Valentine (A Standalone Novel) (Bad Boy Romance Book) (10 page)

Fuck.

I faked a jump at the three-point line and
the large guy in front of me jumped, too. The moment he started to come down, I
lifted on my toes and pushed off, letting the ball fly from my fingers and
scoring the first three points of the game.

The crowd went wild and I let out a loud
yell. I found Martin in the crowd, and he shook his head as a big smile lifted
his lips.

He mouthed his response and I nodded.

Saturday. Two p.m.
Don't
be late.

Awesome.

Chapter 10

Tate

The rest of the afternoon and evening went
by incredibly slow. After having lunch with Val, I wanted more of her. More
time with her, if even just a quick moment. Anger burned through me at the
thought of the blond dickhead from the hamburger place hurting her, and I had
to calm myself more than once over it. How anyone could hurt a woman that
looked as sweet as she did, and obviously had the heart to back it up, was
beyond me.

What I couldn't reconcile was my prejudice
against rich people and how I felt about her already, even just having met her.
The bitch in the car the night before was much more in tune with what I
expected from David Scott's kid. The more I thought about it, the more I
remembered hearing about her family and their involvement in politics and the
various school boards around the area. They had their name everywhere, and if I
recalled correctly, the business building at UMN was named after her father,
too.

"How's it going, buddy? You're
working a whole lot slower than you usually do." Jerry patted me on the
back as he stopped beside me under a Mustang I was working on. The breaks were
shot and the fix usually took me an hour at most, but I'd been at my current project
for a little over two hours at that point.

"Sorry, I guess I have too much on my
mind." I wiped my forearm over my face and let out a long sigh. "Do
you think all poor people are greedy and bitch about their lack all the
time?"

"Nope." Jerry reached up and
turned a knob that I was headed toward next. "And, I don't think all rich
people are bad. People are people, Tate. You know that."

"Yeah, I guess." I lifted my
arms and went back to work as my mind wandered in various dark corners, trying
to discern if people really did fit certain classifications based on wealth or
their social status.

"If you won a million dollars, what
would you do with it?" He patted my back once. "Would you spend it
all over the course of a week on all the toys you've always wanted?"

I pulled my hands down and turned to face
him. "What? Of course not. I'd take care of my debts, put my mother in a
nice house, and help out a few friends and some of the poorer families in my
neighborhood. If there was anything left, I'd put it up for the future."

"And what would you do for yourself?
Get a new bike? Vacation? A yacht?" He wagged his eyebrows.

"No, I'm good. I love my bike, and I
don't have time to take off. You guys need me here." I smirked and went
back to working.

"Exactly. Not everyone is what they
seem, boy. You're not the anomaly, but those that live up to their stigma
are." He walked away as his words sunk in. He had to be right.

Valentine didn't seem at all to be a rich
bitch by any stretch of the imagination. She hadn't walked into the shop
flaunting the fact that her father owned half the state of Minnesota. She'd
been humble and not mentioned any of it until Jerry pulled it out of her. The
night before, she'd just been trying to protect herself, or maybe I was giving
her too much credit as it were.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and
texted my mom, just checking in. My phone rang almost immediately with my
mother's number on it. For a minute, I thought maybe I'd accidentally dialed
her, but no, she was calling me. She never bothered me at work unless it was an
emergency.

"Mom?" I walked out of the shop
and into the darkness. I didn’t stop to grab my coat, but hopefully, I wouldn't
be out there long.

"Tate, I'm sorry to bother you, but I
need you." Her voice was pinched with fear and she was panting. My heart
went into my throat almost immediately.

"Mom? What's going on? What's
wrong?" Terror gripped me, and I jogged back to the garage to lay my tools
down. Jerry glanced up, and I mouthed that it was my mom and I was leaving. He
simply nodded. He knew the drama that continued to encircle my life since I'd
been a boy.

"Daniel's here, Tate. Please be
careful coming home." She let out a soft yelp just before she started
crying. "I'm trying to be quiet."

"Fuck. Where are you?" I ran to
my bike and got on, starting the engine. Her ex-boyfriend was supposed to still
be in jail. Why wasn't he?

"I'm in the cabinet under your
bathroom sink. He broke in. Hurry. Please. I'm scared." She let out
another whimper, and damn if I didn't feel the burn of tears in my eyes. If
anything happened to her, I was going to kill that motherfucker with my bare
hands.

"Hold on. I'll be there in five
minutes. Don't make a sound, Mom. Please." I dropped the call, unable to
hold the phone to my ear while driving.

I made it home in three minutes by doing
close to a hundred the whole way there. I pulled out my phone and dialed 9-1-1
as I raced toward the door.

"Nine-one-one. What's your
emergency?"

"My stepfather is out of jail and
trying to kill my mother. Look up the address from the phone. I'm leaving it on
the porch and going in. Hurry." I sat the phone down and ducked into the
house.

The sound of my mother screaming
accompanied with the sickening thud of someone being beat left my lunch rising
in my stomach.

I grabbed the baseball bat from the hall
closet and raced down the hall.

"You sorry bitch. You shouldn't have
tried to have me locked up. I'll-"

He didn't get another word out as I
reached into the bathroom and grabbed a handful of his greasy hair. I pulled
hard, and he screamed, but so did my mother. He had a handful of her hair, as
well.

I didn't think twice before swinging the
bat and hitting him in the chest before he could figure out what was going on.
He dropped her, and she scurried back in to the bathroom as she continued to
cry amid her horrible coughing.

"You sorry motherfucker." I hit
him again, but he wasn't one to lay back and take a beating. The nasty scar
across his ugly face was new, fresh. I had to guess that he didn't play too
well with the guy in his cell.

"You little son of a bitch." He
grabbed the bat and pulled me to him, head-butting me hard.

I stumbled backward, but got my footing
enough to drop to the ground and ram the bat into his crotch. He screamed and
fell to the floor in front of me. I threw the bat behind me and grabbed him,
rolling him and climbing on top of him as I started to throw punches.

Two strong hands pulled me off of him only
seconds later, and every muscle in my body locked up. I'd never been so damn
scared in all my life. I blinked a few times, realizing that the cops were
there, and we were going to be okay. I scrambled into the bathroom and picked
up my mother to carry her out.

"Right this way, son." A cop
reached out and took my arm, helping me to keep my focus by guiding me out of
the house. "Careful of the stairs."

I followed the sound of his voice, but
kept my eyes focused on my mom. She was breathing, but her eyes were closed and
her face bloody.

"Please, don't let anything happen to
her." I moved to the ambulance as they opened the back doors. A car pulled
up and my mother's oldest sister got out and ran toward us.

"Oh my God, Tate. She called and said
to get over here, but you know I live about-" She stopped and let out a
soft scream as she moved up to hover over the top of my mom. "Is she... Is
she..."

"No, she's just hurt pretty
bad." I reached out and brushed my mother's hair back. She wasn't
responding, but I'd seen her like that more times than I could count. She found
a safe place in her mind to hide, and I couldn't say that I didn't understand
why she did it. I wanted a safe place to hide, too.

"Can I go with her? Is that
okay?" My aunt pulled me into a quick hug as I nodded in agreement.

"Where are you taking her?" I
asked one of the paramedics as they closed the back of the ambulance.

"St. Mark's General," he barked
and walked around the ambulance.

I turned in time to see three cops pulling
Daniel out of the house, kicking and screaming. He was bigger than me, but
there was no way I would ever back down from a fight.

"You sorry fucker. She's my woman and
none of your damn concern. This is your fault," he screamed at me as they
wrestled him in the back of the cop car.

"How is it my fault?" I mumbled
and walked back to the house, completely exhausted and far more emotionally
defeated than I remembered being before. He would have beat her to death if I
hadn't have gotten home.

"Yeah, and you would have been home
earlier if you hadn't taken that pretty girl that's way out of your league out
on a date. What the fuck were you thinking?" I told myself as I walked up
the stairs, hard emotions wrapping around my chest and squeezed like a vice
grip. I was going to head up to the hospital, but I needed a minute to pull
myself together.

I made it to the bathroom before my
stomach turned over. Dropping to my knees, I closed my eyes and tried hard not
to relive the terror of seeing Daniel back in the house. He was a monster of
the worst kind, and I had to find a way to make sure that he wouldn't ever hurt
my mother again.

The sound of someone coming in the house
left my blood running cold. I jerked up and barged down the hall to see a
frightened Sam standing in the living room with his hands up.

"What the fuck is going on? I saw all
of the ambulances just leaving here. You okay? Where's your mom?" He
glanced around.

I pressed my hands to my face and let out
a long scream, unable to help myself. He wrapped me in a tight hug, and I let
him. I hadn't cried since we were kids, but I was so fucking tired of fighting
a battle that never ended.

"Hey, man. I'm right here for you.
It's me and you against the world. Tell me what you need and we'll get it.
Anything." Sam patted my back and let me lose my shit for a few minutes
before pulling back. "What happened?"

I wiped at my face angrily before walking
to the kitchen and downing three glasses of water. My insides were a fucking
wreck, and I couldn't stop seeing my mother lying on the floor, curled up and shivering
like a broken animal.

"Daniel was here. Beating her up
again." I filled up the glass again, wanting so damn bad for it to be
vodka, but knowing that I needed my wits about me to get to the hospital.

"Oh, shit. Where's your mom?"
His face paled.

"She's on the way to St. Mark’s. Can
you take me there?" I downed the last glass as I watched him. "I
don't feel like freezing my ass off on the bike."

"Of course. Let's go." He opened
the door for me and glanced over as we walked out toward the truck. "He
didn't hurt you, right?"

"Just my pride, as per usual. The
bastard's strong. I hate him so damn much." I got in the truck and buckled
up as my phone buzzed. Valentine.

Val:
Hey. Thanks for lunch today. I wanted you to know that I got you a try-out spot
on the swim team on Saturday at two. Don't be late. The natatorium.

I wasn't sure what to say, so I didn't
respond until later that night when things had finally settled down. I knew she
could tell that I'd read the text, but I could explain later if she forced me
to. I prayed like hell that she wasn't the needy type of girl that would want
something in return for her kindness. Even more so, I hoped that she wouldn't
need a fucking explanation to everything I did or didn't do.

I could feel the beginnings of a
relationship starting, and while I wanted one desperately, I'd been burned far
too many times. Women wanted sex or attention, but rarely love. I'd have to
keep myself protected, safe.

"Who you texting over there?"
Sam leaned over and tugged my phone from my hand. "Oh cool. Who's this Val
person? A girl?"

"Yeah. The chick that I helped on the
side of the road last night. She came by the shop today and we grabbed lunch
together. She's pretty cool." I shrugged and leaned back against the
plastic chair in the waiting room.

"Pretty cool? Did this chick really
get you a try out opportunity for the swim team?" Sam's voice was filled
with warmth.

I couldn't afford to share his excitement.
I'd wanted to be on the damn team too long and had been shunned by them several
times during my freshman and sophomore years. Tomorrow at two would be no
different.

"Yeah, she's a great girl, but I'm
not sure I'm going. You know those guys are dicks." I pulled my phone from
him, turned it off, and shoved it back into my pocket.

"What? Fuck that. You're an incredible
swimmer. Get out there and break all their fucking records. Then what are they
going to do? Oh yeah. Right. Let you on the team," he snorted.

"I'm not sure I want on the team
anymore, Sam. I have to start picking up shifts at the garage, seeing that Mom
is already having trouble paying the rent, and now this." I lifted my
hands in the air. "Jerry wants me to think about being the assistant
manager, anyway. It's probably better if I just drop out of school and work on
bringing in more money. I can't leave that burden on Mom. She's already about
to drop."