Holly stands up and slides the stool back under the counter as she leans against the doorframe of Bill’s office. “You don’t look so good, Dad. I think it’s time you let me to take you to the hospital.”
Bill busies himself with stacking a few loose papers on his desk. “I’m fine, honey. This will pass.”
She folds her arms over her chest. “No, Dad. You’ve been saying that since I got home at the beginning of the summer. It’s time to get checked out.”
“No!” Bill yells and slams his fist onto the desk. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Holly flinches and her face twists. Bill scrubs his hands down his face and then stares up at his daughter. Things would be so much easier if he would only tell her the truth. She’ll understand—I know she will—then they can cherish the time they have left together. It’s not fair that he’s keeping something so huge from her.
“Bill...” I feel like outing him in front of her, but I quickly stop myself, knowing I’m keeping something from her too—something that her father has promised to keep secret as long as I keep his.
Bill’s gray eyes shift in my direction and I know he knows exactly what’s on my mind. “You got something to say, Trip?”
“I do, actually.” Bill’s eyes narrow at me, and I clear my throat. “Holly and I have come up with a plan to help get this place back on its feet.”
He softens his gaze and tilts his head, clearly shocked that I didn’t come out and tell Holly about his disease. “What’s that?”
Holly’s stance relaxes and she smiles and I can tell she’s trying let go of the topic of forcing Bill to the doctor. “We’re going to hold a motocross race here.”
He leans back in the chair and smoothes his thinning hair back. “How do you propose we do that? We don’t have the kind of clout needed to pull any big names here, not to mention the funding.”
“We do now.” Holly glances at me and smiles. “Trip works for a famous rock band called Black Falcon and he’s got them to agree to come here and play a couple of songs. They will draw thousands of people, Dad. Trip thinks they might even be willing to donate money, too.”
Bill chuckles and his eyes flit to me. “Is that so?”
Holly doesn’t give me a chance to address her father’s question. “Isn’t that great?”
He nods. “Yes, and as long as Trip is helping you out, I have the feeling it’s all going to turn out even better than you expect.”
Holly runs into her father’s office, no longer able to contain her excitement. She hugs him tight. “This is all going to work out, Dad. You’ll see.” She releases him and smiles. “I need to go out to the garage and see if I can dig up all the sound equipment. Do you think it’s all still out there? We haven’t used it in a while.”
“It should be, but I think it’s a good idea to get it all out and make sure it all still works since we haven’t used it in a couple years.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that.” She frowns. “If it doesn’t work that’s just more money that we don’t have that we’ll have to spend.”
Bill pats her hand. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, honey.”
“Okay. I’m going. Cross your fingers,” she tells us as she turns and heads for the door.
The moment she’s gone, Bill sets his sights on me. “You know this is going to blow your cover. It will be impossible for you to play in your own band and Holly not notice.”
“She’s going to find out sooner than that.” I pick at my thumbnail. “The moment she gets on the computer to look up the band for promotional pictures it’ll be over.”
“Ah, yes—the internet. One of the beauties of modern day technology is you can find out information about anyone from the safety of your own home. Are you worried that she will no longer be interested in you once she discovers who you are?”
I sigh. “Yes. She told me herself that she would never date anyone famous.”
“But that’s before the two of you slept together.”
My eyes widen and my heart jumps into my throat. “I...uh...um...what?”
Bill rolls his eyes. “I may be sick, but I’m not deaf. We were all staying under the same roof last night...and this morning. I know what the two of you have been up to.”
Fuck. Nothing like the father of the girl you’re sleeping with calling you out, although I will say he’s rather calm about the entire situation. If some punk like me was shagging my daughter under my nose, I would kick his fucking ass. I know his laid-back demeanor has to be a front for what he’s really thinking about me.
The best thing in this situation is to try and smooth things over. “Look, Bill, I apologize for that. I meant no disrespect towards you, or Holly for that matter. I guess I lost my head and didn’t consider my surroundings. For that, I’m sorry.”
He rests his elbows on his desk and folds his arms. “I can accept that. I remember what it was like to be young once. The thing I’m worried about is your intention.”
“About what?” I question.
“I want to know what your intentions are with not only with this place, but with my daughter as well. Getting involved with her changes the dynamics of our deal a bit, don’t you think?”
“It changes a lot,” I agree. “But I still want to be in business with you, and I’m keeping my promise to pay for your medical expenses. Holly needs you in her life.”
He frowns. “I know she does. That’s my biggest fear—leaving her all alone. When I’m gone she won’t have anyone except Max, and that scares me.”
“You don’t have to worry, Bill. I’ll take care of her,” I say.
“But you barely know her.”
“I know enough to know she’s a good person. She’s loyal and selfless. If you ask me those are some damn good traits to have. To be honest with you, Bill, I’ve been looking for someone like her all my life.” It’s odd to hear my deepest, most private thoughts said out in the open.
Holly is exactly the kind of woman I’ve always wanted. I don’t believe she’d ever betray me. It’s just not her style.
Bill leans back in his chair. “I’m glad to hear you say that, because with this disease there’s no promise of tomorrow. Knowing you and Holly are together, and that you can take care of her even better than I can, takes a load off my shoulders. I have to know, do you love her?”
How can I answer that? Love? Is that even possible to know after only a few weeks time?
When I don’t answer right away, Bill says, “You don’t have to answer that, Trip. Just do me a favor and think on it. All the best financial intentions in the world won’t matter to Holly if you don’t love her. She cares for you. I see the way she looks at you. You’re the real reason she was able to finally tell Jackson goodbye and mean it. My daughter has been searching for real love ever since her mom ran out on us. She thought she’d found that in Jackson, but all that boy did was lie to her. I’m asking you to always be honest with her and don’t lead her on if you don’t see an actual future with her. There’s something that happens to people who miss out on a mother’s love. It triggers a never-ending search for unconditional love. So don’t tell her you love her unless you really mean it. Lying to her will only hurt her more.”
I swallow hard and nod. Toying with Holly’s heart isn’t something I ever want to do. It’s the main reason I fought against my desire to sleep with her in the first place. She’s the relationship kind of girl, and I knew that when I slept with her. Now I just have to figure out where she and I go from here. All I know right now is that I want to be with her. The rest I’ll have to figure out. “I understand.”
Bill smiles. “I know you do.”
HOLLY
The next week flies by. Every moment of every day is spent working on organizing the race. Trip received confirmation back that the band will play at our race the very day he called them. Trip seems very excited that Black Falcon is coming here because he went to work getting graphics made for the signage for the event. Working alongside Trip has b
een great. Not once has he laughed at my ideas, or tried to take over like Jackson would’ve done if he’d been the one helping me.
We haven’t slept apart since that first night we had sex. Sleeping with Trip has quickly become something I crave. Every little touch from him ignites a fire in my belly that only he can extinguish—something he is always eager to do.
I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve been a complete horn-dog lately. Trip has a crazy effect on me. It’s like I can’t get enough of him. Even when he’s with me, I’m constantly thinking of him, which is making my job confirming all the riders for this weekend difficult.
I press end on my cell phone and grin at Trip, who looks up me from his computer screen. “Charlie Chance just confirmed. That’s one hundred and fifty riders in total for an open-class race. I think we’ve got enough bikes to have some great heats in the 125 and 250 classes.”
Trip closes his laptop. “That’s great news. One hundred and fifty is the goal, right?”
I nod. “Yes. It’s the perfect number for our small race. The next one we do can go bigger. How’s the budget looking?”
“It’s completely under control. We’ve sold enough pre-order tickets to totally fund the event. This will give the track a great boost to get back on its feet.”
“I’m excited to meet the band and thank them in person for all they’ve done,” I say.
Trip sighs. “About that...there’s something I need to tell you.”
Pain appears in the expression on his face. I’ve never seen him like this. It’s like he’s being tortured with his own thoughts. I reach for his hand, willing away the hurt in his eyes. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll work through it.”
He sucks in his lower lip. “I’m actually—”
Before Trip has time to tell me whatever he was going to say, Dad bursts through the office door. “Trip come quick! Jackson is beating the hell out of Max. I’m not strong enough to break them up. I need your help!”
I suck in a quick breath as Trip flies off his stool and toward the door. I’m right on his heels as he comes to a skidding stop on the front porch. My eyes lock on the grotesque display of human behavior before me. Max lies on the ground in a curled up ball, while Jackson towers over him, shouting slurs.
My hand covers my mouth. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Jackson did an excellent job of hiding his true colors from me. I know Max told me how Jackson treated him, but never imagined I would witness this scene.
Jackson yanks his leg back and kicks Max square in the stomach before he bends down and says, “I’ll give you something to really cry about to the cops, you fucking homo.”
I gasp as Trip pushes forward and leaps over the banister, landing on Jackson’s back. A cloud of dust engulfs them and they immediately begin tearing into each other. It’s hard to tell where Trip ends and Jackson begins. They roll around on the ground, both trying to gain the upper hand. Trip’s size finally overpowers Jackson and he takes control.
Trip slams his fist into Jackson’s face, and Jackson’s head rocks back. “Why don’t you pick on someone who isn’t afraid to fight back?” Trip punches him again. “You fucking coward.”
Trip’s hands wrap around Jackson’s throat as blind rage takes hold of him. I grab Dad’s arm.
Oh God, please don’t let Trip kill him. Jackson isn’t worth Trip going back to jail for.
Jackson reaches up and shoves the heel of his hand into Trip’s face. Jackson is having trouble getting air because of Trip’s hold because his face turns beet red.
Max groans and rolls onto his back on the ground, just as sirens blare in the distance.
My gaze whips to Dad and panic sets in as I think about Trips past brushes with the law. I don’t want him to get into any trouble over Jackson. “You called the cops?”
He nods. “I had to, honey. There’s no way I can get involved physically. Besides, after what Jackson did to Max, the cops need to witness his handiwork. That boy needs to serve a little time.”
The first thought that enters my mind is Trip’s past. He’s been in trouble for this sort of thing before. If the police show up and see this, his past may cause him major problems.
I rush off the porch and my dad yells for me to stop, but I don’t listen. My own safety isn’t important right now. I reach Trip just as I hear a car coming down the long gravel driveway. He’s so focused on hurting Jackson that he’s oblivious to everything else going on around him.
I grab his arm and pull. “Trip, let him go. The cops are coming. They can’t see you like this.”
It takes a couple more hard tugs before he realizes I’m right there with him. “Holly, get back. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I shake my head furiously. “No. Not until you back away from him. He’s not worth it, Trip. Come on. Please,” I beg.
Trip’s gaze shoots from me to Jackson and then back to me before he releases his fingers. Jackson gasps for air and begins to cough, while Trip stares down at his hands. “What the hell am I doing?” It’s almost as if he’s whispering to himself more than me.
I help him up to his feet just as a police cruiser skids to a stop in the gravel in front of us. A young male officer jumps from the car and leaves his door wide open as he slaps his hat on his head and approaches Trip and I, his hand near the gun holstered on his side. The distinct sound of hard-rock music blasts from the car, like the guy was pumping himself up on the ride out here.
The stocky cop is about half a foot shorter than Trip’s six-foot height, but appears to be about the same age. The officer’s brown eyes roam around, accessing the situation before his sights turn back to Trip and I. I stand behind Trip, clinging to his arm, while the cop determines if the tattooed man standing before him is an immediate threat.
The cop clears his throat. “I’m Officer King. What’s going on out here?”
I open my mouth to explain, but Trip beats me to the punch. “This guy”—he points down at Jackson—“came out here uninvited and started beating on our friend over there for no reason.”
Officer King nods. “I see, and I suppose you stopped it?”
“Yes. I couldn’t stand by and let him get away with hurting my friend. Max has a restraining order against him. It should be on file.”
Jackson pushes himself up at the same time Max does. I race over to Max and help him to his feet. “Are you okay?”
Max nods. “I think so. It’s not as bad as last time. Thank God for Trip, huh?”
I hug Max. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Maybe now the law will actually do something about Jackson.”
“On your feet,” the officer commands while glaring down at Jackson. “I need to see some identification from all of you.” The guys all fish their wallets from their back pockets and hands Officer King their drivers licenses. “You all stay put while I run these through.”
Max and I walk over and stand next to Trip, while Jackson keeps a safe distance, leaning against his car.
Trips clamps Max’s shoulder. “You all right, buddy?”
Max winces and Trip offers an apologetic frown. “I’m okay. Thank you for what you did. I owe you one.”
“Any friend of Holly’s, is a friend of mine.” He slings his arm over my shoulders and pulls me into him.
Max grins at me. “Your girl, huh? I always knew you had a thing for him. I should start a dating service with my mad relationship-predicting skills.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re lucky you’re wounded, because that would’ve earned you a smack.”
Max laughs and then winces as he grabs his ribs. “You know you love me.”
Trip and I both chuckle. It’s good to see Max hasn’t lost his playful spirit, and my heart aches knowing he’s been going through hell for so long and I didn’t stop it.
A moment later, the officer returns from his vehicle with a mean scowl on his face. He hands Max back his license first and then turns to Jackson, “I’m going to need you to turn around and place your hands b
ehind your back.”
My mouth drops open at the same time Max says, “Holy shit.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I say as I watch the cop cuff Jackson’s hands behind his back.
“You can’t do this, you know,” Jackson says over his shoulder to Office King, who is busy reading him the Miranda rights. “Do you know who I am? You won’t be able to hold me long. I have money and lawyers.”
Officer King tightens the cuffs and Jackson winces. “I know exactly who you are. Ask me if I give two shits that you’re some dirt bike hot shot. We have pictures on file of what you did to Max over there. We’ve been looking for you. Seems you’ve been hiding from us over the last week. The guys down at the station will be happy to finally meet you, especially your new cellmates. They love meeting celebrities who hate homosexuals.”
“No. You can’t do this. Please,” Jackson begs as the cop leads him to the back of the cruiser and shoves him inside. I chuckle when the door slams in his face.
The cop straightens his clothes and readjusts the hat on his head before heading in our direction. “We’re going to take him in for violating the restraining order. Would either of you two gentlemen like to press charges against Mr. Cruze?” Both Max and Trip both shake their heads at the same time and Officer King sighs. “I figured you’d say that. Let me give you a word of advice. Even though he probably came here to start trouble with the two of you, he’s going to claim he didn’t know the two of you would be here and that you attacked him.”
“But officer that’s not what happened,” I chime in.
He looks at me. “I know that, but it’ll basically be their word against his. There’s nothing in the restraining order barring him from coming to Mountain Time specifically, and he is a well-known motocross figure, a judge is likely to side with him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say.
“I agree, but Jackson may want to go after Trip as well for financial gain. He probably knows you’re worth millions. You should really keep that in mind Mr. Douglas and press charges first.” Office Kings hands Trip back his license.