Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by Irons, Aubrey

  He breathes.

  “I’m going to let you go,” I say steadily.

  “Goddamn right you are.”

  “Declan.”

  He glares at me.

  “Fine.”

  I slowly drop my hands from his shoulders, my stance still ready to pounce.

  “What’s this about, Dec.”

  He laughs bitterly. “Jesus Christ kid, you want nothing to do with me and now you’re interested. Shit, if you’re feeling that curious, I’ve still got that job I could tell you about.”

  “You’re still stuck on that, huh?”

  His lip curls again. “Yeah, kid, I’m still stuck on the twenty million that’ll be sitting in the strong box in the North Shore Shipping manager’s office after their big fundraising hoopla.”

  I stare at him. “You’re talking about the ‘Carry On’ fundraiser.”

  He nods, and I cringe.

  “The fundraiser for fallen firefighters?” I shake my head, staring at him with a new level of disgust. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Declan.”

  “Oh fuck off, kid. It’s twenty mil, and those firefighters have fucking life insurance and union pensions. The fuck do they need that kind of money for?”

  “They don’t, Declan. It’s for their families you asshole.”

  He shrugs. “Not my fucking problem. All work has risk. They knew theirs, I know mine.” He jabs a finger at my chest. “Don’t pretend that fucking the Reverend’s daughter again suddenly gave you a fucking conscious.”

  I growl low in my throat, but he wags a finger at me. “Your cut would be five million, kid. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.”

  “I told you, I’m not interested.”

  “Jesus Christ, what fuckin happened to you, kid.”

  Declan pushes me way as he stumbles for the bar cart in the corner of the room and grabs a bottle of Jameson.

  I frown as he pours himself a glass.

  “Dec-”

  “Fuck off, you’re not my Ma.”

  There’s a sniffling sound behind me, and I turn back to Stephanie, still cowering in the corner of the room.

  “Steph, maybe you should go.”

  She blinks, like she’s not really hearing me. Declan pokes me in the back with a boney finger.

  “I need you for this job, kid.”

  “I’m not doing it. Not in a million fucking years, Dec.”

  He sways on his feet, whiskey sloshing. “It’s too much to walk away from, and you damn well know it.”

  “Dec, I can only say no so many fucking times.”

  He looks at me silently, nodding.

  “Alright,” he mutters, his eyes narrowing at me. “Fine, you want to play that game?”

  “I don’t want to play games, Declan, I just-”

  “You’re doing it.”

  I sigh. “I don’t think you’re hearing me-”

  “Did you know car accidents are the number four killer in this country? Number four, kid.” He shakes his head as he takes a drink. “You know, it’d be a damn shame if that family had another crash disrupt their lives.”

  I go still.

  “Accidents happen all the time, kid.” He chuckles, sipping his whiskey. “But shit, you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  “You wouldn’t,” I growl, my muscles tightening and my hands clenching into solid fists.

  “Wouldn’t I?” He grins. “It’s twenty mil, you prick. There ain’t a whole lot I wouldn’t do for that.”

  I bare my teeth as I take a step towards him, fists raised. “You don’t go near that family,” I growl.

  “And I won’t.” He shrugs. “If you do the job.”

  “I could kill you right here instead.”

  He laughs. “No, you couldn’t.” He chuckles through another drink. “Trust me, kid, I know killers, and you ain’t one.”

  “I’m warning you, Dec.” I grab his shirt, my fists raise.

  He grins.

  “You gonna hit me, kid? Go ahead, hit me.”

  I can feel the punch. I can imagine my fist knocking that smug, sleepy grin off his face right here in his own house.

  But I don’t.

  He shrugs, like he knew I wouldn’t.

  “Or don’t, your call. But I swear to God you’ll do this job, or my threat holds.”

  He knocks my hand from his shirt and straightens it before stumbling into the other room with his drink.

  I turn back to Steph, who’s on her feet now in the far corner of the room staring at me with big, wide, tear-stained eyes.

  “We should go.”

  She blinks. “Go?”

  I step across the room and take her arm. “Yes, go. I’m taking you out of here, Steph.”

  She frowns. “But I live here, Silas.”

  I stare at her. “Stephanie, he hit you.”

  “I- I know,” she says quietly.

  She looks down at her feet, picking at her cuticles.

  “He’s just drunk, Silas. He didn’t mean nothing.”

  I blink. “Stephanie-”

  “Thank you, Silas.” She looks up, smiling crookedly. “For coming over, I mean.”

  She reaches out and squeezes my arm. “You’re one of the good ones, you know.”

  “Steph, I can’t just leave you-”

  “I’m fine, Silas.” She smiles again, blinking as she’s reaches up and brushes a tear from her eyes. “I’m really fine.”

  I’m starting the truck up in the driveway when Declan comes stumbling out of his house. He leans against the door of my truck, pointing at me through the open window.

  “Family first, kid. I need you for this job, and you will fucking do it.”

  “The hell I am.” I start to put the truck into reverse, but he grabs my shirt.

  “Tell me I won’t’ do it, kid,” he growls, his whiskey breath sour as he leers close to me.

  “Tell me I won’t and see how wrong you are.” His brows knit. “Five million, kid. One last job. Shit, you don’t even have to tell her.”

  His lips curl into that evil smile.

  “Think about it. You could start that little side business I know you’ve been sniffing around about, and you could give that Hammond girl everything she’s always wanted. You could have it all, Silas - live the fucking dream. And all it takes is one easy job. Shit, we’re not even bringing guns on it, it’s that easy.”

  I stare straight ahead, pretending like I’m ignoring him.

  But I’m not.

  Slowly, my hand moves the gearshift into park before I even know what I’m doing.

  I grew up taking what I wanted, and what I needed. Consequences and morals be damned, the lure of the take that high you get from the rush of it was like a drug to me even back then. And now? Now it’s like I’ve gone straight and someone’s offering me one last hit. I’m sober, and someone’s dragging the edge of a needle across my skin, or letting me smell the sweet acrid aroma of alcohol.

  I’m a junky, and this is what falling off that horse feels like.

  I suck in a breath of air, staring straight ahead, but unable to ignore the devil on my shoulder - Declan, offering me the promise of finally going legit in this world. He’s offering me the life I want for one last sliver of my soul.

  And it’s getting harder to say no.

  But then all of a sudden, the dream and the fantasy of that life within my grasp goes drifting away like harbor mist, replaced by something new. Something better.

  Ivy.

  The fuck am I thinking?

  I have the life I want, or at least, I’m on the path to get that life. And this time, I’m doing it honestly. I’m doing it like a man.

  And I’ll be damned if I fuck that up again. Ever.

  I tighten my hands on the wheel as I turn to my uncle.

  “I’m going to say this one last time, Declan.” I narrow my eyes at him. “The answer is no. And I swear to God, if you try and hurt Ivy, or go anywhere fucking near her, I will bury you in the ground.”

/>   Declan just grins.

  “Oh, her?” He shakes his head, swirling the whiskey around his glass. “Shit, kid, you think I’d ever hurt poor little Ivy Hammond? What kind of monster do you think I am?”

  I’m opening my mouth to tell him exactly what kind of monster I think he is when he continues.

  “I ain’t going to hurt her, kid,” he grins at me.

  “I’m going to hurt the rest of them. The little sister maybe? The kid who’s leg you fucked up?” His eyes narrow at me as he smiles horribly. “How about that little one? The kid with the dad that ran off?”

  I roar as I start to shove open the truck door, but Declan stops it, shoving it shut again.

  “I’ll hurt every single fucking one of them but her, you little shit,” he hisses out, his face red and his eyes wild. “And I’ll make damn sure her and all the rest of them know exactly why. And she’ll hate you for it.”

  He jabs a finger at me through the open car window.

  “And when the light goes out of her eyes, and that little puppy-dog love bullshit you think you’ve got turns to ash around you?”

  He straightens up, his face pinched as he stares at me.

  “Then you’ll know exactly the kind of monster I am, kid,” he says quietly.

  The fight goes out of me like a snuffed out candle, and I blink as I sit back in the seat, feeling my heart racing.

  “When.”

  I say it with zero emotion, my heart sinking through my feet.

  Declan grins as he looks up at the grey early morning sky. “Bout three hours.”

  I whirl at him. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  I can feel my pulse skipping, the horrible sinking feeling spreading through me like a disease as I stare straight ahead through the windshield.

  “No guns?”

  Declan’s still grinning at me, like he’s won.

  And he has.

  “No guns. One guard who’ll probably be sleeping. Two locked doors me and the boys can take care of, and one dial safe I need you for.”

  He knocks his knuckles against the car door.

  “Ten minutes of your life, Silas. Ten lousy minutes and you’ll walk with five mil and you can go do whatever you fucking want with the good Reverend’s daughter.”

  Ivy.

  I can’t just go do this. I can’t just leave her again without an explanation. Last time that cost me eight years and the only love in this world I’ve ever known, and I’ll be damned if I let that happen again. And even if every single cell in my body is screaming no, and screaming for me to run away from this and never look back, I know I can’t do that.

  Not when it’s their safety on the line.

  “I need to swing by my place first,” I say quietly.

  Declan laughs. “So you can spill it to your little girlfriend?” He snorts. “Not happening.”

  I shake my head. “No, I just need to change,” I lie, pulling at the grungy t-shirt I threw on before coming over.

  Declan eyes me. “Fine. We’ll swing by on the way.”

  He grins. “Now come have a fucking drink while we wait for John and the van.”

  I step from the truck in slow motion, like I’m watching my actions from outside my own body. The light starts to break across the harbor, the sun chasing away the creeping chill of the New England night.

  Except I can’t shake it.

  I’m still cold.

  Because something tells me, I’m about to make the biggest mistake of me life, again.

  And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  36

  Ivy

  It’s lighter out the second time I wake up, this time in an empty bed.

  Silas’s bed, where I spent the night.

  For a moment, there’s that initial hit of panic at having stayed here. The “now what” and “what does this mean” questions coming roaring up from inside.

  But only for a second this time. This time, I breathe, I exhale, and then I smile as I sink back into his bed, and I’m not scared anymore.

  This is freeing.

  This is home.

  I sink my face into his pillow, inhaling his scent and wrapping myself in it as I burrow under the sheets. This is exactly where I belong.

  Of course, it would be better if Silas himself were back here in this bed with me. I reach over and check my phone, grumping at the lack of messages or calls from him. I have no idea what time he left after getting the phone-call from Declan’s wife, but the sun is certainly a little brighter out now.

  And I miss him.

  The phone buzzes in my hand, startling me, and for a second my heart jumps thinking it’s him before I look at it.

  It’s Lori.

  Wonderful.

  I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, centering myself and getting myself ready for this conversation before I finally answer.

  “Hi, Lor-”

  “You left the event?!”

  Lori’s voice is tight and shrill.

  I shake my head, frowning. “Lori, I left because of Blaine.”

  “Ivy, for Christ’s sake, I thought we understood each other!”

  “He’s fucking Ainsley, Lori. He’s been cheating on me with my damn assistant!”

  Lori sighs exasperatedly into the phone. “Ivy, I don’t honestly care who Blaine sleeps with. Or you, for that matter, so long as you do what you’re supposed to do when it matters.”

  “Lori-”

  “No, Ivy, you listen. Image is important, and I thought you grasped that. This event was important, and you left a lot of important people in the lurch last night with your little disappearing act.”

  I scowl into the phone, the anger rising up. “Do you even care that Blaine wasn’t honoring his side of the contract?”

  “He was there, Ivy! As I said, I do not care whom either of you sleeps with! I don’t care if you hate each other, so long as you smile for the fucking cameras, engage the audiences, and play the damn roles you’re supposed to play! That’s it!”

  I swear under my breath. “This is insane.”

  “No,” Lori says sharply. She sighs. “Actually, Ivy, this is breach of contract.”

  I freeze.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ivy, I thought I was clear about your terms with us, and what was expected of you last night.”

  “But Blaine-”

  “I do not care, Ivy. I apologize if that sounds cold, but that’s the way this works. You are a product, and we sell you. That’s what this relationship is, and I thought it was fairly mutually generous until you pulled this stunt.”

  I grit my teeth. “Fine, we’ll do some damage control. Look, are the vendors and brand reps still in town?”

  I can’t believe I’m actuality doing this.

  “I’ll come into the city right now. We can set up some brunch meetings, play it off like I was feeling ill last night and still-”

  “No, Ivy,” Lori says quietly and firmly. “I told you to go to that gala last night. I told you it was important.”

  “Lori, will you just listen to-”

  “This is going to have big consequences, Ivy,” she says icily.

  I narrow my eyes, sitting up in the bed.

  “And just what does that mean?”

  She sighs. “It means, Ivy, that you might want to get a lawyer.”

  I freeze, my stomach sinking in my gut.

  “What?”

  Lori sighs again. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, but a breach of contract is a breach of contract.”

  “This is ridiculous, Lori. You can’t actually be serious about this.”

  “I’m going to hang up now, Ivy,” she says sharply. “We’ll be in touch.”

  The line goes dead.

  What the hell just happened.

  Did I just get fired?

  Maybe you should get a lawyer.

  My head reels as I slide out of the bed and slip back into the dress from last night. A hundred thoughts stagger through my he
ad - who I should call, what I should do, where I even begin to find a lawyer for this.

  I whirl, pacing the small room as it rocks gently on the waves. The panic starts to clutch at me, my breath coming fast ands my pulse pounding in my ear as the sick feeling from the conversation starts to wash over me.

  And all I want is for Silas to be here.

  I need my lighthouse.

  As if on cue, I hear the sound of footsteps coming down the docks towards me. My heart jumps a little, the pure need to feel his arms around me right now leaving me breathless as I duck out of his room and run for the door to the main deck.

  “Silas, I-”

  His face is grim, white, and drawn.

  And he’s not alone.

  “Well hello there, sweetness.”

  Declan stands a foot behind him flanked by three men in mostly black, a cigarette in his mouth and a smug grin on his face. He winks at me.

  “Damn, do I love being right about these things.” He chuckles, and I can see Silas’s face tighten.

  Declan gesturers at the two of us with his cigarette. “Knew I was right about you two kids.” He grins. “Dirty old habits, huh, Ms. Hammond?”

  Silas whirls on him. “You don’t talk to her, understand?”

  Declan grins and throws his hands up. “Whatever you say, kid.”

  Silas turns back to me, his eyes darting across my face.

  “Ivy-”

  “What is this?” I whisper, stepping towards him. “What’s he doing here?”

  Silas starts to say something, but Declan cuts him off.

  “Tick-tock, kid. Time waits for no man and all that. Let’s go.”

  “Silas-”

  “I have to go do something, Ivy,” he says quietly, his voice tight and his eyes searching mine.

  No.

  Oh God, no.

  And suddenly, I know exactly why Declan’s here. I know exactly what this is.

  I know what’s about to happen, because it’s like a horrible, horrible deja-vu from eight years ago.

  I’m right back to being in his arms, shaking my head with tears in my eyes as I look up at him, begging him not to go. I’m eighteen again, a ring on my finger and a choking grip on my heart as I plead with him to stay with me.

  “No,” I whisper, my eyes going wide as the realization of what this is washes over me horribly.

  I start to shake my head, my voice feeling like it’s drowning inside.