Fair Play (15 page)

Téa

Before I open my eyes, I feel the ache. It starts at the top of my head and washes down over my shoulders, settling deep in my left side. It’s the way I feel when I have the flu with a fever and all-over body aches.

But this isn’t the flu. The memory of Matt’s hands circling my throat and cutting off my oxygen rushes to the forefront of my mind like an electrical shock.

I snap open my eyes. Where am I? I scan the room, not moving my head because of the jackhammer chipping away at my brain cells.

It takes me a second, but I start to recognize things that are Nick’s. A cluster of photographs of Scarlet, a glass statue of a football, or maybe it’s a trophy. I’m not sure. A clock sits on his dresser. I stare up at the ceiling between the spindles of his plantation rice bed and wish I were waking up sated and sore from the sextathalon we had planned on having last night instead of ... I don’t want to think about it anymore.

The reality is there though whether I want it to be or not. I was almost raped and killed by a man last night, and Nick saved my life.

“Morning, how are you feeling?”

I turn toward the sound of his voice and wince when pain shoots through my head. Nick is lying on top of the covers on his side with his head propped on his hand.

“That bad huh?”

I try to speak, but nothing comes out.

“Sorry, don’t try to talk. The doctor said to rest your voice for a couple of days.”

A few days, crap, what am I going to do about Hawaii? I lift my hands to my throbbing head and find a row of sharp little stitches poking out of my skin.

“You had to have stitches, it’s only four but there are a few beyond your hairline too so we will have to be careful when we wash your hair.”

“I remember,” I whisper.

“Of course you do.” He reaches over and tucks a curl behind my ear.

“You’re safe now. I called the police station this morning and unfortunately the guy, Matt, is okay. He’s still in the hospital, but he will be arrested as soon as he’s discharged.”

I nod my head and turn away from him. It’s hard to look at him knowing that he saw what Matt was trying to do to me. I had no idea that monster was upstairs when I went to the bathroom. I had no idea he was a monster.

When Nick called me Red at the party, something felt off. I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or my mind playing tricks on me, but I had the overwhelming urge to see if Emmett was real.

I was going to message him quickly from the bathroom and tell him I was thinking about him when Matt came up from behind me and shoved me through the door. He clasped his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream and locked the door.

I fought back. I used all the techniques I learned in a self-defense class, stomping on his toes, grabbing his balls, poking his eyes out, but he was too big and too strong. He called me a self-serving bitch and said I was a princess who deserved to be raped for turning down his offer to dance last time.

It was just a little dance, he said, spitting when he spoke. Would it have killed you to dance with me?

No, but apparently not dancing with him was going to do the trick.

I was so nauseated when I realized he had me trapped like an animal with no way out that I vomited. It spewed out between his hand, running down his arm. He jerked his hand away, grunting with disgust, and that’s when I got my one and only chance to escape. But I blew it.

I dropped to the floor planning to crawl to the door, but he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back up. He shoved me into the shower against the wall and began to choke me.

His eyes were cold and his actions calculating as he lifted my feet off the ground and pulled at the material of my shorts until it ripped. He shoved his hand between my legs, and I started seeing sparkles and black splotches. I tried to get his hand off of my throat, clawing and scratching, but he was like the Incredible Hulk holding me in the air with one hand and attacking me with the other.

I knew with one hundred percent certainty that he was going to kill me if no one came upstairs. I prayed to God for a miracle, and he sent me one in the form of a football player named Nick Wood. If not for him, my body would be lying alone on a cold slab in the morgue today instead of curled up under a down comforter next to my hero.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Eleven thirty, you needed the rest and the doctor gave you something to help you sleep. Do you remember that?”

“No, just the car and now this.” I pat the comforter on either side of my body and tiny dust particles fly into the air, showing more prominently in the streak of sun crossing the room. I can hear Scarlet downstairs singing, and the heavenly scent of coffee is wafting through the air.

“Well, there wasn’t much more to remember after that. You’ve been sleeping.” He reaches over and lightly touches a place on my lip that hurts like hell. He stares at the spot for a beat and pushes a hard breath from his lungs.

“Do you feel like getting up?”

“Yeah, I hurt everywhere. Can you give me a hand?”

He rolls away from me off of the bed and pads around to help me up. I groan when my muscles protest and instinctually brace my sore side.

“Do you want something for the pain? I have Ibuprofen and a couple Vicodin left from when I injured my leg.”

“I want to see how I do first. Maybe if I get up and move around a little, it will help.”

“Scarlet’s downstairs, do you want to try and see her? She’s been asking about you all morning.”

“What’s our story going to be?”

He chews on his lip while he thinks up something a four year old will understand.

“How about we tell her you fell down some stairs at the party last night and hurt your ribs? That way she might not attack you and give you Bridgette-style hugs. Emphasis on might.”

“Sounds believable, okay.”

I look down and inspect my injuries. Bruises, a few scrapes, a big bruise on my side under my hand. At least nothing’s broken. I remember the doctor saying that last night and thinking he sounded like an uncompassionate dick, but he’s right. I’m grateful things aren’t worse.

“Let’s go into my room first so I can change out of these scrubs.”

“I don’t know. You look pretty hot in those. You sure you don’t want to try a career switch?”

“Yuck, no, blood makes me squeamish, and I love my career, thank you very much. I’m too creative to be stuck in a building taking care of sick people all day. I can put these on for you once in a while though if you like them, Personally, I don’t see the appeal.”

“Yes, I like them, but I like what’s inside them more.”

He has been standing with me, holding onto my elbow with his arm around my back, and he leans in to lightly press his warm lips on mine.

The corners of my mouth lift in a weak smile. He’s a good man. I don’t feel the tiniest bit pretty or sexy, but he’s making me feel like I am.

In the guest room, he helps me sit on the edge of the bed, and I dig through my bag for something to replace my hospital scrubs.

“Are we going anywhere?” I ask.

He raises his eyebrows like I’m out of my mind.

“Do you feel like going anywhere?” I watch him as he widens his stance and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Uh, I guess not?”

“I can’t imagine why you would even ask. You needed help from my bed to yours. I don’t think you would make it very far in your condition.”

“My condition,” I say, shaking my head and rummaging through my bag for a t-shirt and shorts. I pull out one that says “Blink If You Want Me” and hold it up to him.

He blinks.

I smile and stuff it back, because I’m not sure if four year olds can read yet. The next one I find says Netflix and Chill, still inappropriate, but Scarlet won’t know. I hold it up, and a smile as wide as the Golden Gate Bridge spreads across his face.

A pair of panties and a sports bra and I’m set. He’s seen me naked a couple of times now, but I still feel like I should go into the bathroom to change. He senses my mental debate and walks to close the door to my room.

“Don’t you need to keep an ear out for Scarlet?”

“Ben’s here. She’s fine. Do you want help or would you rather dress yourself?”

“Well, being that I’ve been doing it for twenty-seven years, I’m sure I can do it on my own but if you’re offering …”

“I am.”

He helps me with my bra and panties. The pain has me moving so slow that I almost feel sorry for him. His hands brush across my breasts when he adjusts my sports bra. When he pulls up my panties, he slides his hands over my ass. When I look at him accusingly, he shrugs like it never happened.

Nick makes me smile. After all that’s happened over the past twenty-four hours, you would think smiling would be impossible, but something about this sexy, warmhearted daddy makes everything seem possible.

Downstairs, Ben has cleared out and Scarlet meets me with worried eyes and soft touches. She’s a lot like her dad in that way.

“Your lip,” she says, reaching out but not quite touching my fat lip.

“I know. I’m such a klutz.”

“Daddy says to hold the bar.” She delivers her advice like an adult reminding a child of a basic safety precaution.

“I’ll remember to do that from now on.”

“Are you hungry?” Nick asks.

“Daddy made homemade getti.”

“He did? That sounds perfect.”

“I’m probably going to regret this, but do you want to eat out here on the coffee table, so you don’t have to get up?”

“Oh no, I can come to the table. I need to keep moving or I’ll never feel better.”

“I don’t know, the doctor said you should rest for a couple of days.”

“I’m fine, let’s eat at the table.” I stand on shaky legs, and Scarlet takes my hand and leads me to the dining room table where we eat the most authentic Italian spaghetti I’ve ever tasted.

“Good?” he asks, knowing full well I think it is. I’ve had seconds, and my brain is considering thirds, but my stomach says no.

“No, it's horrible. I was only eating it to be nice.”

“You’re a pretty good actress then.”

“How is it that you’re good at everything? You even bartend like a star.”

“Practice. I haven’t even shown you what I’m best at doing yet.” His voice is laced with a sly double meaning. I’m almost afraid to ask him what he means by that in front of Scarlet, but I do.

“Oh really? Dare I ask what it is you haven’t shown me?”

“You haven’t seen me play football.” He winks when Scarlet isn’t looking, and a noodle slides between his lips, disappearing into his mouth. He smirks, and I decide that that’s my favorite expression I’ve seen him make. It’s sexy and mischievous. A mere lift of one side of his mouth says I want you, I like you, and I’m confident enough to think you’re mine.

And maybe I am.

“Daddy, do we go to Hawaii today?” Scarlet asks out of the blue like kids often do.

“No baby, we go on Tuesday, this is Sunday. It won’t be long though, just one more day.”

Hawaii, shit. I’m not going to be much help to him on his vacation banged up like this. I don’t know how I could run around the island lifting my heavy camera with its enormous zoom lens, not to mention trying to keep up with Scarlet. He said he didn’t need me to nanny on the trip, but I’m sure he's going to need a little help.

“I see you over there thinking, and you can stop right now,” Nick says.

“What?”

“You’re still going, even if you can’t take one photograph. I want you with us.”

I twirl my fork around in my spaghetti.

“I won’t be much of a nanny either, at least not for a few days.”

“That’s fine. We’re going to be there for ten days or more. I’m sure you’ll be back on your feet before we leave.”

Scarlet has been ping-ponging her head back and forth between us listening to us talk.

“You go with us.”

Nick looks at me and points his fork at her. “The boss has spoken, there’s nothing you can do but submit to her wishes now.”

“All right, if you’re sure. I’ll feel like a tag along though with no real reason to be there.”

“Téa, you are wanted by us, that’s reason enough.”

His words resonate in my soul, filling a spot inside me that I didn’t know existed. Belonging is something I’m not familiar with. I’ve always been an outsider, an alien intruder existing among hundreds of millions of so-called ‘normal’ people. The day I picked up my first camera was the day I learned to be myself and embrace my differences. Photography gave me an excuse for being an untethered free spirit, and that worked for me until now. Nick and Scarlet give me security and inclusion. They make me feel like I’m part of something big. They make me feel like family.

I never realized how much I wanted that. 

“Thank you for that,” I say, and swallow past a lump that has formed in my throat.

“No need for thanks.”