by Potter, LR
Secretly, she would be happy if he left the band, except she’d probably never see him.
“Do you want to cancel for tonight? We can always have dinner with Sean some other time.”
“No, we hardly ever get to go out. Besides, I want to show off my girlfriend to my best friend. Kind of rub his face in it that I’ve snagged such a young hottie,” he grinned.
Her heart leapt at his “girlfriend” comment. It made her feel as if she belonged to him – a part of something with him.
Running her hands up under his striped linen button-down shirt, she whispered into his neck, “Oh yes. You’re such an old, decrepit man. Don’t know how I stand to look at you,” she said as she licked up his ear.
He grabbed her and crushed her to his chest and kissed her senseless.
Murmuring against his lips, she whispered, “Take me now, I beg you.”
“Told you, you would be begging me before it was over,” he grinned. “Now, get your things and let’s go. We’ll make nice, eat quick, and then we’ll come back here and I’ll ravish you until you beg me to stop. Deal?”
She groaned her disappointment. “Deal,” she muttered.
They met Sean at a Mexican restaurant called, Taco Rios. It was loud, colorful, and had margaritas as big as your head. Jace and Tate wisely agreed to share a mango flavored one. Dinner with Sean Devlin was fun. Tate could easily see why the two would be friends. They shared a lot of the same interests and both had a strong creative side. Sean had jet-black hair and nearly black eyes. He was as nice-looking as Jace, but in a more hard-edged way. Being as he was also a doctor, Tate was surprised to see tattoos covering both of his upper arms. On one was a cobra, which seemed to wrap its body around his arm with a mammoth head and yellow fangs. On the other, he had a Harley Davidson motorcycle heading off into the sunset on old Route 66.
Pointing to his tattoo of the Harley, she asked, “Do you ride?”
“Not as often as I’d like. The only chance I ever get to ride is when I make the trek back home.”
“Ahh. Where’s home?” she asked.
“In a little town that I’m sure you’ve never heard of in Tennessee.”
“Sweetwater?”
Sean lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t know you and Jace spent so much of your time discussing little ol’ me,” he jested.
She grinned. “We don’t. I just happened to be admiring your photos on the bookcase and saw the one taken at the Lost Sea.”
“Oh yeah. My family likes to go there a lot. It’s a pretty neat place. You ever been?”
“No, never been anywhere in Tennessee. What is the Lost Sea?”
“It’s listed as the second largest underground lake in the world. I think the largest is in Africa. The Lost Sea is all part of the Craighead Caverns. If you ever get to New York and visit the American Museum of Natural History, you’ll see the bones of this magnificent Pleistocene jaguar, which is touted to be nearly 20,000 years old. It was discovered in the caverns. You should go sometime. It’s well worth the trip. “
“Did you ever take any pictures inside the caverns?” she asked.
“Tons and tons.”
“I’d like to see them sometime. It sounds like a really interesting place.”
Waggling his brows at her, he said, “Oh yes, come to my bedroom anytime and I’ll show you my etchings,” he joked.
“I think not,” Jace countered with a laugh.
“Are you allowed to swim there?”
“No. I’m not sure if I’d want to even if you could. It’s so deep, I’d be afraid of what could be lurking down there. Might be monsters and goblins, oh my,” he said with an infectious grin.
Jace brought her fingertips up to his lips and kissed them lightly as he drove through the city en route to her apartment.
“I think Sean might like you a little too much. I might need to keep my eye on you two,” he teased.
Staring at his profile under the passing lights, she smiled. “I don’t care who Sean likes, I only care who you like.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I like you,” he said, flashing her with his white-toothed smile.
Her smile faltered a little. But would you if you knew the real me?
Her smile dropped further the next day at lunchtime, when, while still at school, she received a text from him:
Have to work a couple back to back shifts for the next two days. It’ll be Thursday before I’ll get a break. Will stop by Zeal’s at the end of your shift then. Okay?
She texted back: Okay, I’ll miss you.
She exhaled heavily. She was glad she had to work or she’d go crazy without his presence. The day seemed to lose some of its luster. Well, at least she’d be able to catch up on some of the sleep she’d been missing.
She woke fifteen minutes before her shift and had to dress quickly and run down the stairs, throwing her curly hair up into an elastic band as she rushed. She must have been more tired than she realized. She reached the back door at the same time as the DJ, Nelson Gray. Zeal’s offered a live band on Friday and Saturday nights only. Nelson Gray provided the music for all other nights. He reminded Tate of an aged hippie with his long grey hair held back in a ponytail like hers. He wore round shades with black lenses inside gold frames. Tate wasn’t sure why, but he made her uncomfortable and she tried to avoid him whenever she could.
“Hey, Nelson,” she said politely.
Sucking on a toothpick, which was a constant in his mouth, he said, “My, my, my. You are looking so fine tonight, little Tater-skin.”
Tate cringed at Nelson’s nickname for her. It seemed vulgar somehow. And so the tone for her evening was set. Sadly, the best the night ever got was cringing at Tater-skin. The bar was filled with mostly young college students who only wanted to get drunk, be loud, and fight. Because of the young crowd, her tips were minimal, but her work was doubled. She ran from table to table for most of the night, not even getting a chance to help Thor behind the bar during shift. This mattered as whatever wasn’t done during shift, had to be done after.
Tate was surprised at how many people were still in the bar at Last Call on a Tuesday night. She was tired, cranky, and only wanted them gone. She went behind the bar and began washing glasses. The crowd had thinned considerably by the time she was done. Glancing at her watch, she groaned when she saw it was nearly three o’clock. She had to be up at seven for school. She began moving quickly around the bar, policing the tables and lifting the chairs up so the floors could be swept once everyone had left.
In her haste, she knocked two wine glasses off a table. The crashing of the glass onto the floor caused those left in the bar to applaud loudly. Why wouldn’t they just go home? she fumed.
She picked up the biggest pieces of broken glass and placed them on her tray along with the rest of the glasses from the table. Irritated at her own clumsiness, she made her way to the bar to drop off the glasses and collect a broom and dustpan. Lost in her musing, it took her a moment to notice the man lounging with his back leaning nonchalantly against the bar, and his ankles crossed. Her steps faltered, her breath caught in her throat, and blood began to thunder in her ears.
“Nick?” she asked in a straggled whisper.
Her hands began to tremble and the tray she held slipped from her suddenly uncoordinated fingers. The crash of the glasses on the floor brought her back to her senses. Oh, my God. It couldn’t be… not after all these years. Nick Tracey, the boy who’d taken a horrendous situation and made it worse. He was older, of course, but still had the same sandy-brown hair and cruel, brown eyes. He was casually dressed in a black polo shirt and khakis. She’d not laid eyes on him since he was sixteen, but she’d never forget his face. He smiled a cruel, knowing smile and sauntered over to her.
“Hello, Patanga… or are you still going by Tate?” he asked with mocking consideration. “Here, let me help you.”
Her hands trembled and her breathing was ragged. She batted his hands away.
“I’ve
got it,” she muttered.
Her brain couldn’t seem to kick-start into gear. Her heart pounded with the implications of Nick being here. What if Jace found out about her past before she had a chance to tell him…? And Nick would certainly tell him if given the opportunity – especially if he thought it would hurt her. Because her hands were shaking and she couldn’t regain her concentration, it wasn’t until Nick reached down with a napkin that she realized she’d cut her hand and blood was streaming onto the floor. Her stomach roiled at the sight of her blood. She flinched at his touch.
“Don’t touch me,” she said and tried to jump back, but as she was on her haunches, it only succeeded in landing her on her rump.
Thor was at her side immediately. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, glaring at Nick.
Nick raised his hands, palms up. “No problem here. I was just helping and she cut her hand. It looks pretty bad, don’t you think?”
Tate glanced down for the first time, noticing the slash, which started at pad of her forefinger and ran diagonally across her palm. Blood was gushing and streaming to the floor. Her stomach became queasy at the sight of her own blood, and she swallowed and closed her eyes briefly.
“It really does look bad, Tate. How about you let me take you to the ER?”
When she started to shake her head, Thor rose. “You’re going and that’s final. So get yourself together and I’ll get the workman’s comp forms from Zek. You need to get this taken care of. Besides, the Doc would never forgive me if I didn’t take care of you.”
As Thor rose, Nick offered casually, “I’ll be happy to take her.”
“No,” Tate said more sharply than she intended, causing both men to look at her.
“No, it’s okay. I’ve got her,” Thor answered.
As Thor moved swiftly away leaving Tate sitting on the floor, Nick came back down on his haunches. “So, a doctor, huh? Well, good for you, Tate. You’ve really hit the jackpot here, huh? Better than all those other losers you spread your legs for.”
She flinched when he reached out a hand to rub one of her blonde curls, which had escaped its band.
“So beautiful,” he muttered almost to himself.
“Have you put out for him?” He gave a harsh bark of laughter at her expression. “Well, good for him, bravo, I say. I wonder… does he know?”
She blanched at his words.
“Oh, I see,” he said with a twisted grin. “It was really good seeing you, Tate. I’ll stop by when we have more time to… chat,” he said with a menacing promise in his voice.
Thor and Zek came from the office and wrapped her hand in a bar towel before shuffling her off into Thor’s SUV. She glanced back to see Nick waggle his fingers at her from the bare parking lot. How had he found her? Had Alan told him? No, she’d bet her last dollar Alan wouldn’t have told him.
The emergency room was packed. Thor sat beside her and leaned forward with his forearms resting on his thighs.
“Thor, you don’t have to stay with me.”
Suppressing a yawn, he turned his head towards her. “I know, sweetheart.” Leaning back in his seat, he asked, “How’s Markus doing these days?”
“Toby said he was scheduled for another surgery soon,” she replied.
“It’s a shame. A man spends his life protecting his country and gets shot breaking up a bar fight – never to walk again; a real damned shame.”
“Yes, it is,” she murmured.
Thor sat with her for an hour, but it was late, and after begging him for fifteen minutes, he finally agreed to go home.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Thor asked her.
“I’m fine, the bleeding has slowed. I’ll call a taxi when I’m done. There’s no reason why both of us have to sit here all night. Please go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Well, if you’re sure…”
Left alone, Tate let out a trembling breath and let her head fall back against the wall with her eyes shut tight. The pain in her hand had nothing on the anguish in her heart. Her stomach flopped as she thought about Nick Tracey. She’d been fourteen when he’d raped her and sent out that revolting video. And she’d been branded by it as much as if he’d take a red-hot poker and carved his initials on her forehead. 666 would have been more appropriate, Tate thought.
As she’d never seen the video – had never wanted to see it – she never knew what actually happened, just what her mind had imagined. But everyone else had watched it from beginning to end. Every football player, every baseball player, guys from every group of the school had hit on her with the express purpose of doing whatever Nick had done. It had been humiliating and degrading. She moved to a different school to get away from her newfound notoriety. But it’d not taken long for the video to follow her there, too. The only thing Nick had suffered was being suspended for the rest of the school year for emailing the video, and this had further infuriated him. He blamed her for the suspension. So in retaliation, he told everyone how she’d come to live with them in the first place. How her own father had tried to sell her to the highest bidder. She hated him so much. And now he was here.
It wasn’t until she’d already been placed with several different families that Alan and Beth had seen the video and known what’d actually happened – understood what Nick had done to her. She’d been placed into more foster homes than she could remember, and, until she moved in with Toby and Markus, had not lived in the same house for longer than a matter of months. Once a new foster family got wind of her past, either the other foster kids hit on her or the school would call to complain about her alleged activities, and off she’d be.
At first, when guy after guy had hit on her, or touched her inappropriately in the school halls, or made rude comments, she’d just ignored them and bowed her head in shame. But eventually she’d decided if she was going to be branded a whore, she might as well live up to the name. She’d gone out with whoever asked and had lain beneath them as they’d pounded into her while holding her down. She’d had sex in cars, bleachers, parent’s beds, pool chaises, boats, and even once on the Ferris-Wheel. And none of it had meant anything to her. She’d closed her eyes during each time and seen Nick Tracey looming over her holding her down… and she’d cry each and every time.
So lost in her thoughts, she jumped when she felt a cool hand touch her cheek. “Tate?”
She looked into the concerned brilliant blue eyes of Dr. Jace Staton as he squatted in front of her, dressed in scrubs and a white coat. He looked so odd to her. She was used to seeing Jace the rocker, not Jace the doctor. But here he was, his hair brushed back and away from his face in a professional manner. He was clean-shaven and seemed to wear a different persona here. But he was still beautiful.
Taking a shaky breath, she wiped at the tears she’d previously been unaware of.
“Hey,” she murmured.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
His use of the endearment made her want to cry harder. Nick was going to once again destroy her life, she just knew it.
Clearing her throat, she lifted her injured hand. “I cut my hand on a piece of glass at work.”
He stared intently into her face before gently taking her hand within his.
“Let me see.” With soft fingers, he unwrapped the bar towel from her injury and looked at it thoroughly. The jagged edges had started to pucker and were vividly white compared to the intense redness surrounding it. He was so gentle and her heart seemed to stop beating. She was going to miss him so much.
“Well, I think you’ll live, but you will need stitches,” he said with a grin as he wiped a stray tear from her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You should have let me know you were here. I’d have squeezed you in,” he admonished.
He helped her stand and guided her into an exam room. After he’d pulled the curtain closed around them, he pulled her to him all too briefly to offer her comfort, and kissed her. She needed him so much and before she was ready, he set her aside and began working on her hand.
It was nearly six a.m. when she was stitched and set to go.
Glancing at his thin gold watch, Jace said, “If you can wait around for another hour, I can take you home. In my expert opinion, you need to be in bed… with constant medical supervision,” he said suggestively.
She reached up with her uninjured hand and wiped at the tiredness under his eyes.
“I’ll call a taxi. You need your rest.”
“I’ll sleep better if you are wrapped around me. What do you say?” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye.
Not knowing what the future might hold, she nodded her agreement. “I’ll be down in the cafeteria, okay?”
He pressed a hard kiss to her mouth before dashing off.
”Well, hi little princess. Your dress is so sweet. Are you here all alone?”
“Of course not. My mommy and daddy are buying me a pretzel.”
“Do you like pretzels?”
“Not as much as ice cream.”
“Would you like an ice cream?”
With her eyes dancing, she said, “Yes.”
“Well come with me and I’ll get you one. But we have to be quiet. I wouldn’t want to make your parents angry. Can you be quiet?”
“Oh yes, very quiet.”
“Okay, well let’s go then.”
The dark-haired stranger reached out a hand and the little girl in the tulip-shaped tutu placed her small hand into it. She looked up into the face of the man and realized who he was… her father.
Tate woke with a gasp and sat upright. Jace was standing in the doorway to the bedroom lounging against the doorjamb, cradling a cup of coffee between his palms, watching her as she slept. He was dressed in a pair of silky, navy-blue pajama bottoms which hung deliciously low on his hips. The chiseled outline of his stomach and torso were even more defined. Tate couldn’t believe that this beautiful man had made love to her for an hour just this morning. That he actually seemed to care about her wellbeing.
She lifted a hand to push her hair out of her face. Her injured hand protested as it throbbed along with each heartbeat. She immediately pulled it against her chest in an involuntarily protective measure.
