Salvage, page 15
“Think I can hold your hand, Vi?” The man blushed like he was fourteen again. The crimson tint of his tanned skin went straight to my heart.
“I mean.”
He chuckled low. The sound wrapped around my already-gasping doubts, suffocating them completely. Rowan slid his hand into mine and wove our fingers together. He led us to the path, and as soon as he ducked into the line of trees, he brought our joined hands to his mouth to kiss my fingers.
My breath caught.
It was a small gesture – a tiny little token he stopped doing a while ago. Just one of those silly actions I missed. The ones that let me know Rowan loved me. Tears prickled the back of my eyes as we walked through the glowing palette of gold and orange leaves. Eastwood was always a living tableau of vibrant, colorful life. The bright red foliage ignited the gray sky with life and hope.
Dali pranced up ahead of us on the paved path, while Picasso stayed closer, constantly looking back to make sure we were still behind him. I swear the dog did a doubletake when he saw Rowan and me holding hands, but it might have been my imagination.
“How are things at Bullseye?” Rowan inquired with a panty-dropping smirk. It was another little thing he stopped doing. Not only taking an interest in my work but in my day-to-day. Wondering how I was instead of being a quiet roommate.
Something has to be said for the little everyday gestures that hold up a relationship. The tiny little stuff that can so easily be forgotten but, in the end, is the bedrock.
Saying I love you.
Hello and goodbye kisses.
Simple touches.
Ordinary chats.
Rowan stopped seeing me, and I stopped trying to be seen. We gave up on each other in a lot of ways. As much as I watched his spark go out, I was witnessing him coming back to life.
“Earth to Vi. Did you fall into your thoughts?”
I tsked my tongue. “No, no. Only trying to find the right way to explain the latest situation. Dad is still dodging me.” I explained how the great John Ross wanted to keep lording his business loan over me.
“Give the dude a break, Violet. You know it’s not from lack of faith.”
“It doesn’t really matter why he won’t let me buy him out. What matters are the meetings we gotta have every time I wanna make a decision about my business. Meetings, I might add, we haven’t had in nearly a month because he keeps canceling.”
Rowan feigned a gasp, good humor lightening the blue of his eyes. “John Ross is breaking one of his business rules? What has the world come to?”
“You tease, but that just proves something is going on here.”
I was so engrossed in our conversation, so completely enamored with this moment in Rowan’s presence, of our easy exchange, I didn’t even spot a couple coming our way.
“Hey, guys!” Élodie Paradis, Eastwood’s resident maple syrup goddess, waved.
Her boyfriend, Bastian, was one of Rowan’s closest buds and a fellow firefighter. She also happened to be one of Daphne’s best friends.
The fun of small towns.
Dali walked right up to their dog, an old German shepherd, and sniffed him. Tater didn’t seem concerned by her advances, preferring to stay by Élodie. Picasso, shy baby he was, ducked behind Rowan’s legs.
“Hi,” I greeted back with a grin.
Please don’t ask if we’re back together, or I swear, I will make you do a hundred lunges next time we have a sword-fighting class.
“Beautiful afternoon for a walk by the river,” Bastian commented with a sly smirk.
Oh, the dude was trouble. He wouldn’t flat-out ask how we had gotten back together, probably because they had recently hit a bit of a bump in the road themselves.
“How’s life at the Munsters’?”
Élodie elbowed his side, but Bastian expertly grabbed her hand, turning the movement into a cute embrace.
It reminded me of Rowan and me.
“We should do dinner soon,” Élodie said excitedly. “You can bring the doggos. We’ll lock up Grumpy Grizzy, but it could be loads of fun. We can get Colson and my sister, too, while we’re at it.”
“Easy, sugar,” Bastian chuckled.
She waved him off. “I’ll make Nanaimo bars for dessert.”
“And you’re evil,” I shot back.
“I know,” she quipped proudly. “But in reality, I’ve already made them for the last Bake and Bitch. Freezer is full.”
“What else is new, am I right?” Rowan joked.
After a few more pleasantries and a promise that we would set a date for dinner, the cheery couple went on their way. I turned back to watch them go. Élodie was skipping, her wavy brown hair floating in the cold wind. We got along fine, but her exuberance was sometimes a little much for me. Probably because we were both intense in our own way.
“I guess now that we’ve been seen, we kinda have to address a couple of things.” Rowan grimaced with discomfort.
“I mean.”
“Right.” He nodded, running his fingers through his short beard. “We knew we might be spotted by the river. We weren’t exactly super discreet.”
“Then there were the matching Halloween costumes, brought to you in part by your meddling mother and Diego.”
“That, too.” His laughter was genuine, but he added in a more serious tone, “People will talk.”
“People will always talk, Brawnan.” I used his nickname in hopes of fanning the flames of our connection. “It’s Eastwood. Either you’re old, judging out of boredom, or you’re young and gossiping about others to keep your own shit private.”
“Very true.”
Silence stretched on.
“Vi, can you say more than I mean? ‘Cause I’m not sure what it meant there.”
My feet froze, pulling us to a stop.
Do. Not. Panic. Tell him the truth.
“I honestly have no idea. We don’t owe anyone an explanation.”
So much for the truth, Vi.
His wince was barely noticeable. “Do we owe each other an explanation?”
It was my turn to cringe. “Probably.”
He chuckled, dropping a kiss to my temple. “Can I tell you what I’m thinking?”
“Of course.” My throat was clogged with all of my essential organs.
“I love you, you love me.” He waited for my nod to go on. “We hit one hell of a rough patch, but I’m committed to working through it…” His gaze locked on mine. “If that’s what you want.”
A breath whooshed out of me. “Yeah, Rowan. Of course that’s what I want.”
One of his brows arched up. He couldn’t have been more shocked. “For real?”
“Yes. I meant it when I said I regretted that night at the bonfire.”
Rowan licked his lips as his Adam’s apple bobbed. He let go of my hand, reaching around his neck. He pulled off his leather cord necklace. His fingers shook as he opened the small leather pouch: a silver chain and a cluster of amethysts glimmered in his hands.
“Look, Violet. I know I fucked up. Continuously and in some pretty big ways. I’m even aware that I’ve apologized for this exact thing before. But think we can be us again?”
He held out his hand, my necklace waiting in his palm.
“We can definitely be us again, Rowan.”
He took me in his arms, spinning me around a few times. Confused, the dogs began to jump around us, barking up a storm. Rowan only set me down long enough to place the pendant around my neck. His gentle kiss built hope and expectations in my heart.
I was a jammer. I could keep on lapping the track, dodging Rowan’s moods and dismal attitude until the wind got knocked out of me, until I couldn’t take it anymore.
And for him, I could take a little more.
19
Cheese of the Gods
Rowan
The arena’s parking lot was surprisingly full. I spotted Penny’s vehicle parked way out of the lines because she drove like a two-year-old high on a pound of sugar. I hated when Vi rode with her. I’d been to too many car wrecks to not give Penny shit whenever I saw her behind the wheel.
“Penny should take Drivers’ Ed,” I joked to Violet, jutting my head toward her best friend’s car.
Violet snorted. “I tried that. She claims she’s done it.”
“Hmm. And do we believe her?”
“Not a chance,” Vi answered with a giggle.
Not being a complete asshole, I parked the truck as far away from the entrance as possible. The bed took up part of another spot.
Even at just over a million people in population, Ottawa was too city for me. Out here, I couldn’t see the stars or hear the rush of the river. Even the air smelled wrong. The sweet scent of pumpkins and hay was replaced by things I didn’t want to describe.
No wonder Hollis was a grumpy jerk. No one could live in this city and not long to be part of a small community. The arsonist and the mess he made of the Caribou River investigation had no place here tonight. I was in Ottawa to support Violet. I made a commitment to be present and a good boyfriend that day by the river.
This time, I wouldn’t fuck it up. I would live my life and find a way to deal with the pain that snuck in.
“On a scale of one to ten, how mad is Pénélope that you drove in with me?” I grabbed Vi’s gym bag from the back of the truck and slung it over my shoulder before we made our way toward the arena doors.
Violet waved me off. “Not at all. I bet she was happy to fly on the highway without me reminding her to do her lane changes like a grownup.”
“I still don’t get why you ride with her if you hate how she drives. You hate not being in the driver’s seat.”
“I let you drive,” she pointed out, nudging me.
“Vivi, you let me drive.” I cocked an eyebrow at her, smirking in feigned disbelief.
“Well, what?” She shrugged. “I like being behind the wheel.”
“You like being in control,” I corrected, kissing her temple. “That’s why you like driving and hate being a passenger. It’s also why you became a jammer. You rely on your teammates to clear a path and defend you, but when you lap the other team, you’re on your own. You don’t have to hold on to the pack.”
“And I don’t want to report to my dad when I make business decisions. I know what I want. Nothing wrong with that. You’d think the man who raised me to be independent would want me to be actually independent.” She clicked her tongue. “I’m very aware that I’m lucky to have a parent willing and able to help me start a new business. I just wish Dad would let me pay him back. You know?
“I don’t know, Vi. If tomorrow, the bank called to tell Diego and me we didn’t have to pay them back? I’d be real happy, but our business isn’t doing as well as Bullseye.” That was definitely on me, but I’d managed to get four new clients in the last few days and convinced Diego to take a few days off. The man deserved some time after what I put him through.
“It’ll all work out. And my offer to do joint memberships still stands.”
It was an idea Violet had when her father refused to be an investor for the Eastwood Gym. Her way of making sure Diego and me succeeded. She wanted to offer a bundle deal where members of Bullseye’s many classes could use our gyms at a discounted rate and get a free training session with one of us. Her research suggested that those freebies usually turned into full-blown clients.
“I’ll think about it.” For the first time, I meant it. I hadn’t taken her up on this. My reasons were petty. I wanted to prove that I could build something. I owed it to Diego now to try everything I could to make our gym work. No. Fucking thrive.
“I like that answer, Brawnan.”
Violet took my hand in hers, giving it a good squeeze. She knew she had a thing with control on a theoretical level. But she didn’t — couldn’t — admit to herself that it was her drug of choice.
Some people self-destruct.
Others hyper control.
It’s a thing.
“Thanks for coming to watch the game,” Violet said, her voice so full of emotion, it made me ache.
“Of course.”
Only, not so much of course as all that. Violet joined the Patriarchy Smashers a couple of years ago. I’m not an idiot; I knew back then why she joined and kept on participating. I wasn’t home much, choosing to be at the station or… doing… things. There were huge swatches of time completely lost to me.
Holes in my memory.
Fuck knows what kind of person, son, boyfriend, buddy, business partner I was during those moments.
My money was on flaming asshole with a hint of surliness. Maybe some silent treatment thrown in for good measure.
“I’m gonna go change. You can sit wherever, but if you go a bit higher in the stands, you get a bird’s-eye view. That’s the best. I’m the one with the star on her helmet.”
I leaned down to give her a good luck kiss. “Like I couldn’t spot you in a crowd, Vi.”
I could find her in a packed stadium with a blindfold on. Too bad that didn’t happen when I was in the grips of my dark days. I’d never lose sight of her again.
I cupped her face in my hands, dipping my tongue into her mouth. “Give ‘em hell, baby.” I playfully swatted her ass once she took her bag from me. Vi winked playfully before disappearing into the locker room.
I slowly made my way to the stands, looking around the arena. It was basically a massive gymnasium. The kind you’d see in a high school. That alone flooded me with all kinds of memories. I spent a lot of time in the Eastwood High School gym watching Vi’s games. She was on so many teams back then: track, volleyball, ringette. So long as it didn’t interfere with her MMA schedule, she was into it. When Craig died, that all stopped for a while. She never went back to competing. It took up a lot of time, and Violet wanted her parents to focus on Daphne and Tavish. That was the kind of person Vi was.
It’s not like she could have competed in her condition, anyway.
When she picked up sports again, she threw herself into every team she could. By the time we were in eleventh grade, she was one of Eastwood’s star athletes. She played in a few leisure leagues through college.
I hadn’t seen one of her roller derby games. That was telling, and I didn’t like the story it told.
As I watched Violet skate a few laps around the track, I made a vow. I repeated it every time she passed by me.
I won’t let you down. Not ever again.
She waved at me, blowing me a kiss while Penny flipped me off with a grin.
At least one of them had hope for my newly made promise.
Roller derby was fascinating to watch.
Seriously.
It was way more intense than I could’ve guessed. You say roller derby, and all I imagine are those old-school roller skate dances. Poodle skirts and cutesy pop music from the ‘50s.
Yeah. This isn’t that.
These women could teach footballers a thing or two about blocking.
Violet looped around the track, passing the other team’s pack. Her own teammates created a hole for her with elbows and just about any maneuver they could pull.
Round, round, round. Each go gathered speed. Increased danger. Heartrates, too.
Her opponents were none too happy with her rapid sweeps through their ranks. One of them broke away and tripped Violet. The collision sent her crashing to the floor. If she hadn’t been at a turn, she would have been free and clear.
She skidded across the hardwood.
Watching her fall was a shot to the heart.
Not in a good way.
I jumped to my feet, my hands gripping my snapback. The squeak of skin against the floor and the thud of her body whacking into the boards were sharp pains to my gut.
There was nothing I could do.
I couldn’t run down to her. Vi would have my ass if I did that, anyway.
She slowly got to her feet, using the boards to hoist up. She moved her left wrist in small, tentative circles. Her winces were jabs to the solar plexus. I edged a step toward the aisle as I tried to read her emotions from my vantage point.
You can’t even do that when she’s in your arms.
I shoved the thought away as Violet hit her hips. The sign to stop the clock. The player who knocked Violet down skated up to her, and they exchanged pleasantries.
Like they were the best of friends.
Not like the chick had made her eat wood.
Women were baffling. If that was me on the ice – even during a friendly game with the guys from Station 1 and 3 – I would’ve lost my damn mind.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets and rocked on my heels before forcing myself back into my seat. The couple beside me gaped; no doubt they judged me for my visceral reaction.
“That’s my lady,” I explained lamely.
“First game, huh?” one of them asked with a chuckle.
“Yeah,” I answered, taking off my hat. I scraped my scalp and ran my hair back with way more force than needed. It cleared my head.
Fuck, I hope Vi is okay.
She wouldn’t walk away from the game. Even if she was badly hurt. That wasn’t her style. I’d seen Violet finish a fight with a cracked rib.
“Better take a breath, bud. That was nothing.”
Figured. Thanks, Tips.
Maybe I wasn’t cut out to watch. It was a good time, for sure, but seeing the woman I love get rammed into a board turned up the macho nob all the way to eleven. This reaction wasn’t new. The intensity of it? That was.
The rest of the game was much of the same, but Violet managed to not get hurt despite the other team’s best efforts. When she rammed into the pack, nearly toppling down, I decided I’d run her a hot bath full of Epsom salts as soon as we got home.
She earned herself some good relaxation.
But maybe that was me.
When the final buzzer announced the end of the game, Vi’s team erupted in cheers and high-fives. I noticed her wince every time she returned the celebratory gesture. That wrist was giving her a hard time. Maybe I’d book her an appointment with Colson for some physical therapy. While I waited for her to change, I sent him a quick text.
