Page 3 of Striker’s Foul (Shiver of Chaos #3)

“Jude Lucas, watch your mouth. I was just crying. Julian and I had a fight. What do you mean Julian flipped over Luke?”

“Right in the parking lot. Why are you and Julian arguing?”

“Don’t worry about it. I have to get ready. What time is practice tomorrow? Do your homework.”

“Mama, no homework. This prep school is easy. Can I just go to the regular high school? Practice is at one.”

He moves to the kitchen, opens up the fridge, and stares inside. I swear, that boy is not only always hungry, but he stands there like he’s trying to cool the whole apartment off with the fridge door wide open.

My papa’s words roll through my mind. “Jude boy, stop refrigerating the whole kitchen just to grab the same thing every time you open the fridge.”

Papa died about six months ago, and it hit me harder than when Mama or Grammy passed.

Mama died right after I moved to Texas. She couldn’t handle what her disease was doing to her and took her own life.

Grammy died ten years ago from a stroke.

Losing Papa was the worst for me. He and I were so close.

He and Julian were the male influences in my son’s life.

I have other males in my life, but my father isn’t one of them.

He hasn’t been a part of our lives since he washed his hands of me before Jude was born.

I push the memories back and walk into my bedroom, then through my closet to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror. After washing my face with cool water, I apply moisturizer, then eye cream, and finish with a bit of bronzer. I check my hair to make sure it looks good.

Before heading downstairs, I kiss Jude on the top of his head as he lounges on the sofa, watching a soccer game. “Love you, buddy.”

“Mama, can you have Cook make me a burger and fries? Love you too.”

“I can.”

I head downstairs, where the employees are already moving around, getting ready for tonight. My cowgirl boots click against the hardwood floor as I walk to the hostess station.

“Hello, Lia. We have full reservations. Chef Les said we’re good on supplies, and all we’re missing is you.” Leticia, my manager, chuckles, and I smile up at her.

Leticia used to be a nurse until she lost her job after causing drama.

Julian didn’t want me to hire her, but I had a feeling she’d be a good fit, and I haven’t regretted it.

She told me her side of the story. I didn’t disagree with her losing her job, but I applauded her for learning her lesson and moving on.

“Good. Let’s get this show on the road.”

My next stop is the kitchen, where I check in with Chef Les and give her Jude’s order.

I was lucky to get her. She left Boston to get away from a bad situation and decided to come back home.

She’s a bit younger than me, so we didn’t run in the same circles when we both lived here before.

I’m just glad I snagged her before anyone else did.

The night progresses, and I take a turn behind the bar, impressing guests when I spin the bottles like the other bartenders.

I practiced hard for years to build this kind of confidence.

My papa always said a good owner should be able to cover any position in their restaurant or they had no business owning one.

I can cook, though nothing like my chef.

But in a pinch, I can whip up burgers, Southern fare, and some good smoked dishes.

Alessa, or Les, is not only a professionally trained chef but also a top-winning barbecue pit master. She was a rare find, and I’m never letting her go if I can help it. She’s my little blonde spitfire in the kitchen.

“Lia, there is a gentleman here to see you,” Leticia says as I hand a drink to a patron waiting for their table at the bar.

She points toward a table near the whiskey barrel wall I’ve set up to section off a private room, which is currently hosting a party.

I can’t believe he would show up after all these years.

I turn to my bartenders. “I’ll be back.”

Moving through the tables, I make my way to the man I now call the sperm donor. Harold is in a suit, acting like he’s above everyone here. That was always his problem. He thought he was superior.

It still shocks me that he’s a state representative in DC. It shouldn’t, though. He used my mama’s death for his own gain. He even played the sympathy card about his daughter running away and never coming home. All lies.

He tells voters my mama died from her disease.

He hides the truth that she took her own life because her spouse refused to help her and called her a burden instead of showing compassion.

He said her disease reflected badly on him.

Her tremors kept her from dancing with her husband.

That’s all he cared about. What the good people of DC or even Providence would think. Not what was important, which was her.

Pulling out the seat across from him, I sit down, knowing he wouldn’t be stupid enough to bring the flavor of the month here. He had been cheating on Mama before the ink dried on their marriage certificate.

“What do you want?” I don’t mince my words.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back to town?”

It’s so hard not to roll my eyes at him.

“Why should I? Did you want a press conference so you could keep spreading your lies?” I hate the things he told the press after I left and Mama died.

“My press secretary had to spin something to cover your absence. It wasn’t anything against you.”

“Really? Because that’s not how it felt.”

I don’t want to sit here, but between Luke showing up and now the sperm donor, I guess today is just one long reintroduction of all things I left behind.

“Please try not to flaunt your bastard around town. If you’re asked, just say you were somewhere other than Texas. I don’t need my constituents doubting my leadership.”

“He’s not a bastard. He’s your grandson.” I stand. “Now, I have to get back to work. Get out,” I order him, then glance at the bouncers who remain out of sight unless I need them.

I give a nod, and one of them starts walking over.

My real dad was my papa. He was a man. This idiot is just the man who knocked up my mom. I hate him with every fiber of my being.

I pause mid-step as a thought hits me. I turn around and head back to him.

“Did you say something to Luke?”

“I wouldn’t speak to that ghetto trash. I should have never given him a choice.”

I shake my head at his words.

“What?”

“Nothing. Don’t speak to the press unless you clear it with me first.”

“Whatever.”

I brush him off and head for the kitchen, needing to cool down.

As I move through the room, I feel eyes on me. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me. I know I attract attention. But this feels different.

I glance around, and sure enough, there’s a man sitting at the bar watching me. When he sees me looking, he quickly drops his eyes to his drink.

Before stepping into the kitchen area, I glance back and catch sight of Harold being shown out.

The man at the bar is watching that situation.

He’s wearing a leather vest, but the back is plain.

No large shark design like the others wore earlier.

I didn’t see a patch on the front either when I first noticed him.

I’ll have to keep an eye on him. I told them I didn’t want any of their members here unless they could behave.

This one isn’t causing a scene. He’s sitting quietly at the bar.

Still, I pull my cell phone from my back pocket and send a quick text to Earl, the head of my bouncers, letting him know to keep an eye on the guy.

By the time I close the bar I’m exhausted, and not just the usual kind.

I’m physically and emotionally spent tonight.

After locking everything up, I make my way upstairs.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I set the motion detector alarms for the roadhouse and close the door.

Jude left a light on in the kitchen, along with a note.

Love you, Mom. I’ll call and wake you up on my first break.

Because Jude goes to a private prep school, he only has half days a couple of times a week.

I can pick him up to take him to practice in town, then we come home so I can get ready for the night.

Twice a week, I have Leticia open for me because of games I won’t miss.

We’re open every night except Mondays. Games are Saturdays and Wednesdays for right now.

One is for his city league, and the other is for the school team.

I hate missing busy Saturdays, but I go in after we get home. My son is my priority.

Jude started showing his soccer skills when he was young.

I couldn’t believe it and didn’t want to admit he was just like his father, but I couldn’t deny it.

Now he’s on the same path his father was, being recruited by more advanced teams. But Jude does want to go to college, so that is good. He wants to become a lawyer.

I strip out of my clothes and step into the hot shower.

I need the heat to release my muscles, and the steam will hide my tears so I don’t have to scare my son.

When Julian moved here, I was shocked, but my urge to move back was too strong.

I’ve never stopped thinking of Luke. He’s always been the only man for me.

I never got married. I never had the urge to date or seek companionship from anyone else.

Even Julian, sexy as he is, has never caught my eye.

I’ve only ever wanted Luke, even though he hurt me so badly.

By the time I climb into bed, my eyes hurt from crying and my heart aches over what I lost with Luke and what I’m about to give up with Julian.

I can’t be friends with someone who was obviously using me.

That’s the only reason I can think of for Julian wanting to be close to me when he’s friends with Luke too.

I close my eyes and pray I don’t have any dreams. Right now, I’d rather have the nightmares than the dreams.