Runaway Heart (A Game of Hearts #2)

by Sonya Loveday

  She met my eyes. “Maybe your routine needs a facelift.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed, wishing the knot in my throat would loosen.

  Awkward silence danced between us.

  “You were my only friend when I first joined, Hannah. You made me feel like I was a part of the team, even when the rest were giving me shit because of my klutzy, ditziness. I might come off like an airhead, but there’s more to me than that. And you saw that. I have more to offer, and I hate thinking this is a one-sided friendship. Let me be there for you.”

  Well, shit… there she goes with all the emotional mushy-gushy stuff. The stuff I’m not particularly good at.

  My heart rolled into my stomach. “It’s not, Charlotte. You know that.”

  Her eyes watered. “Do I? Because we don’t talk like we used to anymore. We don’t hang out. We just… skate.”

  I swallowed down the guilt. Cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, Char. I didn’t mean… I never wanted to make you feel like that. I just…”

  I looked past her as my eyes blurred a little.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I admitted, my throat stinging.

  She moved a little closer. “What do you mean?”

  I closed my eyes so it’d be easier to admit the truth. “Cherry was right. There was a guy, and I’ve avoided the subject because of it.”

  She didn’t freak out like I knew she wanted to. She kept her composure, trying to be the friend she wanted to be for me.

  “What happened?”

  I chewed the inside of my lip as I prepared myself for the onslaught of emotion I was about to be hit with. Ones I’d been avoiding since my time on the island.

  “His name is Ed, and he’s basically everything I think I’d ever want in a guy. He’s funny. Charming. Sweet. Tender. Amazing in bed.”

  “You slept with him?” Charlotte sounded somewhat shocked. She knew my track record. Knew I bounced before it ever got too heavy.

  And here I had slept with him within one day of knowing him.

  I was shameful.

  I nodded, barely able to look at her.

  “Wow,” she said, and I imagined all the awful things she must have thought about me. How I lost my game. Lost my mind. “He must be a really great guy then.”

  That threw me off.

  “He was,” I muttered, thinking about how he made me feel safe in the midst of the storm. “And I let him go.”

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. “Because, Charlotte. I don’t want a boyfriend.”

  “You know, you still haven’t told me why,” she said, rubbing her arms. “Was it because of another guy? Did someone break your heart?”

  “Something like that.” I barely got the words out as I thought about my father and how callous and cruel he was. Probably still was.

  “But not every guy is like that, Hannah. You have to know that,” she said. “I’ve met plenty of guys who are great. And what about your friend Maggie? She married a guy who is great, right?”

  She was one of those hopeless romantic types.

  “Yeah.” I knew I couldn’t argue her point. “I just… it’s not something I can explain. It’s just what I feel. I’m not at a point in my life where I want a relationship. I don’t need it. I don’t need a man.”

  “If that’s true, then why have you been so unlike yourself lately?” she countered almost quietly, as if she was a little scared I’d get mad at her point.

  I bit my lip. Looked up at her. “That’s a good question. One I don’t want to know the answer to.”

  “You might want to start considering it, Hannah.”

  “Why?”

  “Cherry is having a meeting tonight at her house. It’s not a party, so don’t worry. She wanted me to tell you to be there. I think she has the roster.”

  My heart slammed against my chest. “Okay,” I said, my pulse pounding in my neck.

  “Okay,” she said, somewhat sad. “I’ll see you there then.”

  I’D PREPARED FOR THIS DAY for months—the day the roster was announced for the 2015 International Roller Derby World Cup.

  Cherry held a piece of paper in her hand, waving it around as if it were the golden ticket from Willy Wonka.

  In some ways, it was.

  It was an out for those who made it. A new beginning. A great adventure.

  It was what I had my sights set on for months.

  “Okay, ladies,” she said, quieting us down. “I know you want to know who’s on this list just as badly as I do.”

  “So freaking read it already!” Sarabeth shouted. The others joined in, hooting and hollering at her to open the damn letter already.

  Her hands shook as bad as mine did. For a brief second, I almost wanted her to stop. Wanted her to throw away the envelope, because not knowing might be better than finding out I didn’t make it.

  Because, what if I didn’t make it? What if all the training I’d done was for nothing? What if all the bruises and scars were an indicator I wasn’t good enough?

  What if I didn’t get the chance to go overseas?

  No, Hannah. That’s not why you want this.

  Then why was my stomach in my throat?

  “Oh my God! I told you!” Charlotte said as the girls crowded around me, shaking my shoulders and slapping me on the back.

  “Wha—?” I asked, trying to catch up with what was happening around me.

  “You made it, chick! You, Cherry, and Charlotte made it onto Team USA!” Harley shouted in front of me.

  My eyes found Cherry across the room, who was surrounded by some of the other girls. She lifted her eyebrows at me, and then the corner of her mouth perked up.

  Oh, shit. I made it. I’d be going to England.

  My blood ran dry.

  It’s a huge country, Hannah. The possibilities of running into him are about as probable as winning the lottery. That you don’t play, I might add.

  But what if I did? What would I do? Run? Say hi?

  Does it matter? You’re just going to go and play. That’s all you’re focused on. If you happen to run into him, then so be it. Thank the universe for being on your side and make the most of it.

  Or run. Faster this time.

  “All right, all right, all right,” Myra said as she walked in and dropped a duffel bag on the floor. “Trying out and making the roster was the easy part.” She bent over the bag and hauled out rain boot after rain boot, tossing them to the three of us who made the team. “But the rain and the cold… that will be your biggest competitor. Tell me, ladies, are you ready for England?”

  Cherry nudged me in the shoulder. “I know someone who is.”

  Butterflies spiraled around my stomach, my impossible emotions riding their wings.

  I grabbed the boots she gave me and held them up, smiling at the graffiti words and doodled hearts scribbled all over them. Laughter belted out of me. “Myra!” I said, my stomach clenching as I tried to speak through the giggles. “You do realize these words are French, right? We’re going to England!”

  Myra gave a short shrug. “Yeah, well, they were half-price. I never said I was made of money.”

  “I don’t care what they say!” Charlotte threw in. “This is the best gift I’ve ever been given.”

  Cherry looked at her like she had two heads.

  “I need you ladies to go home, pack, make sure your passports are ready, and then I’ll be calling you with all the flight and hotel information.”

  “Oh my God,” I said as it really sank in.

  “What?”

  “The World Cup is in two weeks!”

  Myra’s forehead caved. “Yeah…”

  “I have to… I have to make arrangements. Have to cancel my classes. Have to pack. Have to—”

  “Find your sanity!” Cherry said, giggling. “Jesus, if this is what the all-mighty penis does to a girl, then I definitely don’t want anything to do with it.”

  Charlotte gasped. “Cherry!”

  “What?” Cherr
y said without remorse. “You know I have no filter. No boundaries.”

  I scooped up my boots and grabbed my book bag. “That’s an understatement,” I muttered.

  “Where you goin’?” Cherry asked.

  “Home. I have to get my shit together.” I ignored the groans the other girls made as they realized I’d be skipping yet another party.

  “Catch you on the plane then,” she said as I headed for the door.

  The plane. The plane that would take us to England where I may or may not run into Ed. Where I may or may not lose what little grip I have left on myself.

  Lord, help me.

  SMACK IN THE MIDDLE OF London, I sat hunched over my cup, stewing over the fact I’d been suckered, yet again.

  I’d swore I’d never go back to London. I also swore a whole lot at Charlie when he waved over two girls and put them on either side of me at the table.

  Violet, sitting opposite of me, kicked me under the table. My eyes snapped to hers and she pulled a face that said she was just as out of sorts as I was.

  The girl to my left leaned close, blowing her ale-scented breath up my nose as she put her hand on my leg. Giving it a good squeeze, she said, “Charlie tells me ye’re single.”

  Violet giggled, and I shot her a dirty look.

  “I’m single for a reason,” I said, shifting to my right, bumping into the other girl beside me.

  The other girl, Cindy, or Sandy… or whatever the bloody hell her name was, stopped talking to Charlie mid-sentence and turned, putting her hand on my shoulder as she flicked her fingers against my neck.

  “Ye’ve a handsome friend here, Charlie. Is he afraid of girls?” She laughed when I jerked back from her touch.

  I slid my chair back and pulled my wallet out of my pocket, tossing a handful of bills on the table. “I need some air,” I said to no one in particular as I lifted my coat from the back of my seat.

  They called for me as I made my way around the maze of patron-filled tables, but I pretended I couldn’t hear them.

  Outside, I pulled on my coat, stomped my feet against the cold, and ducked around the corner into an empty alleyway.

  Why had I agreed to come back to London?

  Because Violet asked me to.

  Charlie, hearing her ask me, made arrangements for the pub so he could come with us. I should have known better. Charlie was dead set on putting any available girl he came across into my path.

  What he should have concerned himself with was finding his own girl.

  I never should have said anything about finding a girlfriend to him.

  “That’s two more ye’ve blown off on me, mate.” Charlie came to a stop in front of me. “Mind telling me what was wrong with them?”

  I backed up against the brick wall, stuffing my hands in my pockets with a deep sigh that coated the air in white steam.

  It was bitterly cold in the alleyway. The air was sharp enough to cut straight through your lungs on a deep inhale.

  “I couldn’t tell ye what’s wrong with them. I don’t know them,” I said, trying my hardest not to argue with Charlie about it.

  “Is it her? Is it Monica?” He hunched his shoulders against a burst of arctic air.

  “Monica?” Her name came easily off my lips without a wince, or the ache that once threatened to buckle my knees when thinking about her. It felt oddly liberating.

  “Christ, man! Yes, Monica. The one ye’ve been hung up on for the last four damn years. Is it her? Please, for the love of God, tell me it’s not her. I thought ye’d moved on, but it’s… it’s like ye’re worse! What the hell happened?” He practically growled at me.

  I laughed.

  “It’s not funny anymore, Ed! Ye walk around not talking for weeks on end. Then ye decided to talk, but it’s like ye’re not yourself anymore. Ye agreed to come back to London after you swore ye’d never return again. I don’t know what to think about ye now.”

  “It’s not Monica. God, why would I even want her back? She’s moved on. I’ve moved on,” I answered, feeling myself sag further against the brick as I watched him wind up for another go at me.

  “If it’s as ye say, and Monica is out of the picture… then what’s wrong with ye?”

  I was ready to be done with the conversation. “Nothing… everything. I don’t know anymore, Charlie. I’m trying. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Trying what though? What happened in Rum Cay?” He put his hand up when I opened my mouth to answer. “And don’t ye dare say nothing happened. Ye’re done lying to me, yeah? Or do ye forget I was the one who stepped in and stood beside ye when it all went to pot? I watched ye grieve a girl who promised ye the world and then ripped it all out right from underneath ye. Ye stopped talking, stopped eating, and then the next thing I knew, ye hopped a plane to America.”

  I didn’t say anything back. What could I say? He was right.

  “Ed, so help me… if ye don’t say something back, I’m done. I’ll walk away and wish ye well, but I’m done watching ye crash and burn.”

  That pissed me off. “Ye bloody arsehole! I never asked ye to hold my hand through it all. You chose to do that. And why do ye push me to talk about things I don’t want to? Does it make ye feel better, knowing the reasons why? There isn’t a bloody soul can do anything about it.” I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall with a bump. “Jesus, I would, if I could. I close my eyes and I see her. I hear her voice, calling to me, yet no one’s there. I can’t sleep because I know she’s waiting for me in my dreams. It’s like she’s a bloody ghost that follows me, and there isn’t anything I can do to make it stop.”

  “Ed?” Her soft voice called to me.

  I groaned. Why couldn’t I get her out of my head? “She haunts me, Charlie. Even now I can hear her.”

  “Ed, is that you?”

  “Well, if she’s a ghost, then I’m the queen,” Charlie answered, whispering as he grabbed my arm and jostled me.

  I blinked against the cold as my eyes landed on her. “Hannah?”

  My heart thundered in my chest as I vibrated against the need to reach out and touch her. Ensure she was real.

  “Hey,” she said, taking a tentative step closer, worrying her lip between her teeth. “I heard your voice, but thought maybe I was hearing things.”

  “Hannah?” a girl with long, blonde hair called from under the streetlight at the corner.

  She turned and waved. “Right here.”

  The girl marched toward her, flicking a curious glance between Charlie and me. “I thought you’d ducked out on us again, but Cherry said she saw you come this way.”

  “No, I… I um… this is—” Hannah fumbled with her words as her fingers fluttered in my direction.

  I pushed myself off the wall. Praying my knees would keep me upright. “I’m Ed.”

  Charlie coughed a little too loudly, waiting for his introduction.

  I pulled him alongside me. “And this is my good friend Charlie.”

  The girl’s mouth opened in shock as she gaped at Hannah, and then quickly shut it, pulling herself back together. “Charlotte,” she said, sticking her hand out to me. I shook it as she turned to Hannah. “Are these uh… friends of yours?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Of mine,” I corrected almost too quickly. “She’s a friend of mine,” I finished, wondering how Hannah and I would explain how we knew each other.

  Charlotte tittered. Charlie gaped.

  The pieces were falling together. I watched Charlie and Charlotte’s eyes darting between us and couldn’t help but feel something like hope swelling inside my chest.

  Hannah had, at some point, talked about me to someone, which meant she hadn’t been as unaffected by our time together as I’d thought.

  “Ed, what the hell? You left me sitting by myself and here you are ‘round the corner chatting it up… oh, hello,” Violet said, ending her tirade with a megawatt smile as she walked over and looped her arm through mine.

  Hannah stiffened. “Well,
it was good to see you again, Ed. Take care.”

  I watched her walk away, feet cemented to the ground as wave after wave of longing rolled through me.

  “What the hell are ye doin’? Go after her!” Charlie shouted at me, pulling Violet away and shoving me to move.

  The soles of my shoes slipped and slid as I scrambled around the corner. They hadn’t yet moved on, but I realized it a little too late. Coming to a screeching halt, I caught Hannah around the middle and spun her in a full circle, trying to gain my footing.

  “What the hell are you doing? Put me down,” Hannah said, swatting at me.

  I noticed the glimmer of tears in her eyes and knew there was no way I was letting her get away from me again. “Hold still, yeah?” I set her down on her feet, not letting go.

  She gave a half attempt at struggling, but gave up.

  “What are you doing, Ed?” Her question came out as a sigh.

  “Not letting ye get away from me again.” I felt a lopsided smile move over my lips.

  She rolled her eyes at me. “I doubt your girlfriend would like that.”

  I screwed my face up, wondering where she’d have come up with an assumption like that.

  She tried to take a step back, but I held fast.

  “Hannah, who is this guy?” a different girl asked over Hannah’s shoulder. She had short, brown hair and a tough air to her that spoke through her heavily, dark-lined eyes.

  Hannah’s eyes went wide, face paling.

  “I’m Ed,” I said when I realized Hannah wasn’t going to answer.

  “Liza.” The girl’s scrutinizing eyes scanned me over. “But you can call me Cherry. You must be the English guy Hannah’s been so hung up over. I guess I can see why.”

  I smirked as my chest expanded. She had definitely talked about me.

  Hannah’s fists clenched at her sides. “Cherry, shut the hell up or so help me—.”

  “Three beautiful American women, Ed? How’d ye get so lucky, mate?” Charlie called out as he approached us.

  Hannah stiffened in my arms when Violet stopped beside us. She introduced herself to Cherry and said, “We’re heading back into the pub. Care to join us?”