Play Me (17 page)

Weston grips my waist and hauls me over his shoulder before tossing me on the bed. I shoot upwards but Weston covers my body with his. “What’s wrong with you,” Wes whispers against my skin. I push against his chest but he grips my wrists in one hand and presses me back down to my mattress.

“Stop fightin’ me, Roxanne,” he growls.

I feel the sticky hot feeling of my tears pouring down my face but they’re replaced by Weston’s lips all over me. “Shh,” he whispers. “Calm down.”

I begin a hiccup cry. I don’t even know exactly why I’m crying. Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I let my head fall against the mattress. “Why are you crying, baby?”

Another hiccup. “I—I don’t know.” My nose is beginning to run, so I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve.

“Listen to me,” Weston whispers against my mouth. “Shh, baby and listen to me.” He kneads at the back of my neck and forces my face up. “Nobody is going to understand us, Roxanne. Not the football team. SAU. Hell, this fuckin’ town wouldn’t even understand. I don’t do this. I don’t date.” He stares down at me. “But I’m willing to take this pass because I have faith in us.” He points to the tip of my nose with his index finger. “I need your faith too. I need you to believe in us as much as I do.”

The waterworks amp up and streams of tears run down my swollen eyes and onto my cheeks. “I do,” I choke out.

He nods. “Then fuck Rebecca, Roxanne. It’s only you and me. Nobody else.”

I nod. Those dark eyes wash away any doubt that’s built in my stomach. And in that moment it’s all I need to know we’re taking this chance together. “Nobody else.”

***

Weston

Roxy’s long tanned legs are propped up on the dashboard of my truck. The hem of her dress is sliding up against her upper thigh, giving me all the view I need.
God, please don’t get hard now.

She runs her fingers through her long dark hair and rests her head against the headrest. The soft skin of her neck makes me want to reach over and lick and nip until she screams.

When she turns to look at me, she lifts a brow. I find myself wanting to know all about her. I want to know her deepest secrets. Where she grew up. I want to meet the people that raised her. Her first kiss. First love. Fuck—I need to know it all.

“What are you thinkin’ about over there?” she asks.

Reaching over, I run my finger down the side of her arm and wrap my grip around her wrist. “Where are your parents?”

A sad look forms and her lips turn down into a frown. I run my finger against the side of her lip. “I already told you. They kicked me out when I got pregnant. I was going to school from home and they just,” she shrugs, “kicked me out. I had to move in with Ryan.”

My jaw clenches. They kicked her out? I thought maybe—just maybe—there was another explanation. How could they do that to this girl? God—how could anyone look at her and toss her out. “Fuckers,” I blurt out.

Roxy laughs so loud she snorts and then turns red. “You’re fuckin’ adorable. Don’t worry about my parents. I’m better off without them. They never truly loved me, I don’t think. I was an accident.”

I glance over at her. She doesn’t look upset or even worried but I don’t know what she went through as a child. But I know that look isn’t one of hurt or worry. She’s okay with it. I wish I were.

“What about you? Where are your parents?”

“Home.”

She laughs and nudges my shoulder. “Here?”

I nod and scratch the back of my neck. “I had a normal childhood—I guess—but Dad wasn’t around a lot… we don’t talk much.”

She nods. “You’re just not close.”

I peak over at her. “Exactly.” But she just nods and closes her eyes. Most people judge me for not talking to my parents more often, or going to visit. They wouldn’t be there anyway. They’re always on vacation or out of state for business. Breeding bulls for bull riding is a popular business down here. Dad will drive three hundred miles for a damn bull but wouldn’t drive ten minutes uptown to see his son play football.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say.

Roxanne jumps out of the truck as soon as I stop in the car-riders line at the daycare. I watch as her hips sway and the wind blows her thick hair over her shoulders. The funny feeling in my stomach is starting to feel right.

I run my fingers over my scruffy jaw and lean back. I can see Roxy’s head inside of the glass window in the front.
God. How did this happen?
I was ready to kill her just a few weeks ago and now I want to wipe every ounce of hurt away from her. I want her to live happily—with me—forever. Forever hasn’t been in my vocabulary since I—ever.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Roxy! Do I need to call the police?”
What?
Roxy is running toward the truck when I glance up. Her makeup smearing down her tear-stained cheeks. What the—

She falls into the door and fumbles with it before swinging it open. “Ryan has Maddox. He came and got him!” she screams, her voice already hoarse from yelling.

I glance at the teacher standing behind her. “When did he come get him?”

She wraps her hand over her mouth and closes her eyes. “Umm … like an hour ago. Listen, I’m really—,”

“Get in, Roxanne,” I say.

She hiccups into her hands. “Get in!”

She hurries into the cab of the truck and I spin out. We don’t speak. I can’t. If I say one word I’m going to come undone.
He took him? How?
Do teachers just give children away to random people?
What. The. Fuck!
I slam my hands against the steering wheel over and over again until pain shoots through my wrist.

Magnolia is a small southern town. There are only a few motels here but I’m not going home until each one has been fucking checked and we’ve found this fucking asshole.

My tires squeal into the Magnolia Inn. Each parked car I check the license plate. Nothing. Roxy’s sobs are just tears now. “I’m scared.”

I cut a U-Turn and stomp my foot on the gas pedal. When we pull into the Hampton Inn, Roxy points straight toward a small Jeep Cherokee with Texas plates.

I pull in beside it. “Stay here,” I say, holding my hand out at her. “Please. Don’t be stupid. Stay in the car.”
I can tell she doesn’t want to but she nods and curls her knees up to her chin. There are only a few cars here and we’re far enough away from the office not to be seen.

A soft glow of the TV in room 118 casts light on the bed. An older couple are lying in the center. Passing the room, I stop on the one directly beside it. The curtains are drawn shut but I can hear Disney Channel on the other side.

Taking a deep breath, I pound my fists against the door. The TV clicks off and then the curtains shift an inch. I can’t tell who looks out but I know they see me. There is fumbling and then silence.

Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Let me in, Ryan, or I’m calling the fuckin’ police after I whoop your ass.”

Silence.

Jesus Christ.
Thoughts are pouring into my mind before I can process anything. What if he’s hurting him? I have to get in there. I thud my fists harder on the door, shaking underneath each thrust.

Silence.

I turn back to look at Roxy. She’s sitting on the edge of her seat, eyes wide and attentive. Pressing my lips together, I turn around and slam my foot against the door.

Then another time. Then another. With each kick the door rattles harder. Finally the door pops open. Dust floats down in front of the entryway.

He is standing in front of Maddox when I walk in. A dark hoodie covering his eyes. A syringe and a line of coke are sitting on the side table. Maddox’s eyes widen and he tries to run for me but Ryan grabs the back of his shirt and jerks him back. “He isn’t your daddy!” he screams.

He’s strung out. And to think the daycare gave Maddox to this lunatic. The fact that he thinks he’s going to get away with this rubs me the wrong way. Maddox starts to cry and falls to the floor behind him.

When he turns back around the hood of his jacket falls from his face. There is no denying Maddox is his dad. The blue eyes. Black hair. It’s all there. But the cold distant look in his eyes isn’t something I trust. Especially when drugs are involved.

“You might as well hand him over and leave. He isn’t going with you and you aren’t staying.”

Ryan twitches and wipes at his nose. “Last time was a warning, Weston Garrison,” he says, his voice hoarse and cracked. “I have people coming to help me.”

My eyes flicker to Maddox. “Yea? Well tell them I live at the on-campus apartments. I’ll be fuckin’ waiting for them.”

He smiles, a row of rotten teeth below his sneer. “They’re already here,” he whispers.

Fear swarms my stomach. Not for me. For Roxy and Maddox. What does this guy want? Why now? “What do you want Ryan? What do you get out of trying to kidnap your kid?”

He curls his hands into fists. Obviously this isn’t going to be a civil meeting. “Don’t talk to me about my life! I have it under control!” he yells.

Maddox yelps out and curls into a tighter ball. Hell no. Fuck this shit. I take two steps forward, grab Ryan’s shirt and toss him away from Maddox.

“Go!” I yell and Maddox jumps up and disappears outside of the door. Ryan lays jerking and twitching on the floor. His eyes rolling back into his head and then close.

He’s not dead. He’s strung out. Digging my cell out of my pocket, I call the police. But for some reason, I know this is far from over.

Chapter
Thirteen

Weston

“Just one more,” I whisper against her mouth.

She giggles against me and shoves me in the chest. “Go get ready for school. I’ll see you later.”

I grab her waist one last time and holster her up to my hip. With her back pressed against the outside of her door, I breathe in her flowery scent. This scent tops the football field by one thousand. “You had me all last night, Wes,” she groans.

“I did.”

She laughs again when I nuzzle my lips onto her neck. “Now I want more.”

Her hands slip to the front of my shorts and she pushes against me in a vain attempt. She runs her other hand through my hair. “We don’t always get what we want.”

I nip at her lip. “I do.”

“Get a room!” someone shouts. I whip around and see an elderly lady standing two doors down. She’s in her nightgown, standing on her small porch holding a watering can.

Roxy barks out a laugh and hides her face in my shoulder. Still holding Roxy I turn to the lady and give her a small wave. “Won’t happen again, Mrs. Johnson.”

She flips me off. “My name isn’t Mrs. Johnson, asshole. Get inside before I call the police!”

Then she shuts her door. Roxy’s laugh breaks from her throat. “God, what a bitch.”

I sit her down. “She just needs some dick. Maybe I could go show her—,”

“Don’t even say it!” She points a finger in my face. “Don’t even go there.”

I grab her finger and laugh. “Today is the day.”

She nods. “First practice. Are you nervous?”

I cup her chin. “Will you be there watching me?”

“Of course.”

I kiss her lips. “Then I won’t be.” Her cheeks glow red. A loud pop of someone’s exhaust screeches. Roxy jerks and takes a step backwards. “Hey, hey,” I whisper. “He’s in jail, Roxy. It’s been two weeks.”

She nods. “I know but—he said people were coming to get us.” She gnaws on her bottom lip. “What if—,”

“No,” I whisper against her. “No one is going to come get either one of us, do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

A smile forms on the corner of her lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

I nip her pouty lip and pick up a curl off of her shoulder. “I’m going to go get ready. See you at practice today.”

“Rip ‘em a new asshole.”

“Have you ever known me not to?”

She shrugs. “Last night wasn’t that im—,” I jerk her up and over my shoulder. She hits my back and laughs as I toss her on the couch and shut the door.

***

The humid wind blows over me, and sends the freshly cut grass smell my way. The amazing feeling I always got when practicing is back. Finally. I slip my helmet on and run toward my team of brothers.

Dom is the first one to slap me on the back. “Sunshine,” he yells and everyone begins to shove me.

The feeling of brotherly love and having a family outside of your family is one of the best feelings in the world. That’s what I loved about it as a kid. It didn’t matter that my father wasn’t there, because my other family was playing right beside me. Always.

Jason slips his arm around me and pulls me to him. “Looks like we got our star running back, back again, boys!” Everyone hollers. “Now, let’s play some mother fucking football, Muleriders!”

We all start chanting Muleriders over and over as we jump in our huddle circle. “Break!” Jason yells and we file into the I formation. I’m waiting for it. Wanting it. Breathing it. Needing it. I feel myself loosen. All the tension from the past few weeks leaves my body.

As if magnetic, Dom’s gaze snaps to mine. And I feel it. I feel the play before it happens. The connection that forms between players seems to follow you everywhere. “Hut,” Dom calls, motioning outward. Another hut. The field is silent. No movement, no breath, just silence.

“Hut.”

It feels like time has been standing still and now we’re in motion. Everything falls into place like magic. The quarterback fakes the ball to me but I never stop running, not until I hit the flats. I watch over my shoulder as Jason fakes to the wide receiver. Jason might be airheaded but if you give him a football he’ll show you where to fucking put it.

Then his hand snaps back, and without any contact he knows it’s time to throw. I plummet down the field, my legs stretching to their limit. It feels amazing. I focus in on the ball, my heart jackhammering in my throat. It’s there within reach. I stretch further and feel the spiral spin into my grip. And with the ball tucked underneath me I plow forward. I break the first tackle, slamming my shoulder into his arm.

Then another with a fake to the left.

And the third with a stiff arm.