Backfield in Motion (22 page)

“I fell in love with him. He’s so damaged,
so vulnerable, yet he has a sharp wit older than his years, and
he’s so brave.”

Bruiser nodded. “I fell in love with him,
too. Not very many people can look beyond his burns to the real
person inside. In fact, aside from the staff at Harborview and the
mothers of the kids, I rarely run across a woman strong enough to
treat a kid like him with acceptance and without pity. That’s
really important to those kids.”

“I can only imagine how I’d feel.” Actually
she couldn’t begin to imagine how it felt to know people were
staring at you everywhere you went.

“I try not to get involved too deeply
because at the end of the day, I’m only one small influence in
these kids’ lives. But Elliot is a different case, and he was from
day one. All these other kids have family to support them, but not
Elliot. At least not until his aunt and uncle return from their
mission. For now the staff, doctors, foster parents, and me—and now
you, too—are all he has.”

“I’m flattered to be included. I’m not sure
I’ll be of much help, but I’m here.”

“You were more help than you realize. Elliot
loved having a beautiful lady on his arm tonight, loved that the
rookies were vying for your attention when you were with him. I
didn’t love it much though.”

Mac frowned, attempting to process his
words. “Love what?”

“The rookies. I almost bashed a few heads
together.”

“Why would they bother you?”

Bruiser stared straight ahead, sucking his
lower lip into his mouth. “I’m taking Elliot to that Mariners game
Saturday. It’s a big deal for him to go out in public like this.
Would you like to go? He could use the support.” He’d changed the
topic and didn’t answer her question, and she’d really wanted an
answer.

“Saturday?”

“Yeah.” Bruiser held his breath, as if
hoping she’d say yes. “Please, for Elliot. I can tell he really
values your company.”

Mac was torn, but she’d promised her father
she’d spend the day with him. She’d been putting him off a bit
lately. “I can’t. I promised my dad I’d help him.”

“Your dad, again? When do you get time for
yourself?” Bruiser’s mouth drew into a thin line as he tapped on
the steering wheel, the tension in the car as thick as bullshit in
a locker room.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. Elliot will be sad.”

Mac really was sorry. She sighed, full of
regret and something else. Fear. Fear of the way things were
changing. Fear of turning a corner and never being able to go back
to blissful ignorance. This Bruiser gave to others, had flaws and
weaknesses.

Despite how physically impressive Bruiser
might be, the man under the mask was even more irresistible.

Chapter 15

Bruiser slogged through fog as thick as the
Puget Sound mudflats. An oppressive haze surrounded him, tightening
its grip on his chest until his lungs burned from the effort of
breathing. The cloying mud sucked at his feet and pulled him
deeper, slowing each step and multiplying the effort it took to
move.

Several feel away, Brice lit a match.
Laughing, he taunted his brother, waving the match back and forth.
Desperately Bruiser shouted a warning to his twin but the words
jammed in his throat and strangled him.

Brice grinned and flipped him off. Bruiser
fought like a sonofabitch to get to Bry, only he couldn’t move,
couldn’t speak, rendered helpless by the muddy fog.

A flash of light.

A deafening boom.

An ear-splitting scream that never ended, a
scream that lived in Bruiser’s nightmares and sat on the edge of
his conscience mind, ever present.

The entire world exploded, catapulting Brice
across the patio, arms and legs flailing. Bruiser broke through the
fog, ripped off his shirt, and beat at the blaze engulfing his
brother. His twin stared up at him, his mouth twisted in a silent
scream as his face melted down to bone and charcoaled sinew. Chaos
reigned as Brice’s screams melded with Bruiser’s and the screams of
sirens and neighbors.

The fire sizzled out.

Brice’s face rebuilt itself until Bruiser
stared into the hollow eyes of Elliot holding a pistol in his small
hand.

As if in a trance, Elliot lifted the pistol
to his head and pulled the trigger, while Bruiser watched in
helpless horror. Bits of brain matter and blood splattered
Bruiser’s face and clothes. Elliot slumped to the ground, morphing
back into Brice, the side of his head blown off and his blood
quickly pooling on the concrete. Watching Bruiser with lifeless
eyes, Brice sat up, lifted the gun, and aimed it at his twin.
Bruiser froze and waited for the end.

“Bruiser! Bruiser! Bruiser!” Mac’s voice
penetrated the smothering fear and cut through the bad horror flick
cycling through his mind. Only it hadn’t been a horror flick, and
the people involved weren’t actors. They were real. The scene had
been real.

At least part of it.

Bruiser shot up in bed, chest heaving and
body shaking like a rookie quarterback on his first play in the
pros. A cold sweat streamed down his face, drenching his hair.

He blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes.
Finally he focused on Mac, alarm splashed on her face.

Mac wrapped him in her arms, and damn, he
needed her comfort, needed her warmth, just needed
her
. He
held on, breathing in her scent, burying his face in her tousled
hair, taking comfort from her nearness.

When his shaking subsided and his heart rate
returned to near normal, he drew back, a little sheepish and a lot
embarrassed, feeling open and vulnerable.

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. You were having
a nightmare.”

Her concern touched him more deeply than he
cared to admit. Rarely had anyone expressed concern over his
demons. He’d lived with them for so very long that he just assumed
that was the way life was, for him at least.

Bruiser ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah,
happens once in a while.”

“Is it the same dream every time?” Mac, on
her knees beside him, rubbed his shoulders in deep, comforting
circles.

“Variations of the same dream.” Bruiser
relaxed against the headboard and closed his eyes.

Mac slid her naked body across his. She
stroked his cheek as she stared into his eyes. God, he could lose
himself in those brown eyes. He had lost himself more than once and
wanted to again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

No one ever asked him that question. To talk
about it meant he’d have to reveal the tragedy and shame he’d lived
with since he’d been a kid. He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’ll
live.”

“It was something. You were sweating,
tossing around, definitely upset.”

“I’ll cope.”

“Brice is your twin brother.”

Bruiser nodded. “How did you know?”

“You were shouting his name. Were you
dreaming about his death? Bruiser, what happened to Brice? Why do
you carry guilt around like a life sentence?”

Because it was a life sentence for murder.
That’s how he saw it.

Bruiser gently pushed her off him and stood.
“I need to get going.” He escaped before Mac could ask any more
questions.

* * * * *

That Thursday, Mac rubbed her sweaty palms on
her skirt and glanced at the time on her cell phone. She’d been
waiting for more than a half hour so far. Vince was still in his
interview, which didn’t bode well for Mac.

Mac hated wearing a business suit. She
couldn’t imagine how men endured not just a suit but a constricting
tie every day at work. And the shoes—her feet hurt like hell.

She flipped through another magazine without
reading it or noticing the pictures until she came across an
underwear ad featuring an almost-naked Bruiser and a gorgeous
female model with equally minimal clothes. The woman stood behind
him, her arms around his waist and her hands under the waistband of
his briefs. Bruiser’s head was half-turned to look behind him while
the model leaned into him. Their lips were only an inch apart. The
woman was beyond beautiful, as beautiful as Bruiser. Mac could
never compete physically with a woman like that, even if she wanted
to. Mac was more interested in competing for his heart, but she was
competing with a ghost.

He refused to open up to her, to trust her
with his pain, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Instead,
he withdrew and made himself scarce. She suspected he’d run all his
life from those particular demons, and he’d keep running until he
worked up the courage to confront them.

The door to Veronica’s office opened. Vince
came out laughing and chatting with Veronica. He spotted Mac,
smirked at her, and nodded at Veronica.

“Thanks so much for your time. Learning from
your wisdom is invaluable to me.”

Mac resisted the urge to gag, as Veronica
smiled broadly as if she believed his sincerity. Mac didn’t get it.
The guy was a tool. Veronica, a smart, savvy businesswoman, should
be able to figure that out.

Veronica turned from Vince to Mac, and her
smile faded into a first-class scowl, not exactly a
so-happy-to-see-you expression
.
She glanced at her watch and
tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m running behind. Let’s make this
quick.”

Mac bit back a smart retort. It wasn’t her
fucking fault Veronica was running late.

Veronica ushered her into her swanky office
with a view of Lake Washington and pointed at a chair. “Sit
down.”

Mac sat and waited for the interview to
begin. And waited. And waited. Five minutes of uncomfortable
silence passed while Veronica stared at her computer screen. Maybe
she was looking at Mac’s scholarship application, but Mac doubted
it. Seething inside, she longed to retaliate for every little
insult and slight Veronica had heaved on her over the past few
years, but Mac wanted that damn scholarship.

Veronica was once again wielding her power
like a narcissistic dictator.

Finally, the woman sat back and speared Mac
with a gaze that said she saw everything and didn’t like what she
saw. “Sleeping with Bruiser is not going to earn this
scholarship.”

Veronica’s blunt words rendered Mac
speechless. So that was what this show was all about. What a bitch.
A royal, evil bitch.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. Everyone knows
he’s fucking you. And that’s all it is. So don’t be so stupid as to
think you mean more to him than that.”

Mac squared her shoulders and sat up
straighter. She returned Veronica’s accusatory gaze with one of her
own. “I’m here to be interviewed for a scholarship. My personal
life is none of your business.”

Veronica arched one perfectly shaped black
eyebrow. “Everything that happens between my players and staff is
my business. If you don’t like it, I can replace you quite easily.
How hard can it be to mow a field?”

Damn hard, but Mac bit down on the words,
leaving them unspoken. She’d like to see Veronica mow perfectly
straight lines regardless of the weather. “Could we start the
interview? As you pointed out, you’re running late.”

Veronica actually rolled her eyes. “Fine.
Why should I give you this scholarship?”

Mac ran through her rehearsed answers, while
Veronica stared at her computer screen, yawned, and then picked up
her phone and tapped out a couple text messages.

Mac stopped talking. The bitch had already
made her decision. It didn’t matter what Mac said or how qualified
she was for the scholarship, Veronica didn’t give a shit.

“Are you going to devote time to finish your
education? You quit once.”

“There were extenuating circumstances.”

“And are those circumstances gone now?”

“Not exactly.” The last nail hit the
scholarship coffin.

“Okay, that’s all. We’ll be in touch.”
Veronica stood, effectively dismissing Mac. “Oh, and one more
thing: stay away from Bruiser. You’re not the right image for
him.”

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Simms.”

Veronica snorted. “Don’t forget what I
said.”

Mac wanted so badly to rip into Veronica,
but she caught herself in time, snapped her big mouth shut, and
escaped with her hope in shreds.

At least she still had her job.

* * * * *

“You need to lose her and fast.”

Bruiser glanced up from the weight machine
he’d been battling. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and
squinted into the bright overhead lights at Veronica. “Excuse
me?”

“You heard me. Get rid of Mac.” Veronica
stood a few feet from him, legs braced apart and hands on her hips,
her typical fighting stance.

“Since when do you pick my friends?” Bruiser
ignored her concern. Veronica didn’t worry him one bit.

“She’s not a friend. You’re screwing that
woman.”

“Who I choose to spend time with is none of
your fucking business.”

“I built you, mister. Don’t you forget it.
I’ve been with you every step of the way, getting you great
endorsements, helping you with your charity work, and asking
nothing in return.”

Bruiser laughed. Veronica never did anything
that did not benefit her or the team. “I can smell your bullshit a
mile away. Our relationship has been mutually beneficial. I use
you, you use me. Business partners and nothing else.”

“As your business partner, I don’t like the
message you’re sending to your sponsors and your fans if this gets
out. Not to mention you shouldn’t be banging the staff.”

“Since I have no power over Mac and her
employment here, I can’t see where that’s a problem.” A muscle
twitched in his jaw, and judging by Veronica’s shrewd smirk, she
noticed.

“Until she sues the team’s ass off or
someone else does claiming she’s getting special privileges.”

“Who would do that?”

Veronica stared at him as if he were a
dumbshit. “Seriously? Anyone who’s passed over for a promotion in
favor of Mac.”