“I’m not afraid.” Avery’s eyes narrowed.
“Then it’s settled,” Lace said turning to facing the radio rep. “Lace versus the princess. No one else. “All for charity. I’m betting a thousand myself that she won’t last even one round against me.”
“I don’t know. She might surprise you, Lace.” King grinned. He loved a good fight, legitimate or otherwise. I suspected he even participated himself on occasion, despite the danger to the hands that were his livelihood. “I would bet myself but as a judge that would present a conflict of interest. But I’ll give both of you an insider tip. It’s gonna take more than just how good you look in a bikini to get a perfect score.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Melinda
“What the hell?” Tyler exclaimed, eyes growing wide when he opened the door. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I gg...got caught in a dd...downpour. The snow turned to ff...freezing rain. I didn’t have an umbrella.” My teeth clattered together, my wet clothes dripping all over the Sutton Place hallway.
“Get in here.” He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me inside his apartment. “You’re shaking like a leaf.” He gestured toward the bathroom. “Get those wet things off and take a hot shower. I was just putting together some of the clothes you left behind to return to you. Good thing, huh?”
I nodded, icy rivulets cascading from my saturated hair to my starting-to-go-numb skin.
“You sure you don’t need any help getting undressed?” Tyler frowned as I stumbled on the way to the bathroom.
“Nice tt...try, bb…but I think I cc…can manage.” I shut the double doors on the handsome hockey heartthrob’s face but caught the smirk as I did.
I stripped, tossing my sodden clothing in the sink. The hot water stung everywhere it hit my frigid skin. After being under the spray for a couple of moments, I started to thaw, but I didn’t stop shaking until I had been in the shower for several minutes. Eyes closed, face tipped up into the warmth, I was finger combing conditioner through my hair when a shadow fell over me. Swiping water from my eyes, I saw that Tyler had entered the bathroom. He leaned a hip against the vanity, his gaze slowly sliding over me.
“Ty,” I began turning my body to shield it from his view. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Just bringing your clothes in.” He folded his arms together, pointing with his head at the pile of folded things on the counter beside him.
“Thanks, but…”
“You sure you want us to be over, Belle?”
Shit. “Tyler, this really isn’t an appropriate place to discuss it.”
“It’s as good a place as any. Hard for you to bullshit me when you’re standing there in the buff, right?” he intoned snidely.
My eyes narrowing, I flipped off the water and started to reach for the towel I had draped over the glass of the shower, but Tyler moved closer and snapped it away. He grinned holding it in his hand just out of my reach.
I frowned.
“Did you ever even give us a chance?” he asked, his posture nonchalant. He spoke in an offhandedly casual tone, but something in his gaze made me sure that my answer mattered to him. Perhaps a great deal. Maybe there had been more to us than I had supposed.
“I thought you understood that we were just for fun. I thought I was pretty upfront with you, but...”
“You were. I knew you weren’t over one of those bastards in Tempest, but I didn’t think it was the serious one. Has it been him all along?”
I nodded, my brow creasing speculatively as I eyed that towel he had folded and placed on the counter and the hockey stick he had leaning against his side. Did he have a game tonight? “Ty,” I began trying to make my tone conciliatory but he was starting to piss me off just standing there staring. “I’m getting cold. Please...”
“You just don’t get it do you?” he interrupted, his features hardening. “It’s so fucking easy for you to go from one guy to the next. Parker, then me, now this new guy. I think you enjoy twisting us all around your little finger.” He suddenly picked up the stick and swung it in a wide arc. I ducked reflexively, though he wasn’t aiming at me.
I gasped as the two big pieces that formed the frame for the shower enclosure broke free. I closed my eyes and cowered hearing a sound like twin gunshots as they hit the floor shattered on impact. My heart hammering, I opened my eyes and stared at him in wide eyed astonishment.
“Don’t look at me all surprised and scared with those big blue eyes.” He snorted. “What is it with hot chicks and their constant need for affirmation? As if you can’t see for yourself how good you look.” He took a step toward me. I wanted to withdraw but couldn’t with my bare feet and the shards of glass everywhere. “But then again that’s the problem.” Smaller pieces crunched beneath the soles of Tyler’s boots as he moved wicked fast, transferring the stick from one hand to the other. A player known for his quick reaction time in goal, I had forgotten until that moment that he was ambidextrous, as if it mattered in my current predicament. My fear had begun to rise by the time the end of the stick collided with glass again. This time the vanity mirror was his focus. I ducked again, wrapping my arms over my head. Unfortunately several sharp shards nicked the skin on my arms and my legs anyway. The small cuts burning and welling up with blood, I started to tremble in earnest, beyond frightened now.
“Tyler, for God’s sake, get control of yourself.”
“I think she gets it.” He gave me a feral grin. “How the rest of us feel when you sashay into our lives and wreck us. Not so great, is it, huh? Not so nice to feel so fucking vulnerable.” He leaned close, and I caught the heavy fumes of alcohol.
“You’re drunk,” I told him. “And unhinged. I ought to beat your ass myself for this.”
“Really?” His eyes flashed. “I believe you just might think you could.”
“Absolutely,” I returned stubbornly and probably ill advisedly.
“Unbelievable.” He shook his head back and forth. “Why are the gorgeous ones always bat shit crazy.” He dropped the stick as if it were somehow to blame for his behavior. He raked an unsteady hand through his wavy brown hair. He glanced at my clothes then back at me, a malicious glint sparkling in his eyes that gave me pause.
“Well, good luck, sweetheart.” He backed away, swiping the stack of my clothes off of the counter along with the only towel. A shower of glass fell to the floor with a tinkling sound as he shook the items out. I stood alone like an island surrounded by a sea of sparkling debris. “Or I should say good luck to the new guy. He’s gonna need it.”
• • •
Sager
“Roja.” King had the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows. He pressed his hands into Avery’s shoulders. “Mira, pay attention. This is some real serious shit you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Avery looked hazy, her emerald eyes unfocused. She had seemed a little out of it ever since she had exchanged her clothes for the tiny string bikini. She filled it out nicely, but she wasn’t in my pixie’s league.
“You can call it off, chica.” King shook his head as he studied her. “If you’re not up for this.”
“Why wouldn’t I be,” she argued, setting her lips into a determined line like the time she had talked us into giving her that one extra shot of tequila on the tour bus. “What makes you think I can’t take her? What’s so special about Lace Lowell anyway?” She snorted. “It’s not like she’s some Amazon.” The Brutal Strength guitarist glanced over at our former songstress again. Lace glowered back at her. Avery frowned, biting her lip as if wondering why her competitor seemed to have suddenly grown several inches taller in the last couple of minutes.
“There’s no shame in backing out.” I touched Avery’s arm softly, noticing all of the goose bumps on her skin. My gaze drifted over to Lace and Bryan who commanded most of the attention in the cluttered area backstage. Those two had been arguing nonstop since Lace had exited the storage room that was serving as a dressing r
oom tonight.
“I can’t do that. I have to stand up for myself, or she’ll get the idea she can walk all over me.” Looking stubborn, the red head lifted her chin reminding me of Melinda. “Do you think she’s changed her mind?” Her question sounded almost like a plea.
“Trust me, there’s zero chance of that happening, Roja.” King started to knead the tense muscles of Avery’s shoulders like a trainer prepares a prize fighter to step into the ring, only this ring was an inflatable one filled with gallons of mud.
“King’s right. She’s impossible to redirect once she sets her mind on something.” I rubbed a hand over the stubble on my jaw and leaned closer. “My suggestion?” I spoke low so only Avery and King could hear. The redheaded underdog needed any edge she could get. “Go for Lace’s hair. She’s very tender headed. She complains about the stylist every time she gets her hair cut.”
“Mi hermano is right. Don’t fight fair. She won’t.” He snorted. “Twist, pull or pinch whatever you can. Her nipple. The inside of her thigh. Don’t hold back. Lace is hell on wheels.”
Eyes widened, Avery turned a little green like she might throw up. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the radio guy announced her over the sound system. He was playing it up, whipping the crowd into a WWL like frenzy.
I peeled back the curtain and peered out at the crowd, which if anything had gotten larger. People were pressed as tightly together toward the front of the stage as they had been in the barricaded standing only section on our last tour.
When the match had been announced, the noise level inside the Mine spiked so loud my ears started ringing. Lace blazed by Avery, purposefully brushing against her on her way to the stage.
“Ok, Roja. It’s time. You can do this.” Not sounding convinced, King curled his fingers around the back of her neck and kissed the top of her head. When she didn’t immediately move, he gave the rattled redhead a gentle nudge to get her going.
“Good luck,” I told her as she shuffled to her probable doom.
“Luck?” King’s eyes met mine. “She’s gonna need a lot more than that. She’s gonna need a miracle.” He made the sign of the cross.
We quickly made our way down the steps from the stage and settled back into our seats at the judging table just in time to catch Lace bestowing a haughty, disdainful look upon Avery. The guys in the audience behind us were going crazy. Cat calls and sharp whistles pierced the air. Looking anything but ready, Avery stared out at the sea of mostly male faces as if searching for the courage she needed among them.
A sudden commotion near the downstairs bar made me swivel around in my chair to check it out. Marcus Anthony. The imposing lead singer of Brutal Strength moved confidently through the path that had opened up for him. Making his way to the bar, he leaned an elbow on the surface before turning to face the stage. I glanced back at Avery. The attractive guitarist was standing up noticeably straighter now. She seemed to gain strength from her fiancé even across the length of the club. Those two might be having a little trouble in paradise like Bryan and Lace, but it seemed as though their bond was still pretty strong.
“What’s the problem, Princess?” Lace taunted, the mics picking up her words and blasting them over the sound system as Avery remained immobile. “Afraid of getting a little dirty?”
“No bitch.” Avery turned back to Lace throwing back her shoulders. She returned the platinum blonde’s glare. “But then I would have to bow to your expertise when it comes to matters of filth now wouldn’t I?”
Lace’s eyes narrowed. The crowd was soaking up every bit of the drama unfolding before them, cellphone cameras recording everything. King and I exchanged a last worried glance.
Avery’s face drained of color as the buzzer blared. Lace grinned maniacally, stepping inside the pool and crooking her finger at the pale guitarist. Avery glanced over at Marcus again.
“My money’s on you, Ace!” He shouted over the rising din, unfolded a thick wad of bills and laid them out on the bar before lifting an uncapped bottle of water in the air and tipping it her way. “Two thousand bucks. No mercy. Wipe the floor with her.”
“Muddy the floor more likely,” someone quipped and the room tittered with amused laughter.
“C’mon, Avery. Quit stalling. Or do you need your daddy’s permission?” Lace meant Marcus of course. After all, the dude was nearly a decade older than Avery was but given the flash of pain in the guitarist’s emerald eyes it was obvious she was envisioning her sick father. Lace didn’t seem to notice or maybe she just didn’t care. She continued to taunt Avery. “You’re spoiled and weak. The only reason you have any friends or success is because people feel sorry for you.” Avery flinched as if she had been slapped, then set her jaw and stomped across the stage. Apparently she was ready to peel the smug smile off of Lace’s face. Unfortunately, her feet slid out from under her just as soon as she stepped inside the pool. She reached for something to break her fall, but the only thing in the vicinity was her opponent. Lace easily dodged her desperate grasp. Avery went down, and I mean hard, landing gracelessly, mud splashing in every direction.
The crowd cheered their approval, and Lace stood over her, hands on her hips smiling with barely restrained glee.
“That’s more like it,” she gloated. “I like seeing you on your skinny ass. And now I’m going to kick it.” She dove for Avery to make good on her threat, but the redhead anticipated the move and rolled. Lace went face first into the goo, her splash actually larger than Avery’s.
Both women covered in mud now, they growled at each other flashing white teeth in feral fury. They grappled for several long moments while the crowd cheered. But then Avery did something surprising. Sweet little Avery who I had never known to harm another soul. Reaching into the bottom of the pool, she fished out a lump of mud, then reared back and shoved the foul looking glop right into her rival’s mouth.
Eyes blazing, Lace snarled like a rabid dog. She shoved the redhead backward and Avery hit the floor getting the wind knocked out of her lungs. Pressing her advantage, Lace threw a leg over the other girl’s body and pinned her to the bottom of the pool. Avery wriggled ineffectively but couldn’t break loose. Lace grinned triumphantly, and I knew exactly what she planned to do. She gave the Brutal Strength guitarist a mouthful of her own dirty medicine.
Avery spit it out right back at her.
After that things totally devolved, the two exchanging positions of dominance at least a half dozen times. I nearly forgot to keep score. The two women kicked, grabbed and writhed around the kiddy pool like slippery eels on a muddy river bank, each trying to throw the other out of bounds for the win, but neither seemed able to gain enough leverage to pull it off.
“Grrr,” Avery growled, baring her grit filled teeth and looking more than a little crazed. She swiped at Lace like a vengeful feline, her nails connecting and digging a furrow in the soft flesh of the blonde’s cheek.
“You bitch!” Lace screeched, her hand rising to assess the damage. “That fucking does it!” Eyes glowing with amber fire, she ducked her head and slammed it into Avery’s abdomen as if she were a blitzing linebacker instead of a former singer now a fashion college enrollee.
Avery’s body flew through the air, landing hard on her back, half in and half out of the ring.
“She’s out.” Chest heaving, Lace braced her hands on her knees and glanced over at King and me. We had to call it. The bell rang. While the radio rep proclaimed Lace the champion, Avery got to her feet and staggered off the stage. I kicked my chair back and was on my way to offer her some consolation, but Marcus beat me to her. He swept Avery into his arms, swiped a hand over her lips to remove most of the mud and latched his mouth onto hers. I guess seeing your girl in a bikini wrestling another woman was a big turn on no matter who won, or maybe he just wanted to get her mind off the loss. Either way, I decided that Marcus Anthony wasn’t such a bad guy and backed away to give the couple their privacy.
“Hermano.” King grabbed my arm. I turned towa
rd him my gut twisting when I saw the look on his face. “Dizzy just got a call from your pixie. She’s in trouble.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Melinda
“Blue,” Sager whispered when he saw me. He cursed under his breath, then turned his head to the side. “King,” he called, keeping me in his sight. “Keep everyone out.”
“Sí, hermano. I’m on it.” I heard his best friend confirm from the other room. Relieved tears spilled over my cheeks when I heard the voices of the others fading. I let out a sigh as the outside door to Tyler’s apartment click shut. Eyes hard, expression furious though I knew his anger wasn’t directed at me, Sager stepped through the bathroom doorway and quickly closed the space separating us. I sagged into him as he swept me into his arms, rescuing me from the temporary prison. My lips trembled as badly as my legs did from standing in one place so long. I twined my arms around his neck, still clutching my cell in a death grip. I ducked my head to his solid chest and pressed my cheek into his welcome warmth. I could hear his rapid heartbeat hammering beneath my ear. Glass popping and cracking beneath the thick soles of his black wing tipped oxfords, he carried me into the adjoining room. He sat us both down on the bed, arranged me on his lap my legs over his thighs before gently lifting my chin to look at me. Wearing a severe frown and a deep crease between his brows, he swiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.
“What happened, Blue?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “Security said there were reports of shouting coming from the apartment. Dizzy said you were sobbing when you called. What did Tyler do to you? Did he…”
“No.” I cut him off and shook my head in vehement denial. “Nothing like that. He was just being a big bully. He wanted to scare me, I think. Shake me up a bit in a way I wouldn’t forget.” When I had gotten over my initial shock, I had noticed that he had abandoned his hockey stick within my reach. I had used it to knock my cell off the counter where I had laid it before climbing into the shower. After a couple of attempts, I had managed to drag it over to me. I had tried calling Sager first, but he hadn’t answered his phone so I had called Dizzy instead hoping he might be in his apartment in the building. He hadn’t been. He had been out in Coquitlam with April and her family, but he had contacted King, who had relayed my message to Sager apparently.
The Complete Tempest World Box Set Page 144
