Page 38 of Down & Dirty (Holden Cove #1)

CHAPTER 38

SKYLAR

I ’d known that being with OTM would change things for Ronnie and me, but the promotional activities were spinning both of us in all directions. Interviews and photo shoots. Apparel fittings and dinners with fans. We were all happy to see the way his career was coming together, but the pace was wearing me down. When I was able to get an appointment for Micah at an asthma specialist I’d met with about his anxiety, I took it, opting to stay behind in Murietta for an extra night when the guys headed up to the next race in San Francisco.

Both Cory and Ronnie were super supportive, but not being there made me uneasy. Especially when Ronnie got put on a live spot for a syndicated radio show. I’d sat with bated breath, praying he didn’t say anything stupid. Written pieces could be edited, live shows could not. But luckily, he’d pulled everything off like a pro.

“That was amazing,” I told him, holding my phone up with my shoulder as I went back and forth to the closet in Cory’s apartment.

I stayed there every night I didn’t have Micah, and on those nights, Cory stayed at our place. It wasn’t perfect, but it would work until the end of the Supercross season when we had more time t o sort out a new plan. I’d stopped by to grab a few things I had there before getting Micah from Geena and heading home.

“How much money did you have on me fucking up?” he asked, lightheartedly.

“Who would I even have made a bet with?”

“Dad.”

I bit my lip; my brother knew us as well as we knew him. “Ten bucks.”

“Shit, Sky! Where’s the faith?”

“I love you, Ronnie, but you open that mouth of yours and god only knows what’s coming out.”

“Dad believed in me.”

“Dad believed in the media training. His bet was about seeing his investment pay off.”

“Well, I hope next time you’ll trust me a little more.”

I sighed, tossing the shirt in my hand into my luggage. “I do trust you, Ron. It’s not like I think you’re going to mess up on purpose. But those hosts are known for tricking people into saying stuff that you can’t take back. You’ve had a good start to the season, so I think they took it easier on you. Last week they had Chase Madson on and he stepped in some serious shit.”

“Yeah, and then he ate shit in San Diego.”

“Exactly. It’s a mind game at this point. So, just keep your focus on the next race and things will be fine.”

“When are you flying out?”

“Early tomorrow. I should be there in time for warm-ups.”

“All right, I’ll look for you at the tent, then. I gotta run.”

“Stay out of trouble.”

“If you were really worried you should have come up with the rest of us.”

I ground my teeth. “What happened to you not needing a babysitter?”

A laugh bellowed out of him. “Kidding, Sky. I’ll be good. Bye.”

With a sigh I tossed my phone onto the bed. I was almost done grabbing what I needed, but Cory had mentioned a pair of shoes he’d forgotten to bring and so I went back into the closet to hunt for them. He’d arranged a meeting with one of the Eleet execs while he was there, and I took it his moto boots weren’t quite the look he was going for.

The man had a shoe collection that rivaled most women’s. In fact, I think he had more than me. But the shoes he wanted were specific. So much so, he’d sent me a damn photo so I wouldn’t bring the wrong pair. None of the ones on the shelves matched the picture, so I got on my knees and started to sort the strays on the floor.

I was tugging to get a pair of loafers from the back, when I knocked the lid off a paper box blocking my way. Manilla folders were stacked up to the brim and one had an x-ray sticking out. A stab of fear shook me. With hesitant fingers I slid the black-and-white image from the file and held it up to the light. My untrained eyes took in the shapes and shadows, the image appearing to be of Cory’s spine.

He'd said he’d hurt his back before at the football game at Thanksgiving, so for a second my anxiety subsided. But when I went to put the x-ray back, I saw another. I tugged it out and noticed the date. It was from last year. I grabbed the box and pulled it toward me, realizing the entire thing was full of files. My hands trembled as I took each of them out, flipping over page after page of doctor’s notes.

Diagnoses.

Prognoses.

Warnings.

He'd had more injuries than any team would have allowed, which explained why all of these visits were at different clinics, different ERs, in different cities. And most of them had receipts in them that showed Cory had paid in cash.

He’d hidden everything. For years. From everyone.

Including me.

White noise filled my head, a tone that grew until it blocked out all other sound. Blood rushing from my ears to my stomach as it wre nched. Cory’s back wasn’t ‘nothing’ like he’d said. It was so much worse.

He’d lied to me.

He knew he shouldn’t still be riding, that the risk he took every time he got on a bike was with his future—not just his career. No team would have hired him with a record like this, so he must have lied to OTM too.

I felt sick. Anger and fear rioted inside me as I realized how bad this was.

Cory was so much more than the shallow, arrogant man I took him for when we first met. But suddenly I was reminded of how little I’d trusted his motives back then. His entire career was built on a foundation of ambition and self-importance. I’d known that, but I’d let myself come to believe he was more than that.

But if he was lying to me about something as serious as this, how well did I really know him?

I put the files back together, dumping them into the box and shoving it aside. I didn’t care if he found out I’d gone snooping in his things.

I was his wife .

We were supposed to be a team.

He promised me he was going to protect us. But he’d lied. Because every time he got on that bike, he risked everything we’d talked about for our future.

I’d put everything on the line for him. The job I was doing, my public image, the feelings of my son...I’d let myself get married to Cory and then actually come to trust that what we had was more than that initial contract. That what we had was real.

Snatching up a random pair of dress shoes, I threw them in my suitcase and slammed it shut. Vacillating between rage and heartache, I grabbed it off the bed and left, working to calm down before I arrived at Geena’s.

“He’ll be right out,” she said, her sing song voice grated over me worse than normal as I turned away from her. “You okay, Sky? ”

I knew better than to think her concern was genuine, but it told me I needed to get it together or Micah would pick up on something. “Yeah. Just thinking about what the doctor said this morning.”

Geena hummed. “Yeah. It sounded like Micah had a great time.” She laughed, “Even better since Tommy wasn’t there to make a fuss.”

Convinced I’d heard her wrong, I spun her way. “What do you mean?”

She sighed. “You know. He’s a bit of a baby when it comes to doctors.”

The admission felt like a breakthrough, like Geena wasn’t completely delusional about the man she was about to marry. A revelation that stabbed me right in the gut; because suddenly I felt like I had been.

Had I really let myself be deceived again?

“Micah was telling me about learning how to calm himself down. If this specialist can really help him when he gets scared during an attack, we might not have to go the hospital, and then everyone will be a lot happier.” She was so pleased with the idea she hadn’t noticed me turn away again, swallowing down the tears that wanted to come.

“Hi Momma!” Micah’s voice rose up from behind me and I sucked in a quick inhale, spinning to greet him with a smile.

“Hey champ, you ready?”

“I’m ready to roll,” he said, sounding just like his father as he leapt down the steps.

“Thanks, Geena.”

“No problem, see you guys next week.”

When Cory called later, I let it go to voicemail, texting to say I’d been giving Micah his bath and would call him after. But I never did. I didn’t know what exactly I was going to say to him, but I needed to see his face when I told him I knew the truth.