Captivated (13 page)
Authors: Susan Scott Shelley
Champ yipped and barked
and sped around them in circles.
She twisted around and
faced Dom and pushed against his chest.
“Let go.”
“Then listen to me!”
And damn it, the tears
spilled over. She shoved with all her strength. A howling heavy weight slammed
into her legs, knocking her off balance. She flung out her arms and connected
with Dom
’s
face. His head snapped back. Pain rushed into her hands.
He swore and released
her, his hands flying to his head.
She backed away and fled
for the door. Purse in hand, she ran into the hall and onto the waiting
elevator. The doors closed as Dom came into view, holding his head and dripping
with blood.
FOURTEEN
Dusty walked toward him,
travel bag in tow. He stopped and stared.
“Another fight?
Seriously? What the hell?”
Dom opened his mouth to
speak, but even that small movement stung his lip.
His manager held up his
hands.
“No.
I don’t even want to hear your excuse. You’re done. You’re not playing
tomorrow, that’s for sure. Wait in the locker room. I need to find Ramon.”
Heat flushed through his
body and clawed through his gut. He slammed the door open and strode into the
locker room. Slade
’s brows rose. He nudged Adam and both men
came over.
“You look like shit. What
happened?” Slade sat beside him.
What the hell was he
going to say? That his girlfriend
’s fists landed in his
face after his panicking dog made her trip? Who would believe that story?
Adam sat on his other side.
“Bar
fight? Mugged? You should have called me.”
Dom licked painful lips.
“I
didn’t fight. I wasn’t mugged. It was an accident.”
More of the guys crowded
around him and more than a few murmurs about how he ended up with the shiner
circulated.
“What kind of accident?”
Slade nudged his side.
Ramon and Dusty came into
the room. Dusty glared at him and raised his voice.
“Everyone
out. We need to talk to Torres.”
Adam and Slade tapped Dom
on the back. He met every player
’s stare as they filed
out of the room. When they were alone, Dom rose, eye to eye with the men.
Dusty folded his arms
across his chest.
“You’re not coming on the trip. You’re
benched for both series.”
The series against the
Storm—his hometown team—always drew a lot of supporters for him. His parents
and extended family had purchased tickets, almost enough to buy out an entire
section. To miss a game there due to sickness was one thing. But to be benched
…he’d
be labeled an embarrassing disappointment.
“I can explain.” They
might not believe him, but he’d tell the truth.
“Save it.”
Ramon held out a piece of
paper.
“I
registered you for an intensive anger management course that runs four days
this week.”
“Anger management? I
don’t need that.”
“Dom, this isn’t
negotiable. You’ll take the course or you won’t play for me. I’m trying to help
you, son.”
Trying to help, but they
weren
’t
willing to listen. He opened his mouth, but what else was there to say? He
accepted the paper.
Dusty shook his head.
“You’re
not a clueless rookie, so stop acting like one.”
Ramon tapped the paper.
“Try
to get something out of this. I’ll see you in my office on the fourteenth.
They’ll give you a certificate of completion. Bring that with you.”
“Fine.”
“Go on home, now. We have
to hit the road.”
Leaving the facility
behind, walking past the buses, and seeing his teammates on board, bile rose in
his throat. His feet resisted continuing on to his truck. Damn it, he belonged
on that bus. Anger carried him to his door and propelled his way home.
His phone rang as he
walked through his front door.
Mom Cell.
Great.
But better to break the news to her rather than deal with his dad.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie. We can’t
wait to see you tomorrow night. Most of the family will be there. Your aunts,
uncles, cousins, and their kids are coming, and I invited people from work and
church. We’re all wearing our Torres t-shirts. You’ll have the loudest cheering
section in the entire stadium.”
Shit.
“I’m
not making the trip with the team.”
“Why? Are you sick? Did
you get hurt?”
How much did she need to
know?
“They
extended my suspension today.”
“Why? Oh, honey, I’m
sorry. I know how much you must want to be back on the field. Your dad’s right
here. Let me put him on.”
“No, Mom. I don’t need to
talk to Dad.” He slammed his fist onto the kitchen counter.
Muffled voices came
through the line and then his father
’s voice boomed out.
“What did you do? They wouldn’t extend the suspension without a reason. What
the hell happened now? Another fight?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t want to talk
about it.”
“You have
responsibilities to your teammates, your franchise, and your fans. What the
hell good are you doing them if you’re away from the game?”
“You’re right.”
“How long are you out?”
“Both series against the
Storm and Bolts.”
“You’re screwed if your
replacement is better at your job than you were.”
“I know.” Not to mention
that he was probably already on a lot of his teammates’ and fans’ shit lists.
His head throbbed. “Listen, Dad. I have to go.”
“You better get your head
out of your ass pretty fast, boy.”
“Thanks for the support,”
Dom muttered. But the line had already gone dead.
Irisa
dug through a box of wristbands. Irritation pricked along her skin.
“These
were supposed to be sorted according to color. And instead they send an entire
freaking rainbow in one box.” She dumped the contents onto the dressing room
couch.
“You’re going to sort two
hundred wristbands into separate color piles in the hour before we’re due
onstage?” Brendan plopped down beside her.
“Someone has to. If you
want something done right, you apparently have to do it yourself.”
He raised his brows.
“I’ll
help.”
As she worked, two
guitars played the opening riffs of
“Cut Down”. She closed
her eyes. Damn it, not that song. Brendan joined in drumming on the table next
to the couch. Zander and Landry played faster and faster, and her nerves strung
higher and higher. Blocking out the song didn’t work. She dropped the bands and
stood. “Do you have to play that song?”
The notes stopped.
She paced the room, ready
to crawl out of her skin.
“And where is Jayne? She should be
here helping.”
“Relax.” Luke stood and
rolled his shoulders. “She’s out picking up some stuff for us.”
“Well, she should have
cleared it with me before she left.” She kicked an empty water bottle. It
skittered across the floor and hit the side of the trash can. “Really? You
can’t even throw your trash away? I’m tired of playing maid.”
Zander shoved off the
couch.
“What’s
eating you?”
“Nothing. Is it too much
to ask that you guys clean up after yourselves?”
“That’s it. Everyone out.
My sister and I need to have a talk.” The guys left without complaint, giving
her a wide berth. Zander shut the door, then turned to her. “What’s going on?
You’ve been snapping at us all day.”
“I’m allowed to have a
bad day or a bad mood. You guys don’t have a patent on those.”
“No.” He shook his head.
“This is way more than that. You’ve been acting weird since we met at the
airport on Saturday. Three days of constant crabbiness isn’t like you. Are you
sick? Did Oliver do something? Did Dom?”
She
’d
been desperately glad for the road trip, unable to stomach the thought of
facing Dom or listening to his lies. She bit her lip, wanting to spill
everything. But humiliation that she’d let it happen again kept her quiet. “I’m
sorry. I’ll pull myself together.”
He touched her shoulder.
“What
the hell is going on?”
“Dom…” Her chest hurt.
Inhaling a deep breath, she rubbed her hands over her face.
“Shit. I knew it. Did he
hurt you? Do I need to kick his ass?”
“No. Well. I don’t know.”
“Tell me what happened.”
His growl prompted her to talk.
“He had his ex’s demo…if
she is even his ex…addressed to me. I think he was waiting for the right time
to hand it over.” Probably after a bout of sex, when she was high on endorphins
and low on functioning brain cells.
“People have asked you to
pass along demos before. Yeah, it’s weird that it’s his ex, but…” He shrugged.
“I found it in his
bedroom, under one of his shirts that stunk of perfume and was smeared with
lipstick.” She left out the part about finally sleeping with Dom.
“Oh.” His eyes narrowed
and his hands formed fists. “Did you talk to him about it?”
“He denied everything.
But what else would he say?” Dragging her hand through her hair, she walked to
the other side of the room. “This is almost like Oliver all over again. Pretending
to be interested in me. Using me. We’re both traveling a lot. I don’t know what
Dom’s doing when we’re apart. He could’ve been seeing her the entire time we’ve
been together. Oliver lied to my face. Why not Dom?”
“I told him not to hurt
you.”
“I’m done with
relationships. Done. I was so stupid, thinking that he really cared, that he…”
She stopped talking, throat thick.
“Hey.” Zander wrapped her
in a hug. “You’re not stupid. He is.”
Her laugh sounded as
brittle as her heart felt.
“Or he’s enterprising. Just like the
others.”
“When we get back home,
I’ll kick his ass.” His solemn expression promised vengeance.
“Please don’t. I don’t
want to give him or the situation any more attention.” The wound smarted like a
Band-Aid ripped off too soon.
“I couldn’t kick Oliver’s
because I didn’t find out about what the fucker had done until after he’d been
handling the band. So I’m overdue. No one messes with my sister.”
“I’ll be all right. And I
don’t want any more fighting. The Fury has been in the media for too many wrong
reasons lately. I want you guys to mellow out. Please. You’re all I have.”
“You’ll always have us,
as messed up and dysfunctional as we are.” He patted her hair.
“I know.” That didn’t
help the aching loneliness. She sniffed back tears. Crying hadn’t solved
anything in the past few days. More tears wouldn’t help now. Not everyone was
promised a fairy tale and she’d been stupid to think that something special
could develop with Dom.
FIFTEEN
On
Monday evening, Dom flicked on the TV, ready to watch his teammates take on
Sacramento. The media was having a field day with the team
’s
statement on his status.
Suspended for further conduct
detrimental to the team and is seeking treatment
.
Fuck. That sounded so much worse. He muted the volume and then rested his head
on the back of the couch. His eye hurt, his lip hurt, and Irisa hadn
’t
answered his call or returned his text.
Life sucked.
Champ let out a bark and
raced to the front door. Which could only mean one thing—company. And it wouldn
’t
be Irisa, because the band had a show in San Francisco. And since it wasn’t
Irisa, he didn’t much care. But he pushed to his feet. Liam was the only person
who had a key and could bypass the building’s security. And sure enough, his
friend was on the other side of the door.
Liam lifted a brow as he
studied Dom
’s face. “How’s the other guy look?”
“Funny.” He stepped back
to allow him entrance.
After greeting Champ,
Liam stood.
“So, what happened?”
“With what?”
“Come on, dude. Your eye.
The busted lip.”
“I wasn’t in a fight.”
“Okay. Then did something
fall on you? Did you use your face as a catcher’s mitt?” He stepped closer and
lowered his voice to a whisper. “Or did Champ do it?”
Dom cracked a smile. The
movement stung his lip.
“Man, you’re crazy.” But his friend cared,
and he was tired of hiding the real story. “Might as well grab a beer and a
seat. This’ll take a while.”
They sat on the couch,
and while his teammates took turns at the plate, he relayed Natalie
’s
visit and Irisa’s experience with Oliver. Liam just listened. “So, Irisa finds
the demo and the shirt I had on when I saw Nat. You remember how much perfume
she wears? The shirt reeked. Irisa got really upset, thinking I was cheating on
her. She’s freaking out and trying to leave, and I’m trying to hold on to her
and explain, and Champ’s running around us, going nuts because we’re yelling.
He slams into her while she’s pulling away from me, and she flings out her arms
to regain her balance. Those damn rings she wears cut into my face, and her
other fist did this.” He pointed to his eye.
Liam slowly shook his
head, a grin forming on his lips, and then his laugher rang out, echoing around
the large room.
“It’s not funny.” Dom
scowled at him.
“Sorry.” Liam gestured to
Dom with his beer. “But you have to admit if it didn’t happen to you, it would
be funny.”
“She dumped me and I’m
suspended. So, tell me, when does this get funny?”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” Liam
immediately sobered. “She dumped you?”
“She didn’t believe I
didn’t have ulterior motives.”
“That sucks.”
“No kidding.” It ticked
him off all over again, and he didn’t have a clue how to make it right. But he
was glad he wasn’t alone with his thoughts anymore. He needed the distraction
of Liam and his humor. “You staying to watch the rest of the game?”
“Sure. Seeing what the
other mascots are doing is always good.” He settled on the floor with Champ.
“Dusty blew a gasket when he saw you, huh?”
“Didn’t want to hear any
explanations. I could’ve been mugged for all he knew. Ramon wasn’t any better.
And their statement makes it sound like I have serious problems.”
“Well, to them, you do.”
Dom grunted and drank his
beer. The most serious problem of all was getting Irisa to give him a chance to
explain. Short of planting himself in front of her door and making her listen,
he didn
’t
have any ideas. And he couldn’t even do that one because the band was out of
town.
On screen, his teammates
took the field. Andrew Nokes filled in for him at center field. Annoyance
slithered and then coiled, turning his blood hot.
His
role.
His
spot.
His
team.
The following morning,
his mood was as dark as the coffee in his travel mug. Thanks to awful traffic,
he entered the room for the anger management classes a few minutes late. People
looked up when he entered and he slid into the first open chair he saw, at the
back, and close to the door.
An older man, with
graying hair and glasses, stood at the front of the room.
“I’m
Dr. Williamson. Let’s start by making introductions. Tell us your first name
and why you’re here.” He began with a woman on the opposite side of the room.
Dom slid down lower in
his seat. His presence didn
’t reflect well on the team. He’d
always prided himself on being the best player he could be, the best teammate,
and a man worthy of putting on the uniform and representing the club in the
community. What if his charity suffered because of his actions? At that moment,
the person he was most angry with was himself.
Finally, his turn came.
He straightened.
“I’m Dom. I’m here because my boss sent
me.”
Dr. Williamson
’s
gaze rose to Dom’s left eye. Damn shiner. Damn bad luck. The ball cap he’d worn
helped to hide the black eye, but not completely enough. “Problems at work?”
“Something like that.”
The doctor nodded.
“Feel
free to share as much or as little as you’d like this week.”
A few people on the other
side of the room spoke in whispers and he heard his name. Dom leaned back in
his chair and listened to Dr. Williamson
’s soothing tone.
It was going to be a hell
of a long week.
By the end of the last
class on Friday afternoon, he didn
’t want to admit it, but
the classes were helping. As he’d worked through the exercises and listened to
the doctor and other members of the group, he’d realized a few things. He
wasn’t really an angry person, not like some of the class participants.
Situations did set him
off, namely every conversation with his father, and he couldn
’t
allow that to continue. Not that he had any idea how to broach the subject.
Every scenario he pictured ended badly.
And he missed Irisa.
Really missed her. He found himself looking for her in the pub each night, even
though he knew she wasn
’t in town. He’d tried her calling one
more time. No luck. Knowing that she’d thought he’d lied, that he’d used her,
gutted him.
He picked up his
certificate of completion and shook Dr. Williamson
’s
hand.
“I hope you found this
course to be helpful.”
He nodded.
“A
lot more than I thought I would. Thanks.”
Her
parents
’ choice of restaurant hadn’t changed in years. Irisa
studied the floral pattern in the wallpaper, likely as old as the place itself.
She downed her second cup of coffee and signaled for a third. As exhausted as
she was, nothing would have kept her from flying home with Zander to spend
Mother’s Day with her parents.
Her mom sat across the
brunch table.
“All of my friends have grandbabies now. I’m the only
one who doesn’t. No pressure, but I don’t want to be too old to play with or
hold my own grandchild.”
No pressure. Sure. The
conversation, one they had often, had never bothered her, until now. She
’d
always laughed it off, but it wasn’t funny anymore.
Zander shrugged, not
swayed by guilt, and stuck with his favorite line.
“You
have Shredder.”
A frown formed on her mom
’s
lips. “Your dog does not count.” She turned to Irisa. “You aren’t getting any
younger.”
The fresh coffee in her
hand didn
’t lessen her frustration. “We give birth to rock
albums. You can gush to your friends about that.” She looked to her dad for
assistance, but he hid a smile and dug into his eggs.
Her mother
’s
hand covered hers. “Don’t you want to find a nice man to settle down with? And
Zander, you need a woman to take care of you. Don’t you want to have families?
My friends have some nice sons and daughters; maybe we could set up—”
“Mom. No. Just no.” Irisa
gritted her teeth and smiled at the waitress refilling their water glasses.
“Disaster. Fiasco. Take your pick. Not happening.”
“Yeah. No way.” Zander
murmured a thanks to the waitress and earned a refill on his coffee, too.
“Leave them be. They’re
young. They’re good kids. They have plenty of time.” Finally, her dad stepped
in.
“Can’t you be happy
knowing we’re happy with the way things are?” Appetite gone, she pushed her
chocolate waffles around her plate.
“You’re not happy. I can
see it in your face.”
“Maybe I’m just tired of
having this same conversation.” After all her parents had sacrificed for her
and Zander, she wanted to make them happy, but listening to talk about finding
a good man hurt too much. The situation with Dom consumed her thoughts, a cruel
taunting tease of love.
He
’d
called her and left a voice mail and a text asking her to call him. What was
the point? She wasn’t going to play into his charade.
“Our girl works so hard.
Maybe she’s worried about the tour.” Her dad’s forehead wrinkled and he
observed her over the top of his glasses. “Is that it?”
“Yes, that’s it.” She
grasped on to the suggestion. It wasn’t a lie. Worrying about the guys, the
fights, and their moods was a constant. But if her mood didn’t change, she’d be
subjected to more questions, and making her parents worry was the last thing
she wanted to do.
Zander
’s
foot nudged her calf under the table. He knew the truth. “We’ll get through it.
Team effort, right?”
Her dad relaxed in his
chair and reached for her mom
’s hand. “See? You did a good job
with these two. They know the importance of family.”
“But if she’s worried,
she’s not taking care of herself, and then she’s not going to be able to do her
job well.” Her mom set her tea aside. “She looks exhausted.”
Irisa pasted a smile on
her face.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry. You know I never let family
down.”
After brunch, she drove
to the drugstore to buy eye cream, concealer, and an eye mask to combat the
circles and puffiness under her eyes. She
’d fix her face and
convince her parents she was fine. Driving was easier since she’d ditched the
wrap bandage. Her wrist had healed just fine.
Colorful balloons tied to
an
open house
sign caught her attention. Coming to a stop at a crossroad
she didn
’t
recognize, she swore. A drifting mind while driving wasn’t good.
Several cars were parked
in front of the sign. She stepped out of the car and gazed up at a mansion
adorned with charming gardens. Curious, she followed a few people up the
winding path and through the front door. Large windows, hardwood floors, and a
wide, sweeping staircase straight out of a nineteen-thirties movie. Calmness
settled over her like a soft blanket. The house needed some work, but she could
imagine the finished product.
Exploring every room took
time, and more and more, the house felt like hers. She picked up a realtor
’s
card on her way out the door.
…I’ll settle for the
staircase…
Maybe she could have part
of her fairy tale after all.
Slade clapped him on the
shoulder.
“Welcome back.”
Adam joined him at his
locker.
“Good
to have you back, man.”
“Good to be back.” Back
where he belonged.
“Gemma wants to grill out
tonight. Want to join us?”
He debated. Spending a
few hours with his friends was one thing. Watching Adam and Gemma act like
newlyweds was another. Especially since Irisa wasn
’t
talking to him. “Thanks, but I think I’ll head home after the game.”
Adam leaned closer and
lowered his voice.
“Have you heard from Irisa?”
Dom shook his head. Tried
to pretend it didn
’t matter.
“She’s coming with her
band to your charity event, right?”
“She was supposed to. I
haven’t heard anything from them about canceling.”
“So talk to her then.
Make her listen.”
He nodded. Hopefully, he
’d
figure out by then what the hell to say.
Out on the field during
warmups, he soaked in the sun, the crowd, the feel of his uniform, and the
leather scent of his glove. Everything he
’d missed during his time
away.