by S. J. Bishop
I held Kaitlyn in my arms, inhaling her sweet perfume. It settled my nerves. "Come on," she suddenly said. "Let's get you on the table."
My jaw dropped. "You're not serious."
"The hell I'm not," Kaitlyn said. "You owe me some more physical therapy."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. Kaitlyn was stubborn as hell, but her eyes flashed with emotion when she got riled up like this, and it only made her sexier.
"Come on," she said. "Up on the table." She smiled and leaned into me. "Maybe if you cooperate, I'll give you a reward."
That was all I needed. I hopped up on the table. "I better call my lawyer first," I said. "I need to get this taken care of. I hope he answers this time." I pulled my phone out and realized someone was calling me. "Mom?" I asked, my pulse quickening. "Everything okay?"
"What happened over there?" my mom asked, sounding frantic.
"Taylor came by. She wants Riley back, or so she claims. I find it hard to believe she's suddenly decided to care about Riley now, though."
My mom was silent a minute, which freaked me out. My mom was never silent.
"Did you hit her?"
"What?" I asked. "No! Of course not." Kaitlyn took my hand, trying to comfort me. I stared at her hard for a minute, the blood draining from my face. "Why do you ask?"
"Taylor's posting pictures of herself online. Pictures of a swollen, bloody lip." My mother waited for my reaction. "Axel, she's saying you did that to her." My jaw dropped open, and I let go of Kaitlyn's hand.
"What exactly is she saying? Where is she posting this?"
"Everywhere. Facebook. Instagram. She's uploaded pictures to every site I can think of. It's going viral."
"Mom, I'll call you back," I said. I heard her start to protest but couldn't wait. Anger boiled deep inside me.
"What's happening?" Kaitlyn asked. Her face had gone pale. I got off the massage table and hobbled toward her.
"Be careful," she said. "Your knee." She handed me my crutches, and I knocked them away.
"You just couldn't contain yourself, could you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You just had to hit her. You knew she was a drug addict and a liar. I told you that. Whatever she said shouldn't even matter to you."
"Axel, I don't understand—"
"She's saying I did it. That I hit her."
Kaitlyn's eyes wavered. Tears began to well in them. "I... I'm sorry. I just, I wasn't thinking."
"Damn right you weren't."
"You said yourself you would have done the same thing if Taylor was a man." Her voice was strong and defiant, but her eyes were brimming over with tears.
"But I didn't do it. You did. And now I'm stuck taking the blame."
"So I'll just tell everyone it was me. I'll own up to it."
I shook my head, exasperated. How could Kaitlyn be so stupid?
"No one's going to believe you. Taylor already thinks you're my girlfriend. It's your word against hers. People will just think you're covering for me."
"That's not fair, though. Let me at least—"
"Life isn't fair, Kaitlyn! Are you really this naïve?"
"Hey! I didn't come down here today looking for this. If you'd have just left me alone to do my job, none of this would have happened."
"Are you saying it's my fault that you're so horny you can't control yourself?"
"I'm saying it's your fault that you can't keep your dick in your pants!"
"Screw you, Kaitlyn!"
"Fuck you, Axel!"
Kaitlyn grabbed her things and stormed toward the exit. "You can find yourself a new physical therapist. I should never have broken my rule for you. There's a reason I don't fuck football players, and you're it."
She stormed off, leaving me alone. The worst thing was, despite what had just happened, I still wanted her.
11
Kaitlyn
I woke up with my head throbbing. Too much beer and too little food was a bad combination for an early morning. Especially when you were eating and drinking all by your lonesome. I pushed myself off the couch and went to face the mirror. My eyes were red, and I had an imprint on my forehead from where the ring I'd fallen asleep wearing had pressed against my skin.
"Dammit!" I murmured to myself, wiping at my skin with a bath towel. Why did I have to be so pathetic? Why did Axel have to be so charming? I smiled in spite of myself. Between my move to Denver and caring for my father before he passed away, it had been months since I'd gotten into bed with someone, and even then, it hadn't been very good.
Axel had hit me like a fucking brick. I just couldn't shake him, even after he'd blamed me for fucking things up with his ex. I jumped into the shower and closed my eyes, reliving the few, steamy moments we'd shared together just days before. My hand drifted over my thigh as I lathered myself up, moving closer and closer to the soft mound between my legs. I pictured Axel's thick, pink tongue swimming between me. His breath was hot and his pulse quickened in step with mine.
My hand continued moving over my body, massaging my breasts and winding their way back down to that soft center of my pussy that screamed with desire. I pressed my fingers to my clit. My breath hitched in my chest. These were no longer my fingers, they were Axel's. His rich golden skin grew hot against my own as I remembered the feel of him sliding deep inside me. I slid my own fingers deep into my cave, pretending it was the rock hard mass Axel had driven home just a few days before.
My doorbell rang, knocking me out of my fantasy. I opened my eyes. "Dammit!"
I held my breath, waiting to see if they'd go away. Who would be ringing my doorbell now anyway? I hardly knew anyone in Colorado. Probably just someone trying to sell something. Silence reigned once more, and I closed my eyes again. Where was I?
Axel had just been about to drive himself home. My fingers moved faster over my clit as I felt the intensity of my passion swell up in me. Stars began to burst open around me. My mouth ran dry.
The doorbell rang again.
"Oh Goddammit!" I cried. Even if whoever it was left now, they had ruined the moment for me. I didn't have all morning to play in the shower. I had to get to work. The bell rang again.
"Oh, for crying out loud!" I yelled, throwing my clothes on. They'd been hanging on the hook of the bathroom door and stuck to my body as I tried to hurry up. The bell rang again, irritating my ears. I'd have to find a way to turn the damned bell off if people were gonna be ringing it like this. I threw the door open and felt my jaw drop as Ethan smiled back at me.
"Hi, Kate."
Ethan hadn't texted me since the day I'd been with Axel, when I'd told him to bite me. That had been days ago. The last couple of days, Axel had shown up at the stadium, but he'd given me the cold shoulder. I'd hoped that today might be different. For one brief moment, just before I'd seen Ethan's face, I'd somehow hoped it was Axel who'd come to call.
"Ethan," I said. "What are you doing here?"
He looked good. I had to admit it. The police officer's uniform he wore brought out the blue in his eyes. And the dark blue shirt fit snugly enough against him that I could see muscles standing out under the cotton. He ran a hand over his brow. Dark blonde hair hung loose in front of his eyes. If he hadn't have cheated on me in high school, I was pretty sure I'd be all over him by now. But he had cheated on me, and I had nothing to say to him.
I started to close the door. I didn't even have my makeup on yet.
"Kaitlyn, wait."
"What are you doing? Stalking me now?" My cheeks flushed, and I wished I had just stayed in the shower.
"No, of course not. I just... I wanted to talk to you."
"About what? High school was a long time ago, Ethan. How did you get my address anyway?"
Ethan shrugged. "The same way I got your number. I'm a cop."
Duh. For some reason, I'd thought he'd gotten my number from his mom.
"Can't I just talk to you for a minute?" Ethan asked.
I sighed. "If I talk to you now, will
you leave me alone?"
Ethan nodded, his eyes brightening.
"Fine, then. Talk."
"Look, back in high school, I did a lot of things I'm not proud of."
I rolled my eyes. "Are you serious right now? I'm twenty-five; how old are you?"
Ethan's smile faltered. "You know we're the same age."
"Exactly," I told him. "So why are you bringing up something that happened nearly ten years ago?"
"Because I hurt you," Ethan said. "And I wanted to explain why."
I searched the floor around Ethan's feet for something to distract me from this nightmare. It had taken me a year of constant crying to finally accept what had happened between us. Ethan had been the first boy I'd ever slept with. Even though we were still teenagers, it had shaped my view of relationships for a long time after.
"I already know why you cheated on me," I said. "Because all guys like cheerleaders. It's only natural. No big deal."
"Well... it's a little more complicated than that."
Something clicked for me then. "You're in AA!" Finally, something that made sense. "Well, you can tell your sponsor that you're forgiven, alright?"
"No, Kaitlyn. I'm not in AA." He looked like he wanted to laugh at the idea.
"Then I don't understand," I said. Ethan opened his mouth to reply, but I opened mine faster. "And I don't care," I told him. "I have to get ready for work. Goodbye." I shut the door in his face, and this time, I let the bell ring.
12
Axel
Fucking reporters wouldn't stop calling me. Taylor's goddamn pictures were splashed across every sleazy tabloid magazine and online site out there. It wasn't fair. I hadn't even been the one to hit her. Still, I couldn't entirely blame Kaitlyn. Especially when I couldn't get her out of my mind. I'd bedded lots of women in my day, but there'd been something about her that had lingered on my body. Her smell? Her touch? I couldn't place it, but I knew it was still there.
"Hi, Daddy," Riley said. I turned around and saw her taking her seat at the kitchen table.
"I thought we might eat in the living room today, Riles. In front of the TV. I got a new video of Subby Samantha."
Subby Samantha was a cartoon submarine that went around saving people's lives. It was her favorite show, and the last couple of days she'd missed it because I wouldn't let her watch any TV. She was only four, but she was smart as a whip. If she caught even a whiff that something was going on with me or Taylor, she'd never stop asking questions. And I had no intention of explaining physical assault to a four-year-old.
Riley's eyes lit up at the mention of her favorite cartoon. She nodded her head and ran into the living room, settling onto the couch. Normally, TV at mealtime was a big no-no, so this was a special treat for her. And as long as I was playing a video, where no news ads could pop up, I figured why not? I popped the Blu Ray in and started it up.
"Cam I have pamcakes, Daddy?"
"Sure you can," I told her. "In fact, you can have them with chocolate chips and whipped cream if you want."
Riley's eyes widened. She stared at me like I'd just told her Santa was in the kitchen. "Birfday?" she asked.
I shook my head. "Not your birthday, or mine either," I said. "Just daddy-daughter morning."
Riley grinned and turned back to the TV. I'd anticipated Riley's desire for pancakes. It was the only thing I could get her to eat with any regularity. I was just grateful her favorite food wasn't cookies. Though chocolate chip pancakes were a decadent treat, the zucchini potato pancakes I'd made for her not long ago illustrated that you could get kids to eat anything as long as they thought they were eating something bad for them.
The doorbell rang just as I was about to pour the batter into the pan. Riley sat on the couch, laughing hysterically as Submarine Samantha chased a tadpole up some seaweed. I tried to look through the peephole, but all I could see was a cloudy field of white. I opened the door and saw Taylor standing there with a grin on her face, trying to look cute and seductive.
"Hey, Axel," she said. Her white dress was stained around the armpits, and her figure—which had been perfect four years ago when I'd first met her—looked both frumpish and sickly. Her skin was blotchy, and her eyes looked a little too bright for this time of day.
I stepped out onto the porch and closed the door. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
"I came to see Riley."
"Oh, did you?"
"She's my daughter, too. I have as much right—"
"You think starting a smear campaign against me somehow gives you the right to see Riley?" I asked. She didn't give a shit about Riley. She never had. "Have you thought at all about what seeing you could do to Riley?"
"I'm clean."
"The hell you are. I can see it in your eyes, Taylor. You're high as a kite right now. If you get anywhere near Riley, I really will hit you. Now get out of here before I call the cops."
I left Taylor with her mouth hanging open and her wired eyes staring after me.
"Who wuz it, Daddy?" Riley asked when I came into the living room.
"No one. A salesman."
Riley returned to the television, and I returned to our pancakes. When we were finished eating, I got her into the car and drove to my parents. Halfway there, I noticed a van tailing me. I took a closer look and realized it was a news van.
"Christ’s sake," I mumbled, taking a sudden right and circling the block, trying to lose them.
"Daddy?" Riley asked.
"Nothing, Riles. Just thinking to myself."
When we got to my parents, the van was gone. That was the one good thing about all the side streets near my parents—plenty of opportunities to get lost. I got Riley out of the backseat and took her hand, which was no easy feat considering the crutches. She broke free from my grip and ran to the door, ringing the bell several dozen times before I could stop her. Luckily, my parents were two of Riley's most favorite people.
"Nana!" Riley cried when my mom opened the door.
"Hey, kiddo," my father said, scooping Riley into his arms. "Seen any crocodiles this week?"
"In the baftub." She'd had the same toy crocodile since she was two. She liked to take it swimming with her.
"Hi, honey," my mom said, kissing my cheek.
"Hey, Mom."
She looked at the bags under my eyes as my dad took Riley inside. "You're not sleeping," she said. You can never fool a mother. "Is it Taylor?"
"What else would it be?"
"I don't know. I thought maybe a girl..."
"It is a girl, Mom. Taylor."
My mom sighed. "I meant another type of girl." I sighed with irritation. "A mother can hope, can't she? Anything we need to know?"
"Yeah, I think there's a news van following me. If anyone comes knocking—"
"Don't answer. Don't say a word. We know. Just go take care of yourself right now. Have a nice game."
"Thanks, Mom. I'll call you." I gave her a one-armed hug and hobbled back down the path to my car, happier than ever that it was my left leg that had gotten hurt and not my right. I started the car up and was pulling away when I saw the damned news van behind me again.
"Fuck!" I stepped on the accelerator and pealed down the block. There wasn't a pedestrian in sight. When I turned the corner doing fifty, my tires squealed, and before I knew what was happening, my car was careening toward a tree. I slammed on my brakes and narrowly avoided it. I'd lost the reporters, but to what end? It wouldn't help Riley one bit if I was dead or in the hospital.
13
Kaitlyn
I arrived at the stadium with plenty of time to spare. The game didn't start for a couple of hours yet. If anyone needed some pre-game stretches, I was ready. And if anyone got injured during the game, I'd be there to fix them up. Who cared about Axel? I had a whole team of football players that I was fairly certain would be more than happy to fuck me into tomorrow if I chose to let them. Maybe I should, just to stick it to Axel a little. Slut. Don't even go t
here.
I pushed the voice from my head. I had no intention of actually fucking anyone, but it was fun to picture Axel's face if I did. I wondered if he'd be jealous.
My car came to a stop in the one open spot with my name painted on it. It made me feel important. I saw Axel just ahead of me. He must've been running late. Normally, he was here several hours ahead of a game. A twinge of annoyance shot through me as I felt my body respond to him. Why couldn't I just keep myself under control when I was around him?
He turned around for a moment, and the second I saw his face, my question was answered. His golden skin was like a precious jewel shining in the sun. His dark tousled hair added just the right amount of ruggedness. His chiseled jaw line had just the right amount of sex appeal. Axel was a fucking god in the looks department. Too bad his personality didn't match.
A group of reporters tried to follow Axel through the players' entrance, but they were turned away. I considered calling out to him. It had been a few days now since we'd been together. Maybe if we talked, we could sort things out. "Axel—!" I started to shout just as a group of women broke through the gate and ran up to him.
One of the women—a bleach blonde with fake breasts if I ever saw them—wrapped her arms around Axel and pulled him to her. One of his crutches fell to his side, and he almost toppled over onto her. She probably would have loved it if he had.
I could see her tongue running over his lips. It made my stomach churn. I stopped walking and stood watching. The guard I'd met at my first day on the job, Shannon, was gone. Two burly-looking men came running after the women instead. They pulled Axel free, handing him his fallen crutch, and started to usher the girls back out of the stadium.
"Aw!" whined a redhead. "Axel's our favorite player! We just wanna meet him."
"Hey, fellas," Axel called after the guards. "It's alright, let them go."
The guards looked at each other and shrugged, then let go of the women. There were four of them. They ran back to Axel, and each took a turn touching him. My stomach churned again as I watched the way Axel flirted with them. What kind of asshole gets hounded by reporters and a psycho ex-girlfriend but finds the time to make out with strange women?
