Whiplash: A Sports Romance (49 page)

“How do you two know each other, but
not
each other’s names?” I ask.

Fox sighs. “Is there somewhere more private we can talk, please?”

The girl nods. “Come back in a few minutes. My roommate has a class soon.”

“Thank you,” he says. She tries to give him the grocery bag, but he pushes it back to her before she cringes through the door.

“Fox…”

He grabs my arm and pulls me with him down the hall. “She’s a friend, Dani.”

“Why do you have a mysterious lady friend that looks just like me?” I watch his face, noticing the subtle twitches of guilt plaguing him. “Fox—”

He pauses near the elevators and flexes his jaw. “Because I thought I’d never see you again.”

There’s only one obvious conclusion to be made and it’s written all over his face.
“Ohhh…”
I whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

I stand up tall and shake my head. “It’s okay.”

“Is it?”

The red-headed girl passes by with a backpack and taps the call button on the elevator. I quickly slide my sunglasses back on. “It is. I get it,” I answer, waiting to go on until the elevator doors close and we’re alone again. “Do you really think she’ll help?”

“It’ll take some convincing, but yeah…”

“Good.” I take in his nervous face. “Have there been others like her…?”

“No,” he answers. “Just her.”

I bite my lip, not sure if I should ask more questions but I can’t stop myself. “Were you two…
together
, or—?”

“She’s a professional.”

I stare back at him until it sinks in.
“Ohhhh.”

“We should probably talk about this later,” he suggests.

“Of course, yeah. Task at hand.” Neither of us move, our eyes locked on each other in an awkward tug of war. A smile fights my lips, but I manage to keep it steady.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, his cheeks turning red.

“Nothing.” I look away. “Let’s go talk to her.”

Fox grabs my arm before I can walk away. “What do you want to know, Dani?”

I pause, letting my lips curl. “I knew there were Roxie Roberts impersonators. I just never thought there’d be, you know…
professionals
.”

“It’s an underground industry,” he chuckles. “Does it upset you?”

“Kind of flattering, actually…”

“Does it upset you that I…?”

I think for a moment. “No. Honestly, after the last few days,
this
is the least shocking thing I’ve encountered.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah.” A smile hits me again. “You told her your name was Channing Tatum?”

He rolls his eyes and tugs my arm. “Come on.”

“I can’t wait to tell him about this,” I joke. Fox glares at me out of the corner of his eyes before knocking on her door again.

It opens instantly and Darla’s eyes shift between us. She gestures us inside and closes the door, locking it with a swift flick of her wrist.

***

“So, I just have to stand there?” Darla asks with her head hanging down into her bathroom sink. I stand over her with plastic gloves, running my fingers through her hair as black dye water spills down the white, porcelain drain.

“And don’t speak either,” Fox says from the connected dorm room. “Your voices are pretty different…”

I catch him glancing inside but he quickly looks away, pretending that he wasn’t just sneaking a peek at her tight, push-up bra. He probably wasn’t but I don’t mind teasing him about it. The shame on his face is just too adorable for words. “Are we sure this is going to work?” I ask. “Mercer isn’t stupid.”

“No, but it’s the only idea I have.”

I turn off the water and Darla wraps a towel around her hair. “And you weren’t kidding about it being a bad one…” I peel the gloves off and toss them into the trash below the sink.

“Dani…”

“I mean…” I step into the dorm to face him and point back at Darla. “This part will probably be fine. It’s the
other part
that’s got me nervous.”

“You can do this, Dani.”

“You don’t know that.” I fight the butterflies causing havoc in me already.

“You’ve done it before.”

“I’ve shot
targets
before,” I argue.

“It’s the same thing. I know how that sounds, but it’s true.”

I take a deep breath but it does nothing to calm my nerves. “Think she knows any boy prostitutes that look like
you
instead?”

“I am not a prostitute!” Darla shouts from the bathroom. “I prefer the term
escort
.”

“Sorry,” I say.

She pokes her damp head out and her short, black hair falls over her eyes. “It’s okay. And to answer the question: No, I don’t know any.” She flicks on her hairdryer and disappears again.

Fox lays his hands on my shoulders as I heave a thick sigh. “Dani, look at me.” I do as he says, peeling my eyes off the floor. “You can do this. I trust you.”

“What if I miss?” I ask.

“Then you try again.”

“But what if—”

“Dani—” He moves his hands to my cheeks. “I know you’re scared—”

“Understatement.”

“I will not let anything happen to you,” he says, holding my eyes. “Say it.”

“You won’t let anything happen to me.”

“Or me!” Darla shouts from the bathroom.

“Or
you
,” he says, his eyes flicking towards her once before coming back to me. “You just have to slow him down. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Let’s just pretend all this goes well,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “We haven’t really talked about what happens
after
…”

He drops his gaze for a brief, but noticeable, second. “No matter what happens, I will get you and our parents home alive.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you.”

“I know.”

The hairdryer shuts off and Darla steps into the room. “How do I look?” She throws up her arms and poses in the doorway. Jet black hair. Cherry red lips. A white bandage across her left cheek to hide the lack of stitches. Just like me in almost every way.

I nod and force a smile. “You look like Roxie Roberts.”

She snatches my sunglasses off her desk and slides them up her nose. “Tell me something I don’t know,” she quips.

“We should get going,” Fox says.

I look back at him, disappointed that he won’t answer my question but I’m not sure why I ever expected him to in the first place. Honestly, I’m not even sure if I’m prepared for his answer.

***

I lie down on my stomach and press the butt of the rifle into my shoulder.

“Now look through the scope,” Fox says in my ear. I feel him shift down to the floor beside me on my right. “You should be able to see the bottle pretty close.” He lays a hand on my back and warm goosebumps break out on my spine.

“I see it,” I say, squinting through the scope. The empty beer bottle sits in the middle of the gravel driveway across the field.

“Put your finger on the trigger.”

My knuckles twitch as I lay my right index finger against it.

“Line up your shot,” he continues, his voice smooth as butter. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Fire at the end your breath.”

The bottle shakes back and forth in the scope. I remember his words and take a long inhale to calm my quaking nerves. I push it out—

“Slowly.”

I halt my exhale halfway and force it to back in to try again. His hand moves up my back an inch, shooting fresh warmth throughout my body. I breathe in and slowly exhale until it’s all the way out.

I pull the trigger and the bullets strikes the white gravel several feet away from the bottle.

“I missed,” I say, frowning.

“Reload.”

I grab the bolt and pull back. The empty casing flies free and I push the bolt back in to load a second round. “I remember being better than this.”

“You’re nervous,” he says. “You don’t have to get it perfect.”

“I just have to hit a moving target from across a corn field. Yeah, no problem…”

Fox grips my shoulder and rolls me onto my back towards him. “Dani…” he whispers, hovering over me. “There is no doubt in my mind that you can do this.”

A gust of cool wind strikes my pink face from the open window of the barn. “I feel sick…”

“I know but you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m not worried about me.” He raises his brow. “Okay, I’m a
little
worried about me — but I’m more worried about you.”

Fox sighs and traces a finger along my cheekbone. “I’ll be all right, Dani.” He leans closer to me.

“Fox—” He pauses above me, our lips barely touching. “Don’t kiss me if it’s the last time you ever will.”

He does it anyway. His lips press against mine; firm and passionate. Desire still lingers on his breath, the same kind I tasted on him last night in his bed. “Dani…” he whispers. “Be brave, for me.”

I close my eyes, focusing all of my energy on his voice. It’s easy to lose myself in it and it’s all I want to do right now. “I just have to slow him down.”

“That’s right,” he says. “We have the advantage. They won’t know you’re out here until it’s too late.”

I take another long, deep breath. “Okay.”

He leans back and glances across the field towards the farmhouse. “I should get over there. It’s almost noon.”

My breath knocks around my chest. I’m not ready to let him go yet. “Fox—”

He takes my hand and brings it to his lips.
“Be brave,”
he whispers, his breath tingling my fingertips. “And, you know, don’t accidentally shoot me.”

I laugh even though I shouldn’t. “I make no guarantees.”

Fox pushes off the floor and slides down the ladder to the ground. He walks out of the barn and looks back at me with a smile.

Be brave
.

He says it like it’s so easy, like it’s just flipping a switch on and off. I never considered myself a courageous person. I’m an actress. I have stunt girls and special effects to make me look cool but none of it is real in the end. It’s all just make-believe.

I lay my hand on my heart. It thumps against my palm like a pair of hummingbird wings, never ceasing for a moment. It’s all just a machine in there. Machines can be studied and controlled. I’m the master of my machine. I have the will to say whether or not I’m scared or brave.

I am Roxie fucking Roberts.

Scratch that. I am
Dani fucking Roberts
. Fox trusts her. He believes in her and dammit, I do, too.

I look through the scope and take aim at the bottle with my finger on the trigger.

Fire at the end of your breath.

The bullet strikes the bottle and it shatters along the driveway into a dozen pieces.

Chapter 19

Fox

That’s my girl.

I step across the driveway and kick the broken bottle bits into the grass. No sense in leaving them there for Mercer to see.

“Well, that was impressive.” Darla slides back and forth in the rocking chair on the porch.

I nod and glance across the field. “She’s a quick study.”

She chews on her lip, staring at me over the top of Dani’s sunglasses. “So, turns out… I was
completely
wrong about you.”

I smile. “Think so?”

“This isn’t narcissism at all,” she says. “This is something else
entirely
.”

I step up onto the porch and bend over to grab my black duffel off the bench. “Well, go on. Don’t leave me hanging here.”

“I can’t!” she laughs. “Your issues are
way
out of my league.”

“Good.” I reach into the bag for Caleb’s revolver and pop it open to reload. “It’ll make it easier for you to forget about.”

“Forget?” she asks. “Please, I’m going to remember this until the day I die.”

“Of all people, I don’t think I have to explain the value of discretion to
you
, Darla.”

“Oh, of course. You’re a former assassin in love with his super famous stepsister that paid an escort who looks just like her for sex. I completely understand why you wouldn’t want that getting out…” Her voice trails off into a chuckle. “The last person I want to piss off is a contract killer, am I right?”

“Right.”

She scans me with nervous eyes. “But you’d never, you know…
kill me
, right? You’re retired.” I pick up the duffel bag.
“Right?”

I leave the question dangling while her face turns white and I step inside the house. Mrs. Clark sits in her chair in the living room with Sammy lingering next to her feet. He doesn’t move from his place but he keeps his eyes on me as I move into the room.

“He’s not growling,” I note. “I guess that’s progress.”

“Well, after seeing you beaten and bloodied, I bet he views you quite differently,” she says. “An animal can’t see what’s inside. He can only smell what’s on the outside. Now, he knows you’re as fragile as the rest of us.”

“I could have told him that,” I joke.

“He’s a stupid dog. What do you expect?”

I smile and look at my feet. “I’m sorry about bringing you into this, Mrs. Clark. I had no right—”