Whiplash: A Sports Romance (66 page)

Chapter 10

Start Over

“Shit.”

I hear Tobias’ voice on the wind and glance up to see Charlie’s truck parked next to the house. He must have heard the sound of the motorbike coming up the driveway. He’s there, standing on the porch with his arms crossed over his body, waiting for us as Tobias’ pulls up next to the barn.

“Uh-oh,” I mutter. I pull the helmet off my head and lay it down on the bike’s seat.

“Just let me do the talking,” Tobias says.

We step away from the barn together and walk across the driveway towards the house.

“An afternoon joyride isn’t exactly what I meant when I told you to stay put, Claire,” Charlie says to me.

“It wasn’t a joyride,” Tobias replies.

“Then where’d you go?”

“I took her to see Mary.”

Charlie pauses. “And why did you do that?”

“Seemed like a better idea than leaving her here by herself.”

“And I told you to stay away from her.” Tobias says nothing back and Charlie’s eyes fall on me. “Get inside, Claire. Go to your room and stay there.”

I move quickly up the porch and walk inside, glancing over my shoulder at Tobias while I go.

“What happened to your neck?” Charlie asks him as I step inside. I linger near the stairs, managing to stay within earshot and out of sight.

“Factory equipment malfunction,” Tobias explains. “I didn’t dodge in time. It’s fine.”

The answer seems to be satisfying enough for Charlie, as he asks nothing more about his bruising. I hear his boots on the porch and quickly bolt up the stairs to hide in my doorway.

“I know it’s difficult, being under the same roof and all,” Charlie begins, his voice carrying from the kitchen, “but I asked you to leave Claire alone for a reason.”

“I know.”

“It’s my job to
protect
her, Tobias. I can’t do that if I don’t know where she is at all times.”

“She never left my sight the entire time. But she had questions — reasonable ones.”

“And you thought you’d just spill the family beans without clearing it with me first?”

“I thought she had a right to know whose bed she sleeps in, yes.”

Charlie sighs and slides a chair out to sit down at the table. I step closer to the stairs as their voices get lower. “Well, how did that go?” he asks.

“About how you’d expect,” Tobias says. “I think it hit pretty close to home for her.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You know what.”

“It’s not—” Tobias pauses. “I wasn’t there for Mary, but I can be there for her.”

“Tobias… it doesn’t work like that. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened to her.”

“I think there’s plenty of blame to go around for everybody involved, don’t you?”

“Even so, Claire ain’t Mary.”

“I know,” Tobias says. “But she’s close enough.”

He enters the living room with quick feet and I fall back to my room, watching him as he steps outside onto the front porch and across the driveway. I sit down on the bed and look out the window. Tobias slides the barn door open and disappears inside without looking back.

Charlie’s boots sound up the stairs. I sit back and wait, dreading the inevitable and horrible moments to come.

He leans against the doorway and chews on his lip. “I suppose you heard most of that,” he says.

I shrug.

“You came into a very complicated household here, Claire,” he says. “The good Lord hasn’t been particularly kind to us over the years.”

“Is he ever?” I ask.

His eyebrows bounce. “Sometimes.” He reaches behind his back and pulls Tobias’ music player from his pocket. “I found this under your pillow,” he says before tossing it onto the bed.

I scoff. “You’re searching my bed now?”

“It’s my bed, you just sleep in it.”

“Because that’s not rude or anything…”

“Where’d you get it?” he asks me.

“It’s Tobias’,” I answer.

“I know. How did you get it?”

“He gave it to me. Just ask him.”

He sighs. “I don’t need to.” His eyes, soft and warmer than I thought they’d be, stare down at me. “Claire, I was a cop for over twenty years.”

“So?”

“So, there’s not a whole lot I don’t notice,” he says. “I notice that when you barely sleep, you sneak out at night and hide out in my barn. I even notice when my truck has magically shifted a few inches away from where I last parked it.”

I look to the floor, obviously confirming any suspicions he has of my activities.

“And I notice…” he pauses, “that my son is smiling again for the first time in months.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” I tell him. “You told me to stay away from him and I didn’t.”

“As the man tasked with setting you straight, I’m a tad bit perturbed at that, but… as his father, I’m kind of happy you didn’t.” He brushes a hand through the air. “I don’t need to know the details of your relationship because it ain’t my business—”

“There’s nothing to tell—”

He holds up his hand to silence me. “But
obviously
, the two of you have gotten through to each other in ways I couldn’t and I guess that’s fine.” I take a deep breath, surprised by his reaction. “You trust him.”

“I do.”

“Good,” he says. “I’ve known quite a few girls in my time, ones a lot like you, Claire, and
trust
is really hard for them to come by after what they’ve been through.” I look up at him and swallow the rock in my throat back down. “Do you want to talk about what you saw today?” he asks.

I flash back to Mary’s cold, pale face. “Not really,” I say.

He nods. “Did you learn anything?”

“Drugs are bad,” I mutter.

“Good girl.” He pushes off the doorway. “Every day, I wish that my daughter knew that, too.”

“Well, if she was anything like me, she knew. She just didn’t care.” I look back at him and he gives a short, understanding smile. “Charlie—” He pauses in the door frame. “It wasn’t a banana peel.”

“I know.” He says nothing else before walking back down the stairs.

***

I step into the barn and make quick strides towards the punching bag in the corner. The setting sun casts an orange glow over everything, but the serene feeling it offers me is quickly struck down by everything awful I feel inside of me. Anger, fear, frustration. You name it, and I’m feeling it right now. The world is a cruel and unfair place. The things I’ve been through — or rather, the things I’ve put myself through for no damn reason — don’t compare to what’s happened to Tobias or Charlie. I’m selfish and deeply stupid, but I don’t want to be.

I roll my hands into fists and slam them into the punching bag over and over again.

“Protect your face.”

I spin around and look up to see Tobias sitting in the loft, laying against the hay bales near the window. The light of the world casts shadows across his beautiful face, but even that’s not enough to distract me right now. “What are you doing up there?” I ask with annoyance.

He shrugs. “I come up here to think sometimes. This was Mary’s favorite place when we were kids.”

I sigh and turn back to the bag. “I suppose that’s yet another thing I’ve done since I got here that’s reminded you of your sister.” I punch the bag. Hard. “Isn’t that just
great
?”

“Claire—”

“Not really looking for pointers, Tobias.”

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks calmly.

“There’s nothing
wrong with me
,” I fume. Each punch feels more painful against my soft knuckles, but I keep going. “I just feel like hitting something right now.”

“Why?”

“Why the hell not?!”

“Does he know you’re out here?”

“I don’t care.” I lash out with a flurry of sloppy punches and kicks.

The noise thumps so loudly in my ears, I don’t even hear Tobias come down from the loft. “Claire—” he palms my fist mid-air and easily holds it steady, even when I try to pull it away. “Stop.”

“No!” I shout. I pull my hand away and he releases it. “I don’t want to
stop
. I don’t want to slow down. I want to keep moving because if I don’t, then it just hurts more.”

Tobias moves behind the punching bag and holds it steady for me. “What hurts more?” he asks.

“Everything,”
I answer. I swing forward and the satisfying smack reverberates up my arm, fueling the next punch. My heart pounds in my ears. The quick thumping sound gives me a rhythm to match with each punch I throw. “I feel like such an idiot…”

“You’re not an idiot.”

“Yeah, well, what would you call someone that willingly ruins their life for stupid reasons?”

“Human.”

I pause and roll my eyes at him.
“Cute,”
I bite. I spin around in a circle to gain momentum before backhanding the bag.

“Nice hit,” he says.

“Don’t do that—” I say. “I’m not looking for compliments right now.”

“What are you looking for?”

I let a punch linger on the bag and I hold it there while I catch my breath. “I don’t know anymore. I thought I knew. I thought I had it all figured out for me, but… I really am just a kid, aren’t I?”

“You’ll outgrow that,” he smiles.

I punch the bag again, this time striking it with slower hits as my arms start to tire. “There’s always someone out there that has it worse off.”

“That doesn’t make what you’re feeling any less valid, Claire.”

“You sound like Charlie now.”

“There are worse things in the world,” he jokes.

I lower my arms. “Me and Mary. Rick and Pike — it’s all the same.”

“It’s not the same,” he whispers.

“Seems pretty similar.”

He abandons the bag and steps closer to me. “Then change it,” he says. “Start over. Be someone better.”

“How?” I ask him.

His fingers take my hand and he begins rubbing the red rashes forming along my knuckles. My skin twitches and the pain spikes with each firm rub he gives me. “Stay here,” he says.

“Stay here?” I parrot back.

“Yes.”

“I can’t stay here.”

“Why not? Your birthday is next week. You said you’re going to go back to Chicago, but if you ask me, that’s not what you really want anymore.”

I pull my hand away from him. “You don’t know what I want, Tobias.”

“Then what do you want, Claire?”

I bite my bottom lip. I can taste the words on my tongue, sweet and satisfying, but I can’t bring myself to say them out loud. “I want to go back inside now,” I whisper. I step around him.

Tobias grabs me quickly and spins us around to set me against the wooden ladder to the loft. My vision blurs, so overwhelmed by the sudden movement that it makes me dizzy. I feel weightless in his strong arms, completely under his control. “Claire,” he says. “What do you want?”

Every nerve in my body quivers against him as he holds me with ease. “Why are you doing this, Tobias?” I ask him. “One minute, you say you can’t touch me, and the next—”

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.” A low growl teases me on the edge of his quiet tone. “I saw you… standing in her room and I felt
alive
, Claire. I touched you and I haven’t been able to sit still since.”

“Then why stop?” I tremble. “Why not just take what you want?”

“I’m not that kind of man,” he says with heavy breath. “I won’t try to take from you what he did.” He grip softens and he takes a slow step back.

“What if I give it to you?” I ask, leaning forward into his arms again.

“If that’s what you want, Claire…” he says, “then I will be there for you, but we have to do this right.”

I step back. “You want to wait.”

He nods. “It’s the right thing to do.”

I bite my lips with frustration. They want so badly to feel him against them, to feel the bite of his teeth and the caress of his tongue. My mouth waters. My senses quiver. He’s so close. I could taste him right now if I wanted to, but I know he’s right. It may be the right thing, but it feels so very wrong. “Okay,” I whisper against my will.

His hands move down my body, but he fights his own temptations and steps away from me.