Tapout Page 9

  They had arrived early enough that the place was deserted, giving Olivia and Alyson exclusive access to the indoor hunting grounds. It was the perfect time to be there, because it gave Alyson time to figure out how to play the game. Of course, it also meant that Olivia was now her enemy.

  Alyson always knew that Olivia had a bit of a competitive streak. In high school, she joined the Homecoming Court—not because she wanted to be on it, but because one of the varsity cheerleaders had told her that she didn’t have a prayer of winning.

  Through some very nefarious means, of which Alyson never did find out all the details, Olivia made sure to get the votes, and she won.

  As for the girl who had challenged her? Well, she left the dance alone that night when she found her date making out with Olivia in the parking lot.

  Olivia was not one to be trifled with, Alyson reminded herself as she moved slowly and carefully through the shadowy maze. The room they were in was dark. Neon lights glowed from various points on the ceilings and walls, and a slow fog leaked from several vents in the floors. Even with perfect eyesight, all of those elements put together meant it was nearly impossible to see. That’s why she didn’t see Olivia until she was standing right in front of her, holding her gun at chest level.

  “My name is Inigo Montoya,” she said, attempting a deep, manly voice. “You killed my father, prepare to die.”

  Alyson held her hands up, her gun pointed at the ceiling. “I give! You win!” After nearly an hour of playing, she knew well what it felt like to be hit with a ball of paint. It didn’t matter how much padding she wore. It freakin’ hurt!

  Liv’s chin lifted, and an evil grin slid across her face. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled the trigger.

  Alyson heard the pop. Pop. Poppoppop! as a dozen tiny balls exploded hot pink paint all over her chest and stomach, each one delivering a sting of pain. Alyson screamed. Olivia cackled. And then, blessedly, it was over.

  “No fair,” Alyson whined, looking down at all the paint covering her. “I didn’t even get you once.”

  Olivia shrugged, uncaring, and began walking toward the exit. “That’s because you suck, and I rule. Look on the bright side. When the zombie apocalypse hits, you’ll have me and Jami covering your perky little ass.”

  Alyson pursed her lips. “Yeah? And what will I be doing while you’re off killing zombies?

  Olivia glanced over her shoulder with a playful grin. “Cooking up dinner and rearing the children, of course.”

  Alyson paused, glaring at Liv’s back as she pranced ahead. Was that all her friend thought she was good for? Because she may not have gotten a shot at her before when the heat was high, but she would now. Alyson was going to show Liv that she wasn’t the type to stand around and take orders, or lie down and be hit. She liked action, too, dammit. She could be brave. She could be a fighter.

  Lifting her gun, she looked down the sight, aimed, and fired. Olivia shrieked when the paint pellet hit her square in the back.

  “You bitch!” she shouted, whirling around to glare at her. “The game is over. You can’t shoot me!”

  Pulling the trigger again, Alyson released a few more bullets, splattering Olivia’s chest, stomach, and right thigh. Olivia shrieked in indignation. Resting the gun against her shoulder, Alyson chuckled as she slipped past Olivia and out the exit. “Looks like I just did.”

  ***

  “I still can’t believe it.” Alyson lay on Liv’s couch staring up at the ceiling, too stunned for words. Jami had called shortly after she settled in for bed. She was expecting to talk about the fight, to heap endless praises on him for yet another win, and then tell him to hurry home so she could feel his arms around her again, but that wasn’t quite how it went.

  The first thing out of Jami’s mouth had been to tell her that he lost. At first, she didn’t believe him. Jami had been on such a roll, knocking men down, knocking them out, that she must have forgotten that he was just human. Losing a fight seemed impossible. She thought he was playing a joke on her, and she was waiting for him to shout “Just kidding, babe!” But he never did.

  When she asked the obvious question, “What happened?” he laid another bombshell on her. He told her about Spencer’s gambling addiction, about how he had been skimming from the profits from his fights to fund his addiction, and most recently, ripping him off in other ways. Lately, they hadn’t been paying off. The news only worsened from there, until Alyson began to feel physically ill.

  Spencer owed a lot of money, and he didn’t have long to pay it before bad things started happening, and while Jami refused to get into the details of just what those bad things were, she used her imagination. The outlook was terrifying.

  They were standing in one giant heap of shit, and Alyson couldn’t see a clean way out of it, but there was one thing she knew for certain. “You keep saying ‘we,’” she said slowly. “Jami, there is no we. This is Spencer’s mess. He created it. You are not responsible for cleaning it up.” It sounded callous, but it was true.

  Clearly, Jami didn’t share the same opinion. “He’s my friend, Ally. I’m the only family he has. If I don’t help him, who will?” Alyson didn’t have an answer to that, so she just listened. “I know I shouldn’t have to clean up after him, and trust me, I don’t want to, but there’s no other option here. I don’t expect you to understand, but I have to do this for him. I can’t just let him be murdered because he owes someone money. Not when I have the money to save him.”

  “That’s just it, Jami,” Alyson stressed, “you said it yourself, you don’t have the money. You only have half. Yes, you can pay them tomorrow. What about next week when this guy wants the rest? You’re giving up your life savings, and it just isn’t enough.” She didn’t want to give voice to her other, darker thoughts, but Jami had to know. He must have realized that either way they cut it, if they didn’t come up with the rest of the money, Spencer was a dead man. Twelve grand was a lot of money for anyone, and aside from winning the lotto, there was no way they could scrape up that kind of cash in time.

  All they were doing was providing a false sense of hope in what Alyson could only see as a hopeless situation.

  Dead silence met her and lasted so long that Alyson began to wonder if Jami had hung up on her. Then, he sighed. The sound was one of pure exhaustion. “We have a plan,” he murmured.

  Sitting up, Alyson hunched over her blankets, as if that might help her hear better. “What?”

  “I said,” Jami repeated, his voice growing stronger, “that we have a plan.”

  Staring at the form her legs made under the light cotton covers, she found herself hoping that Jami had a viable solution. He was determined to get himself involved in Spencer’s problems, and that meant he was also in danger. If this didn’t work out, there was no telling what the criminals they were dealing with would do to Jami. Would they kill him, too? The thought gave her chills. “Then I hope it’s a good one,” she said candidly.

  “That depends.”

  Frowning at his cryptic response, Alyson asked, “On what?”

  Jami seemed to struggle with finding the right words. Slowly, he said, “Don suggested that we ask someone to front the cash.”

  “Like a loan?” That could work. But who did they know that had that kind of money lying around?

  “Uh, yeah. It would take some time to pay it all back, but it would be better to owe a sane person than someone who busts kneecaps for a living.” Jami’s attempt at infusing humor into the situation wasn’t helping.

  “I agree. So, who is this person? Do I know them?” Again with the silence. It was driving her nuts. “Jami, are you still there?”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m here.” He paused. Alyson’s brows drew together as she waited. A dozen thoughts and concerns over who it might be raced through her head. Finally, he said, “How much cash do you have in the bank?”

  It took a moment, but his meaning slowly settled in. Lying back down, Alyson dragged in a fortifyin
g breath. “I don’t know. Around three thousand, I guess. It’s yours,” she said quickly. He didn’t even have to ask. She would give him every penny to her name if it meant keeping him as far away from danger as possible.

  “Can you get more?”

  She thought about it. She had a credit card that she kept for emergencies—and this seemed like a pretty big one—but that was it. The best she could do was to get an advance, but it meant she was going to owe a lot of money, and without a job and a soon-to-be empty savings account, she was beyond screwed. None of that mattered though. What was money worth if the person she loved was dead? “Maybe another thousand. At best, two.”

  The silence told her that Jami was thinking, working it all out in his head. “That leaves us with seven to eight left to come up with. Is Liv around? Do you think she’d be willing to help us out?”

  Alyson bit her lip, casting a weary look at the shadowed hallway behind her. Olivia was a good friend, and she cared about Spencer—once. Would she help, if she knew what it was for? “Can’t hurt to ask her,” she told him. “But she’s sleeping.”

  “I need you to wake her up,” Jami stated.

  She could hear the stress leaking into his voice, and she understood where it was coming from, and she wanted to reach through the phone and wrap her arms around him, but she was drawing a line. She would ask her friend, but she was going to give her this last night to sleep worry free. Something Alyson was certain she wouldn’t be doing until this was all over. “I’ll talk to her in the morning,” she told him, making her voice firm. Resolute.

  “I need to speak with her now. The sooner, the better.”

  “Jami, there’s nothing that any of us can accomplish at this hour. I’m not waking her up.” Alyson held her breath, expecting Jami to push back. To her surprise, he didn’t.

  “Yeah, you’re right. That makes sense,” Jami said solemnly.

  Alyson’s heart hurt for him. “I wish you were home.”

  “Me, too, babe. Me, too.” Sucking in a lungful of air, Jami breathed out in one big rush, releasing his troubled thoughts for the time being. “So, how’s it going there? Are you and Liv having fun? Staying out of trouble?”

  Alyson forced away her melancholy and reviewed the past two days in her head. “Olivia shot me today.”

  “She what?” Jami’s voice was a mix of shock, disbelief, and a touch of outrage. “What the hell is she shooting my woman for?”

  “Relax, big guy,” Alyson soothed. “It was with a paintball. Well, a few dozen paintballs, actually.” Her lips pursed. She hated losing.

  “You went paintballing?” Jami’s soft chuckle teased a smile from her.

  “Is it really so impossible?”

  “Nope, not at all. I just didn’t realize you two did anything other than painting each other’s nails and watching bad eighties flicks. It’s kind of hot.”

  “They’re not bad. They’re classic,” Alyson defended, still hung up on his remark over her movie preferences. “And yes, we do a lot of things you don’t know about.”

  “Like what, exactly?” Jami asked. His tone dropped to a curious growl.

  Alyson twirled a lock of hair around her finger and grinned into the night darkened room. “Just… stuff.” There was no stuff. They were as boring as Jami had described—normally—but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Like stuff that involves short skirts and sick fucks who can’t keep their eyes off my girlfriend?”

  The grizzly bear was beginning to show, and Alyson knew she shouldn’t poke him, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Maaaaaaybe.”

  “Ally,” Jami said in a gruff warning. “You know how I feel about other men looking at what’s mine.”

  Alyson rolled her eyes. As unappealing as she always thought it would be for a guy to behave like an animal, there was something a little sweet and a lot sexy when Jami got all territorial over her. And when he said that she belonged to him, her insides got all gooey. He was the only man in the world she would ever want to belong to... “You’re such a caveman,” she chuckled.

  Jami made a grunting sound, playing the part. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

  THIRTEEN

  Two days passed and Alyson couldn’t stop thinking about Jami. He was on a plane right now, flying home. To her. She was counting down the minutes until his arrival. She’d slept later in hopes of killing some time. However, waking up early was a habit she’d developed along with work, which meant she still had the entire day to get through.

  Cleaning was an act of desperation. Olivia was a clean freak compared to her, but Alyson busted out the cleaning supplies and scrubbed every inch of her place until it gleamed. It was early afternoon when she finished, so after a quick phone call, she jumped on a bus.

  She hadn’t seen Tori or Miles since they moved out. It had been a few weeks, but when she arrived at their new place, she could see they were doing well. After a lot of prodding and encouragement, Alyson had talked Tori into opening a line of communication with her family again. So far, her brother was the only one willing to talk to her, and when he heard that she had left her husband, he jumped in with both feet. He and his wife opened their door and their lives to her and Miles, and they went. Despite occasionally feeling a little lonely in their absence, Alyson was happy for them. They were reclaiming their lives, and from what she could tell as she stepped into the quaint little bungalow, they were thriving.

  “The whole basement is finished,” Tori told her proudly as she escorted her into the kitchen to pour some drinks. “Beth has been really understanding about everything. At first, with their being newlyweds, and all, I thought she would resent our being here, but she’s really made us feel welcome here, almost like this is our home, too.”

  “It is your home,” Alyson told her, looking at her through soft eyes. It wasn’t uncommon for women in Tori’s situation, lacking the anchor they thought they had gained when they got married, to feel lost and alone in the world.

  Slicing a lemon into wedges, the corner of Tori’s mouth tilted up. Dropping a wedge into a tall glass of water, she slid it across the counter to Alyson. “Yes, but it’s not mine.”

  “No,” Alyson agreed, “but you’ll get there. You’re already well on your way.”

  Tori sipped her water, her expression thoughtful. “Sometimes I have these doubts. Like, what if I can’t do this? What if I fail?”

  Alyson shook her head, her soft mahogany locks falling over her shoulder. She brushed them back. “You won’t,” she said with confidence.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because of Miles. I can see it in your eyes. You would do anything for that boy. He is what will keep you moving, even when you think you can’t. He is your driving force. Every time you doubt yourself, all you have to do is take a look at him, and you’ll remember why you’re doing all of this in the first place.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Alyson watched her as Tori stared into her glass, twisting it between her palms. “Sometimes I find myself missing Tony,” she confessed. Alyson bristled, warning bells going off in her head.

  “Has he tried to contact you?”

  Tori didn’t answer her right away, telling Alyson that he had. Angry words of protest touched the tip of her tongue, but she held them back. Tori needed a friend, not a critic. She needed an ear and a shoulder. “A couple times at the courthouse,” she admitted, sounding guilty. “He wasn’t mean or anything. He didn’t do anything, just wanted to talk.”

  Alyson felt her eyes grow into slits. “What did he say to you?”

  “He just asked about us, how we were doing, if we needed anything.” Pausing, she looked away, and Alyson’s stomach tightened. “I think he might ask us to come home.”

  Alyson latched onto that one word—home. It was more telling than anything she had said. Tori still thought about his home as her home. “Will you?”

  Tori’s face turned into a mask of indecision. “I haven’t dec
ided yet.”

  All this time and she hadn’t moved on at all. To say she was disappointed was an understatement, but she had seen this scenario play out too many times to claim surprise. But she was. She thought Tori was different. After everything she’d given her, the risks she’d taken, the repercussions… she expected more.

  When would she learn that expectations were the first step to letdown?

  People never lived up to them. She had learned long ago not to place her faith in anyone. With Jami, it was different. She didn’t even have a choice. The moment he reentered her life, the doors to her hopes and expectations were thrown wide open. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just to him, and she had left herself vulnerable. Now she was feeling the deep sting of regret all over again.

  “I know you don’t approve,” Tori said, cutting through her thoughts. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet.”

  She might not be able to say the words on her mind, but her deep sigh spoke loud and clear—she wasn’t happy about it. “You’re right, but it’s not my place to tell you how to live your life. That’s your decision to make, but do me a favor?” Tori looked at her expectantly, and Alyson could see the need to please her reflected in her dark eyes. Tori was naturally submissive. She looked for others’ approval and validation, which was likely why she ended up with someone like Anthony Michaels in the first place. “Include Miles in whatever decision you make. He should have a say in this.”

  Hopefully, Miles would be more resistant than Tori was proving to be. Maybe he would be her voice of reason.

  Tori was already bobbing her head up and down in agreement. “I know. I already planned to, but I don’t know how he would respond. He’s still holding so much anger toward his father.”