Playing for Keeps (Hope Valley Book 10)

by Jessica Prince

  “Thanks a lot,” I called after her with as much sarcasm as my voice could muster. She shot a smile over her shoulder and gave me a little finger wave. Jerk.

  “Jesus Christ,” Micah grunted, raking his hands through his hair. He sighed heavily while he rubbed at the muscles in the back of his neck with one hand and braced the other on his hip. Everything about his stance screamed defeat, and I hated seeing my friend that way.

  “I’m okay, Micah. Some bumps and bruises, but I’m all right. Look.” His eyes came up, and I offered him a huge smile that made my battered face scream, but I powered through for him. “I’m right here. Alive and kicking.”

  “The situation could’ve played out a lot differently if your neighbor hadn’t come home when she did.”

  At the mention of my neighbor, concern clutched tight at my chest. “How is Ms. Weatherby?”

  She had saved my life today. I wasn’t sure if there was anything I could do or say that would accurately express my appreciation for what she’d done. That was a debt I’d never be able to repay.

  “Shaken up, but all right, I think. Fred Duncan and a couple other officers went to check on her after you were carted off. Said they got stuck drinkin’ some of the worst lemonade they’d ever had.”

  My giggle morphed into a sharp gasp at the razorblade of pain in my ribs. “Damn,” I panted. “Even laughing hurts.”

  “Charlie,” Micah said, his voice devoid of all humor. When I got a better hold on the pain and looked back up at him, he was staring down at me intently. “You didn’t recognize anything about this guy? His voice, any distinguishing marks?”

  “No, I’ve already told you,” I said on a long exhale.

  “And this ‘she’ he kept askin’ about—”

  “I don’t know who he was talking about,” I insisted. “Have you talked to Marin? Maybe that guy was someone involved with the asshole she used to date.”

  “We did,” he answered, his features going hard. “I’m still beyond pissed at you for doing something so goddamn reckless, by the way.”

  I sighed, resting my head back on the reclined bed. “Yeah, well, get in line,” I grumbled.

  “It wasn’t him, and I feel confident sayin’ he wasn’t involved.” There was a brief pause like he was gearing up for something big, and when he spoke next, his words carried a heaviness that threatened to crush me. “There is another possibility. One I think is already dancing around in the back of your mind, but you’re just too damn stubborn to consider it.”

  My head came up fast, regardless of the pain. I threw daggers with my eyes as I clipped, “No. It’s not possible.”

  “You can’t know that for sure. If there’s someone lookin’ for your sister, it would make sense they’d come after you for answers.”

  “It’s been eighteen years. No one in her world even knows I exist.”

  “You can’t know that for sure. Just because you kept your sister a secret from everyone in your life doesn’t mean she did the same.” The expression that washed over his face and the tone of his voice was full of admonishment, like he was disappointed in me for not opening up about this big secret. And damn if that look didn’t hold more power over me now than it once did.

  A hardness slipped over me that I hadn’t felt in a long time; it was the attitude I used to coat myself in like Teflon to mask the fact that the life I lived left me in a constant state of fear. I hadn’t needed that defense mechanism in some time, but now it was back, making my muscles seize. “You know, I’m really not in the mood for a lecture right now. You promised you wouldn’t say anything, so just drop it.”

  I could see it in his eyes, he was just about to snap back when the curtain flapped open and a straight-faced Dalton came walking through. Instead of the usual swoop of excitement I felt in my belly every time I laid eyes on him, I was eaten up with anxiety, worrying about the changes to the man who’d not only scaled the walls I’d built around myself but had torn them down, brick by mortared brick, until he held my heart in his hands.

  “Just saw Tempie outside. Your room’s ready.” His flat, emotionless voice betrayed absolutely nothing.

  I saw Micah move from the corner of my eye and forced my attention off Dalton just as he reached the side of my bed. “That’s my cue.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead, even though it was clear that he was upset with me. “I’ll check on you tomorrow. Try and get some rest, yeah?”

  “All right,” I muttered, knowing full well there was no rest in my near future.

  As he passed, he and Dalton exchanged chin lifts, then he disappeared through the curtain, taking with him the only buffer I had between this new, unrecognizable Dalton and me.

  Dalton

  My whole world had stopped the moment I got the call from Micah telling me Charlotte had been attacked. I wasn’t sure I’d pulled in a single full breath the entire time it took me to get from Alpha Omega to her.

  Worst-case scenarios ran through my mind in a constant loop. Then I stormed into her apartment. I saw her sitting there, beat to hell, bloody, unrecognizable, and the earth fell out from beneath my feet.

  It didn’t matter she was sitting on her own, conscious, alive. Seeing her in that state had transported me back in time. Once again, I’d failed to keep her safe. Once again, she’d been hurt on my watch.

  The gnawing guilt twisted in my gut, leaching its poison into me until I couldn’t speak. Hell, I could hardly think of anything other than how badly I’d fucked up . . . again.

  Everything from the time at her apartment all the way to the hospital was hazy. It was as if I’d moved on autopilot the whole time. I couldn’t even be sure how I got from point A to point B.

  I stood there helpless as she replayed everything that had happened, and piece after piece of me broke off and shriveled into nothing. Then she told the officers about feeling as though she was being watched and the haze cleared up, replaced by white-hot rage.

  I knew my anger was misplaced. I knew everything I was feeling, all those sick, vile emotions that were twisting me up inside, were completely irrational, but I couldn’t seem to get my brain to cooperate. I was mad at myself for failing her, mad at the asshole who felt he had the right to put his hands on her, mad at her for ignoring her instincts.

  I was just plain fucking mad, and I didn’t know where the hell to direct any of it, so it sat in my gut, festering. I felt like I was coming out of my skin. It was tight and itchy like it didn’t fit over my bones the way it was supposed to. There was a beast lurking inside of me, clawing and snapping its jaws, trying to break free so it could find the fucker who’d hurt my Charlotte and make him suffer.

  Holding that part of me in check was harder than it had ever been before. I was hanging by a thread, and with each passing minute, I got closer and closer to losing my grip. I’d lived through war. I’d seen men die. I’d taken lives and fought and bled for my country, and even through all of that, I’d only ever felt this out of control once before. And both times, it was because of her.

  My family had arrived shortly after Charlotte had been moved to a private room, and I’d hoped that having them there fussing over her would provide a distraction, but the air still hung heavy with tension.

  “Are you hungry, dear?” my mom asked, fluffing the pillow behind Charlotte’s head for what had to be the millionth time in the ten minutes they’d been there. “I don’t know what the food is like in this place, but I can’t imagine it’s very good. If you want, Walt and I would be happy to run to the diner and grab dinner for everyone.”

  “Sounds good, Mom,” I said at the same time Charlotte said, “Oh no. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  Jolie and my folks grew quiet as Charlotte threw an unhappy glare in my direction.

  “Uh . . .” My mother fiddled with her fingers, wringing them in front of her as she tried to lighten the mood that hung dark and thick in the room. “It’s no problem at all, sweetie. We don’t mind. If there’s anything we can do to ma
ke you more comfortable, you just say the word.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Charlotte give my mom a small grin. “In that case, think maybe you could talk the doctors into letting me go home?”

  Everyone else laughed, assuming she was teasing, while my fingers clenched into a hard, white-knuckle grip.

  “That’s not gonna happen,” I grated, pulling my attention from the TV I’d been staring at, unseeing, for the past several minutes. Some dismal reality show with overly-tanned, botoxed-to-hell women had been playing silently in the background. I didn’t give a shit about the show or anyone on it, but pretending to be engrossed was better than letting the uncomfortable silence swallow us up. Or at least that’s what I thought. Christ, just looking at her beautiful face, covered in cuts and muddled with bruises, fucking hurt.

  “Son,” my father said in warning, but I was too busy staring at my woman to pay him any mind.

  The glare she threw me just then was cold enough to freeze water. “That’s not your call.” That gnawing in my gut increased ten-fold. It should have been a relief to see that fire of hers was still there, burning bright, but witnessing that wasn’t doing anything to help loosen the tension that had taken over my whole body.

  “Yeah, it is,” I corrected. “Became my call when you proved for a second goddamn time that you couldn’t be trusted with your own safety.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I knew I’d crossed a line the moment the words came out of my mouth, but I was too far gone to stop them.

  “Dalt, what the hell? Not cool, bro,” Jolie snapped.

  The temperature in the room felt like it suddenly dropped ten degrees, and that big freeze was rolling off the tiny woman curled up in the hospital bed. “You did not just say that to me,” she exclaimed in a quiet voice. If I hadn’t been so far gone, I would have read the mood coming off her and shut my mouth, but it was too late. It felt like a dam had just been breached.

  “Been sleeping next to you every night, and this is the first I’m hearing my woman’s been feeling like she’s being watched,” I barked, finally unleashing my anger. “Why the fuck is that, Charlotte?”

  She sputtered, her face growing red beneath the bruises. “I-I didn’t think it was a big deal!” she tried to defend. “I thought I was just being paranoid.”

  “Dalton, maybe you and I should step outside, take a breath,” my dad tried, but I carried on like he wasn’t even there.

  “Or maybe it was just you tryin’ to keep from letting me in.”

  “That’s not true!” she cried. “I let you in. You know that!”

  “I do?” I asked with an incredulous laugh. “If I’m in like you say I am, tell me why you can’t sleep through the night. Tell me why the fuck you ran from me and straight to fucking Cormack, almost getting yourself killed. Tell me why I catch you starin’ off into space with a sad look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  Her jaw dropped just for a moment before she clamped it shut.

  “That’s what I thought,” I scoffed bitterly. “You say I’m in, but I’m not. Or maybe I’m only in as far as you’ll let anyone, which, with you, means I’ve barely scratched the fuckin’ surface.”

  “That’s enough.” My father’s booming voice filled the room, finally breaking through the red fog I’d been trapped in since stepping foot into Charlotte’s apartment earlier. He moved around the bed, coming to stand in front of me and placing a bracing hand on my shoulder. “You need to work this anger from under your skin, son. Take some time, go somewhere to cool down. You can come back when you’ve cleared your head.”

  “I’m not—” I started, but he cut me off.

  “Go,” he snapped. “Before you say somethin’ you won’t be able to take back. Your mom and I have this. We’ll make sure she’s safe.”

  I wanted to argue. I wanted to take back everything I’d just let spew forth. I wanted to go back to this morning when I was buried inside my woman, when I felt like we were one, before everything got so fucked up.

  But when I looked to the bed and saw Charlotte sitting there, her wide, pain-filled eyes on me as tears spilled down her cheeks, I knew staying wasn’t an option. Not until I’d done as my father said and worked this poison out.

  Staying would only make everything worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dalton

  I barely registered the unhappy roars and curses coming from the crowd as my opponent fell to the ground, unconscious.

  I hadn’t been in the frame of mind to give them a show tonight when I stepped into the makeshift ring. All I’d been able to focus on was trying to work this shit out from under my skin.

  The guy I’d been fighting only got in one hit, and not even a good one, before I knocked him out cold.

  Fucking waste of my time, I thought as I shoved through the crowd and headed out of the warehouse, collecting my winnings on the way toward the exit. That beast was still fighting to get free, still clawing and scratching at my insides.

  “Wasn’t a very entertaining fight back there, brother.”

  At Trent’s voice, I lifted my head and spotted him leaning casually against the hood of my truck. “Not my fault the asshole had a glass jaw.” I beeped the locks and yanked open the driver-side door, pulling the envelope of cash out of my back pocket and tossing it into the center console. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Your dad called, told me what went down at the hospital. I figured I’d find you here. You manage to work that rage out with that guy?” He jerked his chin toward the warehouse just as the people who came to watch the fights started to spill out.

  “What do you think?”

  He pushed off the truck, standing to his full height. “Think you still need a good fight. Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “To AO. I’ll give you the fight you’re needing, but not without gear. My face is prettier than yours.”

  Alpha Omega took up a large part of an historic building downtown. The first floor housed the main operation, and the second level had been converted into a gym with everything the guys working for Lincoln could possibly need, including a boxing ring.

  Trent was standing in the middle of the ring, shaking his arms loose as I climbed through the ropes. “Don’t worry,” he started with a wink, “I’ll go easy on you.”

  “Just try to stay conscious, shithead.”

  We bumped gloves, and I didn’t hesitate to throw a right hook. His head twisted to the side, spit flying from his mouth and hitting the mat.

  I usually would have started slower, sparring for a few minutes before building up to a full-blown fight, but with my shit mood, I needed to beat the hell out of someone, and my boy had offered himself up on a silver platter.

  He looked back at me, a smirk pulling at his bloody lip. “There it is. Thought you’d pussy out.”

  He dodged my next punch, nailing me in the ribs hard enough to knock the wind out of me. We went at each other like that for a good ten minutes. I’d land a kidney shot, and he’d retaliate with a jab that bloodied my nose.

  I fought underground because there were no real rules, but even with the gloves, this was the closest I’d had to a fair fight in a long fucking time. Trent had the same training, the same power, the same brute strength behind every punch, so by the time we broke apart, we were both covered in sweat and blood, breathing hard.

  We were both going to be riddled with bruises tomorrow, but that beast inside of me was finally quiet for the first time in hours.

  “Had enough?” I asked, spitting blood onto the mat as I wiped the sweat from my brow with my forearm.

  “You tell me?” he returned, grabbing a bottle of water and squirting a steady stream into his mouth. “You feel like you got that shit worked out, or you need me to scramble your brain a bit more?”

  I ripped the gloves off my hands and leaned against the ropes, pulling in a much-needed breath. “I think I’m good for now. Thanks.”

  “Any time, brothe
r. You know that.” He smacked me on the back, and we headed out of the ring. He snatched up a couple towels, tossing one to me before moving to sit on the bench press a couple yards away. “So you finally ready to talk about what went down at the hospital?”

  I took a seat on another one of the machines, mopping my face with the towel before chugging from my own water bottle. My gut twisted into knots as I thought back to that look on Charlotte’s tear-stained face as I walked out of her hospital room.

  “I lost my mind,” I admitted. “I saw her like that and—” I had to stop. Closing my eyes, I gave my head a shake and swallowed the bile that was trying to climb up my throat, leaving a nasty burn in its wake. “She said she felt like someone’s been watching her recently and I just fuckin’ lost it, man. I didn’t know how to deal with seeing her like that a second goddamn time, and I took it out on her. I knew the shit I was saying to her was fucked up as it was coming out of my mouth, but I couldn’t make myself stop.”

  “I can see how that’d happen. I guess the question now is, what’re you going to do to fix it?”

  My head suddenly felt too heavy to hold up. I dropped it, my shoulders slumping in defeat as I looked down at the floor and gave it a shake. “I don’t know. Fucking kills me to say it, but I’m not sure there’s anything to fix.”

  His brows pulled together in consternation. “What are you talking about? I thought things were good?”

  “I thought they were too. Or at least that was what I was trying to convince myself of. I kept telling myself I was fine with what she was giving me, that she’d eventually trust me enough to give me the secrets she’s holding in a goddamn death grip, but after today, I’m not sure that’s the case. I’m not sure I’ll ever get in any deeper than I am now, and I don’t think I can keep lyin’ to myself that it’s enough.”

  I felt all the anxiety I’d managed to work out only minutes ago resurface, ugly and black, sticking to my insides like tar.