my head. I left home with nothing but the clothes on my back. “Sara—”

  She puts trembling fingers to my lips to stop me, and the softness in her touch fills me with so many emotions, ranging from rage that someone could have hurt her, to all the love rattling around my ribcage like a damn pinball.

  “You left with my heart, Tyler,” she says as tears spill down her face.

  “Sara,” I say again, and wonder if it sounds as tinny to her as it does to me.

  “I thought I could get you out of my system, Tyler, but I—”

  “I can’t do that again, Sara. I can’t. You know I’d never say no to you, but if we start things up again, it’ll fuckin
g kill me when you’re done.”

  “I don’t want to be done.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, my heart crashing so hard, I’m sure she can hear it over the music. “What are you saying?”

  “I want you, Tyler. I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

  “Sara…we can’t.”

  “Lucas told me everything,” she says, and for a moment my heart stops beating.

  “Everything?”

  Tears fill her eyes again, and I’m about to pull her to me when she starts sobbing hard. She lifts her hands, and pounds on my chest. “Tyler…” she cries. “So many lost years. I understand why you did what you did, but our dreams, our hopes…we lost so much.”

  I hold my breath and let her beat on me for a minute. When her frustrated pounding slows, I capture her wrists in my hands. “I’m sorry, Sara,” I say, the pain in my chest intensifying, and it’s not from her pounding.

  “No, Tyler. I’m the one who’s sorry,” she whispers, her voice catching in her throat. “You are the best guy I know, and I never for one second should I have questioned that.”

  “I never meant to hurt you, ever. All I ever wanted to do was love you.”

  “Then love me, Tyler, please. Love me hard and fierce. We have so many years to make up for.” She goes up on her toes, and unable to help myself, I press my lips to hers, for a breath-robbing kiss that leaves us both shaking when I break it. I look at the woman I love, have always loved, and then harden myself.

  “Sara, I can’t.”

  Her look is stricken, her big eyes, wide and stark against her white skin. “Don’t, Tyler, don’t do this to us.”

  She pounds on my chest again, her tears falling hard.

  “I can’t put your life in danger. I can’t do that.”

  “Tyler, don’t you get it? As long as I’m with you, no one will ever hurt me.”

  “Is this asshole bothering you?” some mouth-breathing douchebag asks. My gaze flies to the man standing over Sara. I take in his cut, his gang colors, and rage builds inside me. He puts a beefy hand on Sara’s body, and takes a menacing step toward me. In that instant, the world around me fades and all I see is red. Motherfucker is messing with the wrong guy on the wrong day. Nobody touches Sara and gets away with it. Nobody. Years of pent up fury boil my blood and before I can stop myself, I pull my fist back.

  Epilogue

  Tyler

  Four years later:

  * * *

  Wailing sounds come from down the hall, and I blink in the black of the night, trying to get my bearings and figure out where I am and what the hell is going on. I wipe my damp hair from my forehead and stand, wobbly on my bare feet, the floor cool beneath me as I fumble around in the dark.

  With my lids only half open, I walk toward the sound and grope the air until I feel the solid bars before me. I grip them tight, the keening cry growing louder and louder, piercing the quiet and rousing me even more.

  I blink again, almost fully awake now, as I tug on the bars. They release with a soft click and I lower them. “Shh, little one,” I whisper in a soothing voice, and I reach into the crib and pull little Avery from her blankets. “Are you hungry again already?”

  Avery screams harder, and a night-light flicks on in the hall, filling the room with a soft golden glow. Sara quietly enters the room and puts her hand on my back, touching me lovingly as I cradle little Avery, holding her to my bare chest...my heart.

  “You didn’t need to get up,” I whisper and turn to give Sara a light kiss. I catch her smile in the light pouring in from the hallway.

  She stifles a yawn. “It’s my turn. You got up last night, remember?”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Her warm sleepy smile draws my attention, her mouth begging to be claimed by me a second time tonight. “I know, which is why I love you,” she says.

  I never get tired of hearing her say that. “I love you too.” I lean into her, breathe in her vanilla scent, let it swirl through my blood and fill me with hunger.

  “I know,” she says, warmth in her eyes as she brushes Avery’s soft cheek. “I think little miss is going through a growth spurt.”

  I rock Avery, and Sara’s hairs tickle my face as she leans forward and kisses our ten-month-old daughter. “Do you want me to heat a bottle, or do you want to feed her?” I ask.

  “I’ll feed her.”

  I hand Avery over, and my heart fills with love as Sara drops into her nursing chair. Avery’s cries are hushed as Sara releases the flap on her nursing bra and feeds our sweet baby girl. I drop down onto the floor in front of them, and yawn as I hug Sara’s legs.

  “Why don’t you go back to sleep,” Sara says. “You have to get up early for the clinics.”

  “Sleep is overrated,” I say, not wanting to miss a moment of my wife and our beautiful baby together like this. As I take them in, absorb the love in the room, I can’t help but think I’ve used my second chance to the fullest. It could have gone down a whole lot worse, had Justin not stepped in and stopped me from pummeling that mouth-breather who dared to touch Sara.

  In the end, Sara was right when she said as long as she was with me, nothing or no one would ever hurt her. The Phantoms aren’t part of my world anymore, and with Sara in my life permanently, as well as our beautiful daughter, all living in late Aunt Sandra’s house in Indiana, the pent up anger and frustration had dissipated, and the nightmares had subsided.

  A noise in the hall gains my attention and I turn to see Mom and Gracie enter the nursery. “What are you two doing up?” I ask.

  “We heard Avery.” Mom sits in the rocking chair next to Sara and my heart swells as she smiles at her daughter-in-law, and first grandchild.

  “You didn’t have to get up,” I say.

  She waves her hand at me. “Oh, hush. When my grandbaby cries, I get up.”

  Sara chuckles, and Gracie comes and sits next to me on the floor. Just then Alex and Lucas come stumbling in. Any second now I expect Sara’s parents to come barreling in through the front door, to see what the ruckus in the Barrett household is all about. They left Aunt Sandra’s house to Sara, and moved into a smaller place less than a mile down the road. I can’t help but think how lucky we are to be surrounded by such a loving family.

  “What’s going on?” Alex asks as he rubs his eyes. Alex had recently graduated from Penn State after getting his degree in education. He’s staying with us until he starts his new job at the local high school next week. Who would have thought my kid brother would grow up to actually follow in Coach Ramsey’s footsteps. He’s going to be a fine coach and teacher, and when he’s not on the field or in the classroom, he helps me out with the clinics at the sports store Sara and I built from the ground up. Mom works there too, even though she’s past retirement, but she enjoys getting out of the house, and spending time with me. Honest to God, it’s hard to believe that Sara and I have checked so much off our bucket lists, our education included.

  I shake my head. “What are you two doing up?”

  “We heard the crying and then you all talking,” Lucas answers as he drops down onto the floor next to Gracie. He throws his arm around her shoulder and she leans into him. During their free time, Gracie and Lucas both help out at the store, too. When Gracie isn’t working with me, she’s another page deep into her latest novel. I’ve been working closely with her on it, considering it’s all about a golden boy who went to prison, and how he got back on his feet again. I think it’s going to be a bestseller. Yeah, I’m proud as fuck of her.

  And then there’s Lucas. He ended up with house arrest for a few months. Since he moved in with us after we took over Sandra’s old homestead, he’s been able to save some money, and is in the process of opening his own garage bay nearby. We left our troubles behind us, in the past where they belong, and Lucas and I are good.

  If I could change the past, would I? Probably not. Yeah, Sara and I had to climb through hell before we found our footing, but that footing is rock solid and unbreaka
ble. If I had done anything differently maybe we wouldn’t all be where we are today.

  I scan the room. God, we’ve all come so far. The truth is we didn’t plan for things to turn out this way, but sometimes plans change. Sara and I are stronger now, and while we never did get back what we had, what we have now feels more real, sharp, and far deeper and more intimate than anything we’d ever had. Simply put…everything is better.

  Everything is exactly as it should be.

  Afterword

  Thank You!

  * * *

  Thank you so much for reading Betting Bad, book one in my Reform series. I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I loved writing it. Please read on for an excerpt of The Playmaker.

  * * *

  Interested in leaving a review? Please do! Reviews help readers connect with books that work for them. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.

  * * *

  Happy Reading,

  Cathryn

  The Playmaker

  Fat drops of spring rain pummel my head, wilting my curls as I dart through Seattle’s busy traffic to the café on the other side of the street. My best friend, Jess, is inside waiting for me, undoubtedly hyped up on her third latté by now.

  I step over a pothole and search for an opening in the traffic. I hate being late, I really do. I totally value other people’s time, but when the email came through from my editor, asking me to write a hot hockey series, my priorities took a curve. I’ve worked with Tara for a couple years now, and I know her like—pardon the pun—a well-worn book. To her, hesitation equals disinterest. She’s a mover, a tree-shaker, and it wouldn’t have taken long for her to offer the opportunity to another author. She wanted a quick reply and I had to give it to her.