Bitter Edge : A Hero Club Novel Read online

  “Huh?”

  “You were picking on me one second, then I totally lost you inside your glass. What gives?”

  “Are we telling stories now?”

  “We’re here, I can tell your day has sucked and not only because of me. Do you want to talk about her? Would it help?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What did she look like? How long were you together?”

  I reach into my back pocket for my wallet. From the inside panel, I pull a folded set of pictures from a photo booth we did at a friend’s wedding about five years ago. I hold them and stare at those people. We’re so different now than we were then. I was still playing the game I love. She’d just gotten her job. We’d moved in together. We still were in love.

  I hand the photo strip to Cierra and take a slow drag from my tumbler. My finger traces the rim over and over, while I watch Cierra and Mari meet for the first time. I can’t tell what Cierra is thinking. She holds on to the images for a long time before handing them back to me.

  “You look different in those pictures. You look happy.”

  “You think I’m not happy?”

  “Not that kind of happy, no. You may be content or even settled, but not truly happy.”

  “Leave it be, Cierra, please.”

  “You opened the door, Spencer. I’m only trying to understand.”

  “Have you had a relationship that ended, but you wish hadn’t?”

  She pauses. I can’t read the expression she has but she quickly downs the second tumbler sitting before her. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “The ladies’ room, nosey.”

  I watch her lightly hobble away. She shut down quick. That’s her MO. She always does that. I don’t know what it means this time. Did I hit a nerve? Did someone hurt her? I’d never considered her life before we met. Her fingers run through her hair from end to end, pulling it over her left shoulder.

  Two men at the end of the bar follow her every move with their stares. I can’t blame them. She does look pretty in that dress. However, there is a line between admiration and gawking. They’re getting dangerously close to crossing it. While Cierra’s away, Sara comes back with a beer in tow and sets it down on the table to my right.

  “Looks like you could use this. On the house.”

  I give her a small smile. “Thanks.”

  When I give her no more than that, she tells me our food orders can be up in about ten minutes if I know what we want. I repeat back to Sara exactly as Cierra wanted. A fat juicy burger with a basket of fries and a side of ranch. The look on her face matches mine when I heard it, one of disgust. I shrug and say, “It’s what she wants.”

  I look up when I hear Cierra’s voice across the room. “No thank you,” she says. One gent in a ball cap and tee shirt is making it known he’d like her company and she wants none of it. He and his buddy are half a case in and are not taking no for an answer. His hand around her wrist is trying to persuade her otherwise in a more aggressive effort. The line has been crossed.

  Chapter 17

  Spencer

  Fuck. I don’t want to fight. It would take care of quite a few things if I could get in a punch or two. I’d give anything to release this anger, the fucking sadness, and some other unnamed thing I feel in my gut, but I also don’t need to end today in the BFN lockup.

  The last thing I need to hear, as I make my way closer, is them telling her how much fun she’d have with both of them. Before Cierra can answer, I step in between them. “I believe the lady said she wasn’t interested.”

  “What’s it to you, friend?” the voice from under the ball cap questions.

  “I’d like to think you’d understand English and respect the word no when you hear it. Are you hard of hearing or just that thick?”

  “Spencer. Stop,” Cierra begs from behind me, as I feel her hand wrap around my elbow.

  Mr. Ball Cap’s friend pipes in, “Are you looking for a fight, son? Because we would be all too happy to oblige.”

  “I would like for you to leave the lady alone. Call me son one more time, and I will take that offer outside.”

  Mr. Ball Cap rises from his stool, deciding to try and go nose-to-nose with me. It’s more like nose to chin. I can feel a certain heat rise in my chest. Come on, prick. As much as I miss the actual game, the release of a good drop the gloves battle isn’t far behind. It’s very good for a few things. Take one swing. I’m begging you. Just one. I’d love to get what I feel out in one massive punch to that drunk smug jaw of yours.

  “Spencer, no. Come on.” Cierra slides her hand from my elbow in between us over my chest. “Spencer, please. My drink is getting warm. Let’s go toss some darts. Come on.”

  I lean in enough toward them to end this pissing match before we turn back toward our table. Cierra gives me a little shove from behind. “What the hell?”

  “Did you think I was going to let that shit go?”

  “I could have handled it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to handle it. There are some guys who don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

  She takes a breath and I follow with my own to match. “I meant it about the darts. Go.”

  “I don’t want to play fucking darts.”

  “Pretend it’s their faces on the board and pin them between the eyes.”

  “Can you even toss straight at this point? You’ve had two shots very quickly.”

  “You afraid to lose to me, Spencer?”

  “I’m afraid I will end up with a dart between my eyes.”

  “There’s your sense of humor. I thought you lost it.”

  “Nah, it’s only buried under a mess of shit at the moment.”

  I carry our drinks up the three stairs to the back. In a small alcove on the platform sit the dart lanes. We’re pretty secluded up here, so Thing One and Thing Two won’t have a show to ogle.

  The jukebox keeps playing sad country songs in order. Shania. Garth. Blake. Sugarland. Vince. Reba. God, it needs to stop. I offer her the three blue darts while I pull the black ones. Black, like my soul at the moment.

  We play in near silence until Cierra’s voice cuts through the musical hell with an answer to a question asked long ago. “No.”

  “No?”

  “The answer to your question is no. I’ve never had a relationship end. You’d have to have one begin in order for it to end.”

  “You’ve never had a boyfriend?”

  “I’ve had a couple dates, but no. Never.”

  “May I ask why?”

  She throws a dart then tosses her third drink down as she searches for an answer. “I homeschooled because of training. By the time I was old enough, I was so into a routine that unless they were rink rats like me, I didn’t really meet anyone. I went out with Coach B’s nephew once, but that was a disaster. I guess I never found someone I liked enough…or liked me enough. I’m not easy to like.”

  She steps out of the way to allow me to shoot. Her hands wrap over the top of the chair next to her as she rocks into it slowly. I toss one dart before I respond, “You’re easy to like if you allow for it. You don’t let people in, Cierra.”

  “Look who’s talking. We’ve been working together for months, and today was the first time I heard about Mari.”

  “We’ve never talked like that. I don’t invite people in.”

  “I rest my case.” She curtseys a little bit and wobbles to the left.

  I reach out and grab her shoulder. “Take a seat and eat that burger Sara brought. You need more than amber to keep you going.”

  “I suppose I should have mentioned this was the first time I ever had whiskey.”

  “Are you shitting me? Why would you just tell me this now?”

  “Yolo, remember?” She giggles a little bit as she slides into her chair.

  “You’re a lightweight and tiny. One double of Makers was more than plenty. Jesus, Cierra.”

  “Don’t be such a mom right no
w. Sit and eat with me.”

  “If it will get you to actually eat, fine.” I set my remaining darts on the table and pull out the chair to her left. “No more drinks for you. Water only.”

  “I was having water before. What do you think the ice cubes were?”

  I roll my eyes so hard I think the muscles holding them in place are going to snap. “Fries. Get the grease in you.”

  “I will if you tell me more. Tell me more stories of Spencer Broten.”

  Tipsy Cierra could be really fun if she wasn’t annoying as fuck with the prying. “What do you want to know?”

  “Do you regret going to Australia?”

  She doesn’t pull any punches drunk or sober. “I can’t answer that.”

  “Sure you can. It’s a fair question.”

  “It may be fair, but it doesn’t have a clear and easy answer.”

  “I don’t care about easy. I want honest. I don’t think you’re always honest with me, even when you claim the truth.”

  “You think I lie to you, Cierra?”

  “I think you hide. I know hiders when I see them. I’m fucking amazing at hiding, so I recognize a kindred spirit when I see one.”

  Jesus. What was in that Makers? Truth serum?

  “Do I regret chasing my dream? No. Hell no. Fuck no. I will never have to ask what would have been. I went for it and my body gave out. Plain and simple.”

  “You do ask yourself what could have been though. You’ve done it all day today, right? That’s why you were an even bigger ass than you can be normally. It’s cool but call a spade a spade. You miss her.”

  “Yes, I miss her. I miss having her at my side. I miss having another half to a whole. But I can’t go back.”

  “You don’t think she’d have you back? I can see the way she looks at you in those pictures. That doesn’t just stop, right?”

  “Cierra, it’s been over two years. She’s engaged and pregnant, all right? She got what I wouldn’t give her. I’m not going to fuck that up.”

  “Oh. Damn. When did you find out?”

  “Day before yesterday. I got a call from my mother telling me she was engaged and about the baby. She didn’t want me to hear about it any other way.”

  “That’s why you decided on this road trip. It all makes sense now.”

  “What makes sense? This trip is about you, Cierra, and what you’re hiding from.”

  “Oh, and nothing to do with you running. Sure. Dry that one out and you could fertilize lawns with it.”

  I bark, “It’s not bullshit, Cierra. Jesus.”

  My chair slides back and the legs make an awful squealing sound as they cross the floor. The sound echoes through the entire gaming platform. Cierra stares at me. In all the months we’ve been working together, I’ve never growled at her, let alone raised my voice.

  She gets up and towers over me, as I remain seated. “I’m going back to the motel. If that’s okay with you, Sir.”

  Before I can stop her, she hobble steps in her brace to the stairs. She makes the first step but misses the last one to the landing, catching herself awkwardly prior to hitting the floor.

  I toss two twenties to the table before racing to Cierra’s side. “Hey, easy. Did your knee give out?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “No. Things are tilting sideways.”

  “Christ.”

  Without another word, I scoop her into my arms and out into the night air. “Spencer?”

  “Yes?”

  “Hold my dress over my ass. I feel a draft and I don’t want the world to know what color my thong is.”

  “Fuck.” I tug at the hem and hold it the best I can against her skin. Her hand follows behind and slides under mine to keep the fabric in place. Her fingers weave in the open spaces my fingers leave. Her left arm curls across her body as her head, that once was upright, begins to bob then settle against my chest.

  My stride that once was quick has now slowed. Her dark hair cascades around her shoulders and wisps across her face. I can sense a hint of the whiskey with a mix of her citrus body spray and the light vanilla of her shampoo. It’s been a while since I had a woman this close. It feels good. She feels good.

  Chapter 18

  Spencer

  Getting back in the room is going to be a trick. There is no way Cierra can stand on her own, but she is also covering the key. I gingerly shift her weight, so I’m holding her entire body flush against mine. The heat of the night and from her is sending my body mixed signals.

  “Cierra?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I need five seconds to get the door open. I need you to hold on for those five seconds.”

  “Don’t you need longer than that?”

  “No. You need to sleep.”

  “What about what you need?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  As I slide the key in the lock, she links her fingers in my hair and brings her lips within a fraction of mine. “I don’t know what to do when you’re sad.”

  “You don’t have to do anything.”

  “My secret is…I don’t like it.”

  She exhales before pulling me in to meet her lips. In an instant a million thoughts scream through my mind. Not the least of which is, shit, she’s kissing me while she’s drunk and the one that is loudest is, I’m letting her.

  I turn the knob of the door and push it open. There is a beam of light from the moon between the crack in the curtains, which is giving a dim white glow over the whole space. I don’t think to turn the lights on and lift Cierra with my left arm back against my body, as her feet dangle about a foot off the floor.

  I walk forward a couple of steps and kick the door closed behind us. The fingers of my right hand trace a slow line up and down her spine. Her lips are so soft. Fucking hell. It’s like tasting a ripe peach. Her elbows rest on my shoulders as soft little sounds vibrate from her body.

  Her lips part just enough to accept me in. If I were thinking right now, I wouldn’t allow this to happen. I’m not thinking for the first time in a long time and it feels good. Nearly too good.

  The light points us in the direction of the bed. As our lips and tongues continue to caress each other’s, I pull the blankets down to lay her on the sheets. Her fingers peel away from the knots she was weaving in my hair, to allow her to give a subtle bit of distance between us, before I place her on her pillow.

  Our lips are the last things to part as her body comes to rest. As if I couldn’t be more surprised by this evening’s chain of events, she tops it all with one sentence. “I’ve wanted that for a long time.”

  She turns to her side away from me, brings her knees up, curling her into the smallest of human balls, and falls asleep nearly instantly. Jesus Christ. Zero to sixty then back to zero.

  The light is hitting right across her body from her cheekbone to her breasts. I can see the gentle rise and fall her chest. It’s timed to a perfect beat. In two, three, four. Out two, three, four. Slow. Steady. She’s beautiful.

  I pull the sheet and light blanket up to her shoulder. Pieces of her hair have fallen over her eye. Tentatively, I reach in and slide them back with my finger. She remains still. I lower to my knees at her bedside and simply stare for a while.

  Today was so confusing. I was consumed by thoughts of Mari. What she would be doing today. How things could be different. Missing her like crazy. That led into me being a prick, which seemed to make Cierra feel sorry for me. As I watch her sleep, I’m now consumed with thinking first about the hug.

  It was nice to be held by someone. By her. I didn’t know I needed it until it happened. I’ve never paid much attention to Cierra in that way. I’ve had to keep that client-type relationship. It is as much for her as me. I need to be objective and have that no bullshit attitude with her.

  She saw through that. She paid closer attention than I gave her credit for. I’ve assumed she didn’t have it in her to step outside herself, but she did and has be
en for a while it seems. Her fingers peek out and wrap around the edge of the blanket. I’m fixated on them. Those delicate digits were wrapped around me not once but twice today.

  They were the softest things on my skin in months but also burned at the same time. I don’t know if I could have or would have stopped us had she not passed out. My cock was taking over the part of me with sense. I need it. I need it bad. I think, however, I want it. I want it with her.

  “What is happening, Cierra?” I begin softly. “I shut off this whole part of me and in a few hours, you’ve ripped me open. You’ve wanted this for a long time? Is that true? Since when? You’ve called me every name in the book, including some that hadn’t been invented yet. You look at me like the devil, but you want me? How? Why?

  “Until you touched me, I looked at you as the spoiled brat who is willfully, fucking tossing an Olympic moment out the window, without a fucking care. Is that who you are or is it this girl? The one who is caring for me, who is trying to coax me out. The one with the softest nearly mocha skin and pink lips, who is a damn ray of sunshine in the black pit my soul has become.

  “I thought I was dead in that way. There’s no way I could be dead with that body pressed against mine. What do I do about it? Anything? Nothing? Tell me what to do here, Cierra, because I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  Chapter 19

  Cierra

  A little sliver of sunshine blasts across my closed eyelids as reality sets in. It’s morning and I feel like a truck hit me. My mouth feels like a dust storm took up residence. My ankle is locked up. My knee is throbbing, which only barely dulls the focus off my pounding head.

  Okay, that is what I feel. I can’t roll over too quickly because I’m afraid it will set off a tidal wave of bad things I don’t want. Let’s go with simply trying to open my eyes and focus. I open my eye closest to the pillow first. Seems safest and allows less light in. Things are a bit fuzzy at the start, but the room isn’t spinning at least. That’s a good sign.

  Let’s try the other eye. I let it flutter and find shapes I recognize. The curtains hanging in the window. My bag on the floor by the chair. My yellow dress hanging over the back of the chair.