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CHAPTER EIGHT

FORD

This isn’t an apartment.

It’s a glorified closet.

The kitchen is just big enough that turning sideways allows Juliet to slide past where shock has glued my feet to the ground.

I don’t understand.

“You can wipe the surprise off your face,” she mutters as she opens the freezer.

There’s nothing but a few ice trays and a carton of sherbert.

My jaw drops. How the hell did she go from a penthouse to an impersonal closet with mismatched furniture and an empty fridge?

I’m trying to put the pieces together, but none of it makes sense. Who the hell is Earl, and why is she giving him money? Is that why she doesn’t have any food in her fridge? What happened to all the money Tyler made? Even if for some reason she didn’t receive anything in his will, there was a settlement for the families of the crash. She should sit pretty for the rest of her life if she was smart about spending it.

Juliet grimaces as she cracks the ice, and I notice a slight limp in her step when she moves to grab a sandwich bag and slide a few cubes in.

“You’re hurt.” I step toward her, but she meets it with a step back, pressing herself against the counter.

Her gaze narrows, and she offers me the ice. “I’m fine.”

She’s not.

Setting the ice on the counter, I swiftly slide up next to her and sweep her against my chest in a bridal carry.

She gasps and wraps her arms around my neck. For a split second, I can imagine she’s not about to blow up on me.

Of course. She does.

“Put me down!” she shrieks. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping you,” I grind out, careful to keep my injured hand clear of her thrashing legs. There’s still enough adrenaline coursing through my veins that it’s only an aching throb. I’m sure I formed my fist right for the punch, but something popped when I connected with Earl’s face, and it’s quite possible I might have tweaked something.

“I’m not a damsel in distress.”

“No, you’re a stubborn woman who won’t let anyone help you.”

“Not when you’re the Hulk, rushing in with fists and muscles.”

“Eh.” I shrug, “I’ve been called worse.”

I set her down on her bed, on top of a comforter that looks like it could be straight out of the seventies.

“Nice blanket.”

She rolls her eyes and opens her mouth, I’m sure to rip me a new asshole,but stops when a streak of orange darts out from behind her dresser—also from another era—and lands in her lap.

Juliet smiles down at the fluffy ball of fur and scratches underneath the fat cat’s chin. “It’s okay, Lodhi. He’s not staying.”

Well, I’m not leaving. Not without some answers.

The cat nestles against her chest before glaring at me and hissing.

“I know. I feel the same way,” she mutters.

Fucking cat.

It’s a good thing I’ve never been fond of felines, anyway.

Juliet pauses her pets and looks up, raising her eyebrows.

“Don’t look at me like I’m the one who has something to explain.” I glance down at the bed and think better of sitting next to her for this conversation when the damn cat starts pacing in front of me. He’s looking at me like he’d like to make me his next meal.

Fuck that.

I take a step back and lean against the dresser. Cocking my head toward the hallway, I soften my tone and ask, “You going to clue me in on what’s going on?”

“It’s really none of your business.”

“Nope, we’re past that.” I cross my arms over my chest, pretending to get comfortable when really my head is spinning a little from the pain in my hand. “Let’s start small and work up to the asshole outside. Why are you living in this shit hole apartment and working as a topless maid? I know damn well Tyler didn’t live here when he was alive, and you received enough to be set for life with the settlement from the crash.”

Her jaw tightens. “Again, I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“The hell it’s not, Juliet. He’d want me to take care of you.”

“Try again, Hulk ,” she says with a laugh. “Tyler hated you.”

“Hulk?”

“I figured we were trying out different nicknames other than what I’ve explicitly told you my name was.”

Oh, she’s sassy when she’s fired up.

“Tyler may have hated me.” Absolutely, one hundred percent he did. “But he didn’t hate you.”

“That’s debatable,” she huffs, almost like it’s an afterthought. Then her eyes go wide as she realizes she’s said too much.

Oh no. I’m not about to let her off the hook that easily. I’m tired of the half answers.

“What the hell does that mean?”

Juliet sinks back into the pillows and turns her head to look out the small, clouded window. I can’t tell for certain, but I swear those are tears rimming her eyes.

My mind scrambles to put together a narrative in which Tyler had anything but love for this woman. From the moment he met her, he doted on her. His entire existence revolved around her. I’m wearing this because it’s Jules’ favorite color. I’m late because I had to make sure Jules made it home safely. I’m going to take the offer for the minors so I can stay close to Jules.

He even went so far as to never bring Juliet to the house because it was a gamble on if his father was going to be sober. He lived to protect her.

It’s why I never looked twice after meeting her that first day. She was Tyler’s girl. When my mom married his dad, I took so much from him. The bedroom that was supposed to be his. The star spot on every baseball team we played on. His father’s love.

The last one is debatable, but if you asked Tyler, it was true. Marcus loved the attention I brought because I was the best at what I did. At every game, he didn’t miss the chance to claim me as his son and bask in the glory for two point five seconds.

“It doesn’t matter.” Her words are confident, but the way Juliet’s lip quivers tells me it matters a whole heck of a lot.

I search what I can see of her face for the missing piece, but all I find are walls and sadness.

“Juliet,” I whisper.

Her fists tighten, scrunching the comforter between her fingers, and she turns back to face me. Gone are the tears, replaced with waves of anger and determination. “I’m only going to say this once. Don’t pretend to know my life or who I am. You left and didn’t look back. You don’t get to waltz in here like some knight in shining armor and pretend like you care.”

Maybe it’s the past haunting me, or that I don’t really want to fight with her, but I whisper, “You’re right.”

Juliet’s chest rises with a big breath, like she intends to keep reaming me, but after hearing my confession, her shoulders fall. She blinks, registering the answer she wasn’t expecting. “What?”

“You’re right.” I push off the dresser and close the space between us. Her eyes go wide, and the hint of apprehension stops me at her feet. Lowering myself to the bed, I make sure there is no part of me touching her. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe I’m pushing too much, but I want her to know I’m not going anywhere.

The cat hisses at me, and I hiss back, earning me a soft laugh from Juliet. He doesn’t move from her lap, so I think it’s safe to assume for the moment I’m not going to get clawed.

“Listen, there are a million reasons why you shouldn’t trust me. I know I don’t deserve to be the one to help you.” She opens her mouth but closes it again without saying a single word. Her lips form a tight line, like she’s trying to hold back whatever it is she wants to say. I almost ask her to speak freely, but instead press on as honestly as I can. “I fucked up with Tyler. There are so many days I regret not fighting to make him come with me. Fuck, I should have just thrown him over my shoulder and forced him into the damn car.”

A slight chuckle escapes her. “So, you’ve always had Hulk tendencies.”

I huff. “Maybe a little.”

Her eyes fall to her lap. “He wouldn’t have let you take him.”

“No.” I shake my head, echoing my words. “He made that perfectly clear when he refused to come.”

Her head snaps up, lips parted in confusion. “Wait, what?”

“What do you mean, what?”

“He refused to go with you?”

I don’t care for the hint of hurt in her tone. It sparks the same rage inside me that seeing Earl with his hands on her did.

I point to the crooked spot on my nose that never healed quite right. “He broke my face when I told him, if he stayed, his father would eventually turn on him.”

“But—” Her throat bobs, and she chokes on a half breath. “He said you and your mother left him there on purpose. He said you told him the two of you hated him and wanted him to suffer.”

“Why would we…” More of the pieces fall together. Her hatred of me makes a lot more sense. I’ve known for a long time I was the villain in the narrative Tyler twisted. He made it perfectly clear he hated me for leaving him with his abusive father. But what was I supposed to do? The man beat my mother to the point she almost needed a breathing tube. There was no way I was letting her stay in that house. Especially when I was leaving for college that summer.

Wetting my lips, I force my gaze to meet Juliet’s and silently beg for her to hear me. “I’ve never forgiven myself for walking away. My mother loved Tyler until her dying breath. He and I might have had our differences, but I never wanted him to suffer.”

Juliet’s eyes widen like I’ve grown a dick out of the center of my forehead. “I—that’s not what he told me.”

“I’m getting that now.”

Silence cuts between us. It reminds me of the scary moments during a game when someone gets injured and the entire stadium goes quiet. Everyone sits on their hands waiting to see if the player moves. Wondering if he okay. The longer he stays down, the more questions swirl. What does this mean for the future of the game? The team? His career?

I can’t help but wonder the same for Juliet and me. There’s still so much left unsaid, but this airing of truths feels like we’re moving in the right direction.

Until she proves me wrong with a sigh and a single sentence.

“It doesn’t change anything.”

But she’s wrong.

And I can’t live with that answer.

I rise from the bed with a simple plan forming in my mind. Taking a step toward her, I smile when she doesn’t flinch. It widens when the cat only pins his ears instead of hissing.

Progress.

“Give me your phone.” I say more than ask, reaching out my hand.

She lifts a perfectly arched brow, and I’m beginning to really like the expression. “Why?”

“Please?” I ask, giving her the charming smile that has been known to get me everything I want and more.

Juliet shakes her head and grabs her phone from next to her on the bed. She winces as she grabs it and offers it to me.

I frown, noticing splotchy red spots on her knuckles. “Your hands are hurt too? What happened before I got there? Did he hurt you?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “That’s from something else.”

“Are you okay, though?”

“I will be.”

My brows raise, silently asking if she’s bullshitting me.

“It’s nothing. I was diagnosed a few years back with Hashimoto’s disease. This is either stress or I ate something with gluten. Likely the first after the day I’ve had.”

Hashimoto’s? I can’t tell if it sounds like something serious or she’s making it up to get me to leave her alone, but I make a mental note to look up everything I can about it when I get home.

“And the limp. Are your knees okay? You took quite the fall.”

“I fell because my knees are swollen. Same as my hands.”

I look down at where her usually tan skin is angry and red surrounding the joint of her knees. Not like a bruise would be from a fall. This looks like something else entirely.

Shit. Probably not making it up then.

Without a second thought, I slip her phone in my pocket, head to the kitchen and make as many bags of ice as her trays will let me. Juliet protests the entire time, telling me, “You don’t need to do this.” And “It’s only a minor flare up. I’ll be fine.”

Fine, my ass. Nothing about this girl is fine. Except maybe her ass. And I only know that because I checked it out before I knew who she was. Now, though, I plan to do everything I can to make sure she is fine.

Starting with research. I don’t know what Hashimoto’s is, but in my world, when you have swollen anything, you ice it.

My own injury screams in agreement, and I know I really should do the same. But I grit through it and bring the three bags over to Juliet.

She huffs and scoffs as I place the bags. One for each knee, and one she can switch between her hands. She reluctantly mutters, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” I pull her phone from my pocket and quickly type in my number, saving it under Hulk with a little green heart emoji. Then I hit the call button and quickly end it before handing it back to her. “I put my number in your phone and called myself. Can I count on you to at least answer when I call to let me know you’re alright.”

She searches my face, for what I’m not sure, but she must find it because she nods. “But not if I’m working.”

“Topless you mean.” I hate myself the moment I say it. It’s not that I have a problem with her job, I just hate the thought that there are a number of men out there who know what she looks like naked.

Okay, so maybe I’m not thrilled about her job. But it’s her body, and who am I to tell her what to do with it. That doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.

Juliet scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Not all of us can be star baseball players.”

I don’t bother pointing out I know damn well how much Ty was making, and she shouldn’t have had to work another day in her life.

She fights a yawn, and for the first time, I notice the dark circles beneath her eyes.

“I’ll let you get some sleep.” I tug the blanket her feral cat is laying on, earning me a hiss and a view of his ass. I motion for her to lie down, and she looks up at me like I’m insane.

“Please, Juliet. I won’t pry tonight. Just let me do this small act of taking care of you.”

She makes me wait. Chewing her lower lip like it might physically pain her to give this to me.

Just when I think she’s going to tell me to fuck off, she scoffs and wiggles down so her head is on the pillow. “Fine. But just this once. And only because I’m exhausted.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, love.” The endearment slips out, but if she hears me, she doesn’t react. I spread the knit blanket out over her, smiling as she snuggles into it. “Just please let me know you’re safe.”

She looks up at me through tired eyes. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“No. I’m really not.”

She yawns again, the call of sleep too great now that she’s horizontal and warm. “On one condition.”

“Name it.” I’ll do anything to keep her from shutting me out.

“Don’t tell my family you found me.”

Okay, anything but that. Her family has been just as desperate to find her as me. I have a standing phone call with her dad most weeks. And while her mom is still upset and mourns her disappearance, they both want nothing more than to know she’s safe.

“But they are?—”

“Ford. They can’t know.”

“Okay.” I nod, even though I hate it. I only just found her. I’m not about to betray her trust. “Get some sleep.”

I’m almost to the door when I hear a muffled, “Thank you for fighting for me.”

“You’re worth fighting for,” I whisper, but the only response is an adorably soft snore.

* * *

The moment I’m in a cab, I get my agent on the phone. Max has been with me since I was first drafted into the league. He’s the kind of agent who really looks out for his players’ best interest, but also isn’t afraid to call you on your bullshit.

“Hey, Race Day.” I hate that nickname and wish it would die. The way Mercer got my agent calling me it too, to ensure it would follow me no matter what team I played for is a kindness I intend to repay him someday.

“It’s late. Is everything okay?

“Yeah.” I mean, except that I just got in a fight and probably need X-rays, but we’ll get to that in a minute. “I was hoping you could get me a list of apartments near the stadium.”

“You finally moving out of the Row?” The surprise in his voice isn’t lost on me. Not a month and a half ago I was telling him how I didn’t want to set roots since our contracts as disaster draft players are only for one year, and if I didn’t find Juliet, I didn’t know if I wanted to stay.

That doubt is gone.

Between the atmosphere at the Renegades and now Juliet, there’s no way I’m leaving. That is, as long as Willow wants to keep me on the team.

“I’m not ready to move out of the Row just yet. I just need to find a place. Furnished preferably.”

Max pauses, and I hear the uneasiness in his voice. “What’s this about? Is it something I need to be concerned about?”

This is why I pay him the absurd amount I do. I’d trust this man with my life. I do. Every day. At least with the version of myself that we present to the public. He’s the best of the best. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to tell him about Juliet. Especially when I still don’t have all the answers.

“No need to worry yet.” I reassure him, feeling only slightly guilty that I’m keeping Juliet a secret.

“If you were anyone else, I’d be worried.” He twists the knife of guilt without even knowing it. “Let me see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Max.” Pain throbs in my hand, and I know he’s going to hate what I have to admit next. “Oh, and I need you to get me in first thing tomorrow to have my hand looked at by that off-books doctor.”

“Shit.” He sighs. “Do I want to know?”

“If I tell you I defended a pretty girl, will you leave it be for now?”

He grunts, and I can picture him shaking his head in the way he does when he’s had enough of my charm. “Because I know you wouldn’t do it without just cause, yes. But if it becomes a regular thing, we’re going to have a very different conversation, and the second it involves you needing a lawyer, I need you to swear I’m your first call.”

“Cross my heart.”

“Let me know what the doc says and if there is any backlash from the team.”

“Will do.” I press my lips together and nod, knowing he can’t see me, and that I won’t tell the team a damn thing unless I have to.

After I hang up with Max, I click over to my messages and with the private investigator that followed her to figure out where her apartment was.

FORD: I’ve got another job for you.

IAN: Hit me with it.

FORD: I need you to figure out who this guy is.

I sent Ian the photo I snapped when I first arrived at Juliet’s before either of them noticed me standing there.

FORD: His name is Earl and he’ll be back at her apartment in the next few days.

IAN: On it.

FORD: Thanks.

I spend the rest of the drive back to the Row cradling my hand and replaying every word Juliet said in my head.

Tonight was progress. Baby steps. But still progress.