#Swag (GearShark #3) (36 page)

The words felt like an oversized flour sack was tossed right into my middle. The wind was sort of knocked out of me, leaving behind this momentary hollowness before I sucked in more air to fill it back up again.

I guess I always knew it, that he hadn’t been able to write off our father the way I had. It killed me, though, because I wanted to protect my brother, and it seemed no matter what I did, my father would always have an ability to hurt him.

In truth, that was the real reason I put off this conversation for so long. It was an open invitation for my brother to get hurt. Again.

How could I hand that to him? How could I be a party to it?

I didn’t really have a choice, because the longer I put this off, the greater chance Arrow would go to other means to find out what the meeting was all about. He might go directly to our father.

I didn’t want that.

“He told me he felt regret for the kind of father he’s been. He wants a chance to… have a better relationship.”

“He seriously said that?” Arrow asked dubiously.

“He said it,” I replied curtly.

“But just with you, though, right? Not with me.”

The assumption pierced my heart. I might get my asshole nature from my father, but I would never, ever do to one of my kids what he’d done to Arrow.

I rubbed my palm over the back of my neck and went for more of my coffee. “Actually,” I said around a mouthful of the stuff. “He meant the both of us.”

The small spark of hope that ignited in my brother’s eyes left me feeling cold. “Me, too?”

“Yeah, he asked me to talk to you. See if you wanted to, uh, talk to him.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“I told him to go fuck himself.”

Arrow nodded like he already figured as much. “So you don’t think he means it?”

I sighed heavily and finished the coffee. I wanted to say no. I wanted to yell this conversation was stupid as fuck.

I didn’t.

My brother deserved better than that.

“I think he meant it when he said it. But with Dad, it’s hard to say if he still means it today.”

Arrow nodded. “Do you want a relationship with him?”

“Honestly, bro?” I began. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him for all the stuff he’s done. I’m not built that way.”

I held grudges. For life.

There was no point in pretending otherwise.

A nodded, accepting the truth of my reply. “Is that all he said, that he wants to talk to me?”

“He read the
GearShark
article. We talked about that for a few, but basically, yeah.”

“He knew I was going to be on the plane?”

He was fishing, looking for even an inkling of something that might soften all the harsh treatment he’d gotten over the past several years. It hurt me to see it. His vulnerability, the innocence he somehow maintained deep inside him despite everything, cut profoundly.

“Yeah, he knew.”

Arrow nodded and fell quiet for a few minutes. He came back around, dropping on the side of the bed.

“Will you think bad of me if I want to see him?”

I made a choked sound and sat down beside him. “I might not always like every choice you make, but I’ll never think bad of you, A. I’ll always be your brother, and my loyalty will always be with you.”

His stare stayed trained down on his feet, and the back of his head bobbed with his nod. “That’s good.”

I half smiled and gave him a pat on the back (a manly pat). “Take some time and think about it, Arrow. Things might not go the way you want if you see him, but I understand if you gotta do it anyway. When…
if
you decide to see him, I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks, Lor.” He spoke.

“Anytime.”

“You heading back over to your room, or you gonna hang?”

“I can hang for a while,” I said, kicking back on the mattress. “Josie’s probably gonna be a while.”

“I’m starving,” Arrow complained.

When wasn’t he starving? I barked a laugh. “I’ll order some pizza and wings. Extra hot like you like ‘em.”

“What about Joey?” He worried.

I shrugged. “We can take the food over to her when it gets here. Rent a movie.”

“She gonna be up for that?”

I scoffed. “Up for lying in bed and watching TV? I think she can handle it.”

He grinned like he won the lotto.

It eased me because the smile was genuine, and I knew he was doing all right. It made me silently hope he stayed away from my father, because I was very afraid it would only drag him down.

“What’s she doing anyway?” he asked, cutting into my thoughts.

I grunted and glanced at the clock. “Right about now?” I quipped. “Probably answering a whole lot of questions.”

Joey

My phone was still off.

I planned to leave it that way until the mess of what happened on the track today blew over… It was unrealistic. This was a big scandal, one that wouldn’t just “blow over” quickly.

But I could live in denial for a little while.

The fingerprint-shaped bruises on my neck were pretty much permission granted for a little stay at the denial hotel.

Here’s the thing about denial: it’s only good if you can avoid whatever it is you’re trying to ignore. Some problems come knocking…

Or in my case, ringing.

Jace’s phone went off, and his body tensed beneath mine like he might get up to answer. I made a small, husky sound and tightened my body (which was totally covering his) around him so he wouldn’t move.

He was a comfort. A true security I hadn’t even realized I lived without. If I lost this, it would leave a gaping hole in my life, and I would never be able to go back to not knowing what I missed.

I was sore. Tired. Hurt.

But he made me feel better.

A deep chuckle filled the space above my head. His arm tugged me a little more firmly into him. I sighed, letting my eyes close.

The phone went off again. This time it didn’t shut up. Gently, Jace peeled me off him to slide out from beneath my naked form. I protested, but he kept going. “Arrow might need something.”

I relented, not upset in the least he would think of his brother. In fact, I loved him more for it. He snatched up the phone, and I perused the strong, lean lines of his body and the strength in his stance.

“What?” he growled into the phone, making my eyes flash up to his scowling face.

Clearly, it wasn’t his brother.

He made a grunting sound and then held the phone out to me. “It’s for you.”

“Who?” I mumbled, pushing up and tugging the sheet with me.

“Forrester.”

I pressed the phone to my ear. “Drew?”

“Your phone’s off,” he stated.

“Yeah, figured the press would be vicious.”

He made a sound. “Vultures.”

“Is something wrong?” I worried. Clearly, he needed something if he would go to the bother of calling Jace.

“I wanted to give you a heads up. Your father’s in town.”

“What?” I squeaked. Technically, I tried to exclaim in surprise, but when you’re choked out by a man, your voice doesn’t always cooperate. I felt Jace’s eyes, and I glanced up. He was frowning, then turned away to grab some shorts out of his bag.

“We’re on our way to pick him up at the airport. He’s coming straight to you.”

An anxious feeling turned my belly, and I pressed a hand to it.

“Josie,” Jace said, stealing my attention. Concern was dark on his features.

“My dad’s in town,” I told him. The sound of my voice was rusty and strained, and it made me grimace. I wasn’t ready for a talk with him. I still felt shaken and… beaten. I wanted to feel stronger and more together when I faced him for the first time.

Jace made a sound and strode away from the bed. He snatched the ice bucket off the nearby counter, and the sound of the door opening made me crane my neck in time to see him exit without a shirt.

“You might want to put on some clothes before he gets there. We’ll be back in about thirty, maybe sooner.”

“Drive slow,” I implored.

“You doing okay, Joey? We’re worried,” Drew asked, obvious tension in his voice.

I felt a pang of guilt. I wasn’t used to people being worried. Before, shutting off my phone wasn’t something that required extra thought.

But now it did.

I had people who cared (more than just my father), people I didn’t necessarily want to avoid and make worry more.

“I’ve been better,” I said honestly, “but Jace had been really good to me.”

“It’s really hard to hate a guy when he’s so good to our two best friends,” Drew muttered.

Somewhere close by, Trent chuckled.

I smiled. “He’s a good person, Drew.”

“Yeah, I see that.”

“I’m sorry I made you worry. It wasn’t fair of me,” I whispered.

“Don’t apologize. You have a right to a timeout with your person. I wouldn’t have called, but I figured you’d want to know who was going to be at your door.”

“Thank you.” The sound of the door latching had me craning my neck again to watch Jace stride back into the room.

“We’ll talk soon, okay? You need anything, just call.”

My eyes filled with tears, much to my own admonishment. I’d hoped I was done crying today. “I really appreciate you both,” I told him, near whispering.

“We know,” Drew quipped, and I smiled. The split section of my lip pulled, and I grimaced.

After I punched the END CALL button on the screen, I dropped the cell in the sheets and looked up.

Jace was standing there with a towel wrapped in ice. “I don’t know where to put it first,” he admitted, eyes roaming my neck, face, and lip.

I held out my hand, and he surrendered it. I pressed it to my lip.

“My dad flew in.”

Jace nodded. “You ready for that?”

“No,” I admitted. Now that I’d had just a little practice not having to put on a steel front at all times, it was easier to say when I felt vulnerable.

He pushed a loose strand of hair away from my cheek. “Want me to stay while you talk to him?”

I shook my head. “No, but thanks.”

“I will if you want me to.”

I lowered the ice from my lip and smiled. “I know.”

After that, I grudgingly put on some clothes that weren’t Jace’s shirt and pulled my hair up once again because half of it had fallen out.

Jace went to Arrow’s room to give me some time alone with my father, but I admit the second I was alone, I wanted to call him back. I didn’t, though. This was a conversation that was solely between my father and me.

Not quite thirty minutes after Drew called, there was a solid knock on the door.

Standing on the inside, I felt my father’s presence even through the thick wooden layers. Ron Gamble was an imposing man, but he was my dad.

With one deep exhale, I pulled it open. He stood there looking a little less pulled together than I think I’d ever seen him. His suit was the usual tailored, expensive kind, but it was rumpled, like he’d been wearing it too long and was ready for a good dry cleaning. The silk black tie at his neck was askew and slightly loose. His gray hair was untidy, as if he’d been either running his hands through it or leaning against the seat in the plane.

Beyond that, it was the look in his eyes. The slightly harried, stressed look that overcame his usual steady, cool-as-a-cucumber expression.

“Dad,” I rasped. I swear my voice was worse now than earlier. It was like all the swelling and soreness had finally set in.

His eyes dropped to my throat. It was on full display thanks to the bun on my head, but either way, I figured it wouldn’t look good, so I chose to stay comfortable.

“I want an explanation, Josephine,” he responded, gruff. Slightly shocked he used my full name, I stepped back so he could stride inside. The lights were on to brighten up the room, and I’d pulled the covers up on the bed to hopefully hide the fact I’d been in it with Jace not so long ago.

“You didn’t have to fly here,” I told him.

He gave me a wilting look. “I saw the news coverage. Did you really think I would see my daughter on national TV, looking like a domestic dispute victim, and not come?”

I winced. So I looked that bad. Wonderful.

“Not to mention all the assault and hazing accusations and the fact that Lorhaven is all over the news with a bleeding, half-conscious driver of mine in his grip.”

“Dad…”

“You didn’t answer your phone, Josephine,” he went on, stern.

“I didn’t want to deal with the press.”

“Or me.” My father was never one to mince words. I wasn’t about to try and talk around his bluntness.

Instead of denying his words, I merely shrugged.

“Have I been that poor of a father?” he asked, a hint of weariness in his tone. It actually matched the way he appeared.

“What?” That caught me off guard. Shock rippled through me.

“Have I been so difficult to live with that you would rather put up with abuse than come to me?”

“You’re not difficult to live with,” I rebutted, a little bit of shame burning inside me. I never meant to imply he was a bad father; that’s not what any of this was about.

“Why did you say nothing?” He pressed.

“Because I wanted to show you I was stronger than anything they did.”

“What did they do, Josephine? I want names, and I want details.” Oh boy. He had that cool, calculating look in his eyes. The kind he always wore when he closed huge deals or was determined to get exactly what he wanted.

“Why? It won’t change anything.” I insisted.

“You can tell me now, or I’ll find out by other means,” he intoned.

I sank on the edge of the bed. I wanted Jace. I wasn’t exactly happy about it, but it didn’t change the fact I wanted some of the shelter I always felt with him.

I told my father. I spilled it all out. Even about the night I was harassed while naked and my brake line was cut.

He listened without a word. He moved to the window as I spoke and stared at the curtain marring the view of the night. I wondered if he even noticed he only stared at fabric, that the view was closed off. It seemed to me he was lost in the pictures my words conjured up… lost in vivid images the details conjured.

I tried to speak matter-of-factly. To just lay out the bare bones of the naked truth… but emotion clogged my throat as I, too, relived not only what happened tonight at the hands of Cannon, but during all the nights past.

When I was done talking, I fell silent and moved to get a fresh water to try and soothe my raw throat.

“Have you been to the doctor?” he asked, still staring at the mundane hotel curtain.

“I don’t need a doctor.”

“There could be damage to your vocal chords.” His voice was strained, as if he, too, had been choked.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not!” he yelled.

The sudden, powerful outburst made me jump. My father was a powerful man, but he never yelled. He never had to. He always got exactly what he wanted without ever raising his voice.

Yet he was yelling now.

Some of the water from the bottle spilled over the top and trickled down my hand. I wiped it away and looked up. He was facing me now, watching me with sharp, angry eyes.

His voice quieted as he took in all my injuries once more. “Cannon did all this to you?”

I nodded.

“He’ll never race again.” My father didn’t make empty statements. Four words and Dean Cannon’s fate was permanently sealed.

“He paid someone on the pit crew today to alter my car. That win today should have been mine. He took it from me.”

“This is the real reason you wanted to cross over so badly,” he stated.

I nodded.

My father’s eyes went flat. “You should have come to me.”

“And say what?” I burst out. “Oh, Dad, the guys at the club are being so mean to me. They don’t like girls. They don’t want me around.” I mocked. “What would you have done?” I pressed, jumping back to my feet. “You would have thought I was being weak just like everyone else.”

He lifted his chin to stare at me, sliding both hands in the pockets of his trousers. I saw the challenge in the set of his jaw, the stubbornness settling on his shoulders.

“I’m Joey for a reason, dad.” I began, feeling some defiance in me crumble. Maybe his defiance was stronger than mine.

Maybe I just didn’t have any left tonight.

“You never wanted a girl. I was a disappointment to you from the day I was born. I tried so hard to be what you wanted. I will never be a man, but I thought maybe if I grew into a strong enough woman, you might respect me just as much.”

His chin dropped some as I spoke, but now that I was talking, I wasn’t about to stop.