Lucky Left Wing

Chapter Eight

Whether she believes me or not doesn’t matter. There’s no chance of me leaving this woman again, no matter what happens or what anyone says. Clearly, her father didn’t tell her the truth about our last encounter, and if she’s hiding from him now, then it means she’s no longer living under his thumb. Good. The bloody maniac can drop dead and rot for all I care.

“Aiden, there’s a lot of history between us but that doesn’t mean we can pick up where we left off.” She shoots me those dagger eyes that always meant I’d said something stupid. Maybe she’s right, but now that she’s back in my life, I intend to prove to her just how much she still means to me.

“I never said that, love. I don’t expect anything, but you’re here now. I’m here now, and if I can help it, that isn’t going to change,” I admit and navigate into the parking lot as she directs my way to her rental. It’s a series of townhouses settled behind a tree-lined drive. It’s beautiful, but out of my price range.

My mind wanders back to her performance. Sakes alive, she was beautiful even though I couldn’t see her face. A shiver of apprehension courses through me when I think of everything she did without the benefit of a net below, but that’s always been Finchley. Daring. Independent. Stubborn.

Once we reach her townhouse and park, she shoves the door open and takes a deep breath. I can only assume memories bombard her as much as they do me, taking her back to the days when she sat in that passenger seat all the time. If I knew she would defy her father anyway, I would have told him to take a leap when he confronted me. Threatened me.

Finchley unlocks her front door, glancing up toward the sky. “Looks like a storm rolling in.”

In more ways than one, probably. I’ve dreaded this moment—never thought it would come, but dreaded it all the same. I’ll have to tell her everything, all the details of what her father did, what he said, how he planned to ruin his own daughter if I didn’t leave and never speak to her again. Shame washes over me, flooding my face with warmth. I run my hands over my face.

“You want some coffee?” she asks, heading into her kitchen.

“Sure. Can I sit?”

She motions towards the sofa and loveseat in the living area. “Sure. Make yourself comfortable.”

I’d love to, but my entire life is on the line right now. This interaction will be the foundation for every future one between us, and if it goes wrong, I can’t imagine how we’ll work together let alone anything more. And I want more. I can’t breathe thinking about how much more I want with this woman who still holds my heart as tightly now as she did when I was a stupid kid.

Thunder booms in the distance moments before she drops something in the kitchen. A sigh meets my ears as I lean back to peer into the small space. She’s still terrified of thunderstorms. How many has she suffered through alone since I left? My jaw tightens and flexes. I hate myself for leaving her more today than I did that first day.

“Here you go,” she says, shakily handing me a cup of coffee just the way I always took it. Not that handing someone a black cup of coffee is all that intuitive, but she didn’t ask like most people would. That must mean something. I huff and take a sip. Eejit. Grasping at things that add up to nothing.

“What?” she asks, blowing on hers.

“Nothing, love. Was only thinking.”

She sits across from me, keeping enough distance between us that I know I have a lot of explaining to do before we can be friends. Fair enough.

“I guess we should start at the beginning.” She leans into her sofa, clearly giving me the floor.

I set my coffee mug on the table, ensuring there is a coaster beneath it.

“You had a bad dose of it a few days before our wedding date. Remember?” I ask, praying she could never forget the vomiting, the cold sweats, how frail she was just trying to keep water down. She nods, face turning green at the thought of it. “The doctor said it was food poisoning, yeah?”

She nods again. “Yes, Aiden, but what does that have to do with—”

“It was your father, Birdie.”

Finchley sits straight as possible in the sofa. “What are you talking about? What do you mean, it was my father?”

I shift forward. “He came to me the night before the wedding, told me he would take everything from you, make sure your life was miserable if you married me, the Irish trash he warned you about.”

She waves her hand and frowns. “Yeah, he told me the same thing but I didn’t care about that. I knew you’d take care of me, and I never cared about being rich. I wanted you, Aiden.”

“You’re not hearing me. He made you sick, Birdie. He told me that night that he would keep you under his control any way he had to, even if it meant you were often sick.”

She blinks a few times and puts her mug on the table beside mine, ignoring the stack of coasters. “Are you trying to tell me my father poisoned me?”

“He said it plain enough.” I brace for impact, though I’m not entirely sure what to expect.

“Aiden, he’s a crazy person but he’d never try to kill his daughter. He wanted me to follow in my mother’s shoes. Her ballet slippers, to be exact, so keeping me sick would only—oh.” She stops short and deflates. “Oh,” she whispers, shoulders sinking further as her face pales.

“What is it?” My entire body aches to cross the distance between us and hold her through this. I don’t know what’s on her mind right now, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, it’s my responsibility to make it better, to protect her.

Finchley shakes her head a few times and tears slip free. She pulls a tissue from the box on the table beside the sofa and pats her face dry before shaking her head again, now with frustration or anger. “I’m thinking back over the last decade, and I realize something. Every time I defied my father’s wishes, I had a sudden bout of food poisoning or the flu, something that proved I needed him.”

I bolt upright and clench my fists at my sides, unable to control the surge of fury that bit me. I’ve been beaten up on the ice by some real brutes, real deadbeat guys, but I’ve never wanted to murder one, not like I want to look her father in the eyes and smash every tooth from his wicked mouth.

“Aiden, please,” she whispers. “Please, calm down.”

I look down at her, note the tension in her body, and ease. Acting like a gorilla won’t help her right now. I sit beside her, assuming she’ll scoot over and give me room, but she doesn’t. Instead, she pulls her legs up behind her and leans into the sofa.

“You don’t seem terribly surprised,” I admit. “I just told you I left you because your father threatened to keep you sick, love.”

Tracing the pattern on her sofa with her finger, she sighs. “I suppose some part of me always knew Father was controlling enough to do crazy things. He tried to force me to marry someone else. Well, we were engaged. He wanted me to marry him so he would have someone to pass his company down to. Stephen is…” she fades and checks my reaction. “He’s abusive.”

I tense, earning another pleading gaze from her. I don’t know how I manage to stay seated, but for her sake, I do despite the rage coursing through me like lava.

“I never would have left if I had known he would keep doing that to you. Birdie, he all but threatened to kill you to keep us apart. You know the cops were in his pocket, so going to them wasn’t an option. I couldn’t imagine—I just couldn’t think about it. I should have told you then and we could have run away together, maybe gone to Ireland. You have to know I never stopped loving you, and that I would never have left you for any other reason.”

“Aiden,” she says, resting her hand on my forearm. Her touch brings back more memories and increases the tension in my stomach, but at the same time, I don’t think I can live without it any longer. “I don’t know why, but I believe you. Actually, I do know why. After the last ten years and everything Stephen and my father have put me through, there’s nothing about my father you could say that would surprise me. I guess maybe deep down, some part of me knew things could always get worse. Maybe that’s why I said yes when April showed me the job opening here, and again when Mr. Gregory offered the job.”

“You knew I was here. I haven’t played anywhere else since they signed me. Did you plan to keep yourself hidden from me forever?” Please, no. I can’t survive knowing she never wanted anything to do with me.

Her pretty eyes, so warm and loving, graze over my face. “I knew. I tried to tell myself that it was the job drawing me here, but deep down I think I always knew the truth, that you had a good reason for leaving.” She lowers her gaze and toys with the hem of her shirt. “I was tired of running from them, and I think I knew the only way I could stop was to run to you.”

I don’t want to get too excited about her admission, but it does boost the old ego just a little bit. “Why me?”

She sighs and dares to make eye contact again. “Because until the day you left, you always took care of me. I guess I figured if there was anyone who would help me, it would be you.”

“Even though I left?” I ask, doubting she’s confident in her own words.

She shrugs and shakes her head at the same time. “When the job came open, April said it was fate. She said God set it up for us to reunite, and the lovesick fool in me believes she’s right.”

I grin thinking about her cousin. “I always liked that one,” I admit.

Finchley chuckles. “Yeah, she’s fond of you, too. She always told me there was no way you’d leave without a good reason.”

Shifting my weight so I face her, I take her hand. “I didn’t have a good reason. I could have protected you, but I was so scared that I ran instead. Art Reynolds found me shortly after and signed me to the Dragons. I hesitated at first, but I knew it was for the best. I’d tried to move on and let you do the same, thinking you were safer that way.”

“I didn’t move on,” she whispers, her hands shaking in mine.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Birdie.” Tears sting my eyes, threatening to fall. How could I have believed, even for a moment, that leaving her would help her? I’d been terrified of his threat. I truly believed he would kill her rather than allow her to marry me, no matter how old we were. Instead, what he did was worse. Forcing her into a career she didn’t want, to commit to a man who hurt her.

Closing my eyes tight, I pray to God to guide me through this. Keep me from going on a homicidal rampage after the men who have abused her, and to help me be the man she needs now. Thunder booms again, startling her.

“It’s really bucketing down out there,” I say. “Are you going to be all right after I go?”

“I’ve learned to survive it on my own, if that’s what you’re asking.” She reaches for her coffee and takes a few sips before I can think of anything else to say.

It seems a little too easy. I thought surely I’d have a lot more explaining to do, that she would be shocked to the core about her father’s actions, or, at the very least, I’d have to grovel for her to even hear me out. Sitting beside her feels like no time has passed but we’re a world apart at the same time.

“What are we going to do?” she asks, peering over her mug as if I have the magic answer to make this most horrific and awkward situation smooth over as if it never happened. I wish it hadn’t.

I ease back into her sofa and scratch my chin. Itchy thing. “I wish I knew, love. We both work for a great organization, and the team is like a family. I can personally say that none of the guys will give you a hard time, even if they know about our past. I do think it would be wise to explain a little about why you don’t want anyone to know your identity.”

She sighs long and heavy. “That’s what April says, but I worry my father and Stephen will find me here and ruin everything. I’ve already been let go from more than one job because of my father. You know how he is, and he’s just wealthy enough to make even Mr. Gregory back down.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate the tenacity of Mr. Gregory. He’s a fierce defender of his family, gives more than a second chance, and doesn’t like to see people hurt. Does he know everything about your past?” I realize what a foolish question that is once it’s out of my mouth. “Of course he does.”

“Yes, and he’s been great about it. I don’t want to ruin this opportunity. It’s only been a few days and I already love it here so much. Freya and the others have been so great. I feel like I have a chance at real friendship with the ladies, a great job, and—”

She cuts herself off with a sip of coffee. I want to know what she was going to say, but my Birdie is stubborn. I’ll never know if she doesn’t want me to know.

“I have no doubt you will find great friends among them.”

Silence grows between us again. It lasts for a while before I finally groan. “Is there anything more you want to know? My explanation was shoddy but it was the truth.”

She snickers. “No, not really. I know once you leave, I’ll have to call April and work through the trauma of knowing my father tried to keep me sick on purpose, but you know, that’s just another day in my life. Now that it’s sunk in, I’m not even a little surprised.”

“You don’t seem angry either.” Anger burns in my cheeks again, probably reddening them.

“I am, but I have learned that being angry with my father does nothing for me. I’ll make an appointment with a doctor here, see if there are blood tests he can run to make sure I’m all right, but honestly, is there anything else they can do? If my father finds me again, he’ll probably finish the job anyway.” Her tone drips with sarcasm, but it pains me to hear the words.

Growling, I shake my head. “Birdie, don’t talk like that. I might have done wrong by you in the past, but I’m not going anywhere now. I’m with you through this no matter what comes.” I scoot forward, hoping she sees how earnest I am. “We can go to the police here. He can’t possibly have them in his pocket.”

She looks away and swallows hard, lowering her gaze to the floor. “He has connections everywhere. Things always end up blowing up, Aiden. I don’t want to take that chance.”

She’ll probably smack me, but I don’t care. I can’t stand her looking away from me as if she’s trouble. She isn’t. It wouldn’t matter if she were. I owe her this much after leaving her to deal with it all on her own ten years ago. I press my palm to her cheek and force her to look at me. Her beautiful, expressive eyes, always warm like an autumn forest, are filled with tears.

“Birdie, I meant what I said. I’m never leaving you again. Maybe you’ll never love me again, but I’m still your friend. I want to be, at least.”

Tears slip free and run over her cheeks, puddle over my hand, and slide down my wrist.

“That’s part of the problem. I tried for a while to hate you. Tried to convince myself that everything I remembered about us together was a lie. But I couldn’t stop following your career and everything about the Dragons. Then April told me about the job opening and I thought I was crazy for wanting it. And when I saw you practicing the other day, I knew.”

I brush my thumb under her eye, wiping away a few stray tears. “Knew what?”

“I can try until the day I die, but I’ll never stop loving you.”

My already broken heart cracks deeper at the sound of her desperation. What she would have given to forget about me, to hate me forever, but she’s been as tortured as I have. Worse, thanks to her father and that ex of hers. I need to know more about him, what he did to her, and where he lives so I can send him to meet his maker if he ever comes near her again. But I can’t ask her that, not right now. She’s too vulnerable, and anything I say might make her break further. I have to choose my words wisely, I know, but my stupid mouth goes ahead with its own plan, leaving my brain in the dust.

“Birdie, darling. I love you with all my heart, even now. Can you ever forgive me? Tell me what I need to do to. I’ll do it now, right here, anything at all you wish.”

It comes out in a thick accent that brings a smile to her face. When she chuckles, I pull my hand back.

“Look, Ace, you don’t need to pull the accent out in full force, all right? I’m hooked. I’ve been hooked since the first day you showed up at school.”

I can’t help grinnin’ ear to ear now that she’s used my nickname, but that doesn’t exactly clarify our situation. She loves me, but love doesn’t always signal a desire to spend the rest of your life with someone.

She licks her lips. “I’m not ready for anything though. I do love you. I never stopped, but it’s…dusty.”

“Dusty?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

“You know, it’s a different sort of love right now. It’s not alive, not burning with the same fire and intensity it did back then. There’s no…you know.” She motions between us but I haven’t the foggiest idea what she’s trying to say.

“I’m afraid I don’t, love. Yer gonna have to spell it out for me.”

She groans and throws her head back against the sofa. Given a thousand years of life, I’d never find a more beautiful woman than the goddess sitting beside me. Hair the color of a good stout, silky and smooth. Warm eyes. Alabaster skin on a neck that’s exposed, begging to be kissed. I’d be a fool to kiss her without permission, but my lips ache to feel that soft skin against them. To feel the vibration of her throat as she hums her happiness. To take in the scent of her, something feminine. Lavender. Always lavender. I’m bloody drunk on her and I haven’t even touched her.

“Birdie,” I whisper, a throaty growl that earns her attention.

She lifts her head, giving me a good once over. “We can be friends. We can talk, spend time together. I won’t avoid you, and you don’t have to avoid me. We’ll see what happens from there, okay?”

Hope swells in my heart but it’s almost immediately dashed by doubt. “I want to be clear about what you’re saying. I don’t want to have any more misunderstandings and lies between us.”

“The truth is, I’m still hurting from everything that happened. Stephen was abusive. I know that’s probably hard for you to hear, but he was. I need to sort through my feelings, deal with the fallout from knowing the truth about why you left, and try to get myself in some semblance of a routine here before trying to move past all of this trauma.”

I take a deep breath. “That’s more than fair. You have a lot of burden to bear, but know that you can share it with me. You can share it with the girls. They all have their own stories, and they’re a wonderful friend group.”

I can’t help but palm her face again, brushing my thumbs over her cheeks. She leans into my touch, allowing me this much. “You’re home, Birdie. I promise you, it’ll be better now.”

There’s a flicker in her eyes I know well. Her thoughts and feelings read in them, and in this moment she trusts me. She knows me. More than that, she knows what I say is true. She nods a little and smiles. I release her face and pray again that God will make me what she needs me to be.

“So, now that’s out of the way, how’d you like to join me in a bit o’ leprechaunin’?”

“A bit of what?” she asks, her laughter filling the room. Heaven above, she’s even more beautiful when she laughs that way, right from her belly and with her full heart.

“Evan calls my pranks leprechauning. He dared me to discover the identity of the mascot, and since that blew up in my face, I’m sure I’ll be issued more soon enough. What do you say? For old times’ sake, do you want to pull a prank with me?”

“Oh, do they know? About us?” I must make an awful expression because she adds, “It’s okay if they do. I was only curious. The girls all know.”

“I told Evan, Aiden, and Dexter about you, yes. I’d like to be honest about it with the other guys on first string since we’re close, but only if it’s all right with you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I don’t want you to lie to your friends, not when they’re like family. As for the prank, I’d love to, Ace. It’s been a long time, and I think I could use the fun.”