The Quarterback's Baby: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Read online

  “I’m so sorry, I let this happen to you, I’m so sorry,” he whispered painfully into my hair, his wet tears puddling against my scalp. I turned my head toward the sounds of voices nearby. We were not alone anymore. Several people had entered the patio area, milling about, talking amongst themselves, speculating on what was going on outside in the patio while the party raged on inside the club.

  Giles saw that I was looking elsewhere; he turned to the people.

  “Get an ambulance, call 9-1-1,” he roared, shocked at the apparent indifference of these clueless bystanders. He waited until someone grabbed their phone, then he made an effort to pull my dress down as far as it could go to protect my privacy.

  He turned back, and instead of making the call, the guy appeared to be filming the incident.

  "You fucking bastard," Giles roared and grabbed the phone out of the guy’s hand and threw it over the fence out onto the road. Then he reached into his pocket and used his phone to call for help.

  The guy who'd just lost his phone borrowed his friend’s phone as he complained about Giles' actions. He appeared to be making a call. Great - I thought, call the cops ‘cause someone destroys your iPhone but take a video of the girl bleeding to death? Suddenly, I became aware of the fact that I was losing a lot of blood. I could feel blood pumping out of my arm, to the rhythm of the electronic beat on the other side of the wall. I felt dizzy. Giles was holding me, supporting me against him, but someone finally gave a shit and brought over a chair. Giles helped me into it, and we waited for the ambulance.

  But I was too tired to stay awake.

  "Giles," I said, trying to get his attention.

  "What, Cherise? What is it?" he asked, sounding concerned.

  "I love you,” I croaked weakly, trying to smile, but not quite managing it. And then my eyelids shuttered closed and I knew no more.

  The next thing I remember was laying on a stretcher in an ambulance, a thin sheet covering my body, my stepbrother Giles near the foot of the bed, and two medical techs hovering over me. I lifted my head to make sure my dress wasn’t riding up. I couldn’t see the yellow dress, just a white sheet. A white sheet covered in blood.

  Chapter 5

  The next time I awoke, I was all alone.

  I was in a hospital room.

  There were needles in my arms, and a huge pad bandaged to my shoulder. I felt woozy and sick. I wanted to throw up.

  I started to get up, but the alarms went off.

  A nurse rushed into the room.

  “I’m going to be sick,” I yelled.

  The nurse helped me out of the bed, to the bathroom and stood by until I emptied out my guts.

  She helped me back to bed and washed my face with a clean damp cloth. “What time is it?” I asked, groggily.

  “Three AM,” she replied.

  I went back to sleep, and when I woke, Giles was in the room. He looked like hell.

  “Cherise,” he said, a smile showing that he was happy to see me awake.

  “Giles,” I said, then the memory of what happened to me came back, and I felt the tears rushing up.

  “Cherise, I’m so sorry, I should never have let you go out with that guy. I was too late; I’m so sorry.”

  “Wait, a minute,” I said, despite the pain meds, I picked up where he was going with that. “Giles, he didn’t rape me, you did get there in time.”

  “But what about the panties, he took them off of you?”

  “Uh, no,” I said looking at him, my eyes downcast. I could feel the color flooding my face.

  “What are you saying?” Giles asked, leaning toward me, holding my hand tightly in his, those blue eyes piercing my soul.

  “He didn’t rape me, but he would have. You saved me, Giles,” I said sincerely. “You saved me! Thank you!”

  “But,” Giles said, scratching his head, “What happened to your panties?”

  “There were no panties,” I said calmly and deliberately.

  His eyebrows raised, and a smile tugged at his lips.

  “You little brat!” he said, then before anyone could come in and change his mind, he bent towards me and kissed me gently on the mouth. I opened for him, and his tongue tentatively probed the inside of my lips. Then he pulled back, a mere fraction, and whispered, “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years Cherise, but I think I’m in love with you.”

  I gasped in shock, but he took away that gasp, and we kissed hard for a long moment, and time stood still until one of the devices started to beep, no doubt the one that measured my heart rate.

  Giles got back in his seat quickly as a nurse came in.

  “You should go now,” the nurse said, picking up on the pheromones radiating between patient and visitor. “Visiting hours begin again at eight in the morning,” she informed us as she shooed Giles out of the room.

  Chapter 6

  The family had their go-away brunch for Giles without me, they just changed venues. It went from being held at my parents’ house to the hospital cafeteria. While they feasted on pot-roast and barley soup, or whatever, I was treated to multiple doctor visits, x-rays, blood tests, and terrible liquid food. A policewoman and man came to talk to me about the attack and asked if I wanted to press charges. “Hell, yeah!” I answered them.

  I would be happy to stand up in a court of law and admit to my slutty error, if it came out. I’d been drinking, yeah I was looking for sex, but I wasn’t looking to get raped and brutalized. That man needed to be locked up! He’d threatened to kill me.

  Giles spent as much time by my side as he could, and even Brandy showed up, totally freaked out. She'd been making out with some cute guy and didn’t know anything was wrong until she saw them carrying me out on a stretcher.

  She was so sorry.

  Everyone was so sorry.

  No one could see that I was anything but sorry.

  My heart was soaring with joy.

  Giles had told me that he loved me.

  At two o’clock, my father came in to tell me that he had to go to drive Giles to the airport and my heart sank.

  That’s right, today was the day.

  Of course, my little incident wouldn't change his plans to leave me, to go away to college.

  Giles didn’t come in after my dad.

  My cell phone was out of power in my purse, so I couldn’t even text him.

  That night, they released me from the hospital and I went home, depression and soreness setting in.

  Chapter 7

  Over the next few days, I spoke with Giles on the phone a few times. He was kind and concerned, asking how my injuries were healing. He kept the conversations short, never mentioning how we’d kissed, or bringing up the words he’d shared with me as I lay in the hospital bed. As the weeks passed he stopped calling altogether, and he stopped responding to my calls and texts. It was as if I didn’t exist for him. So I stopped trying. I wasn't going to be desperate. A few weeks later, it was finally time for me to start my college career. At the small university no one knew me, and people left me alone. I focused on my studies, spending more time in the library than at any venue where I could make new friends, or meet guys. I didn’t have a social life. I didn’t have a boyfriend. And I didn't want either. I didn’t do anything but study, work out and read.

  I didn’t see Giles again until the holidays. That Christmas was the most miserable Christmas I’d ever spent. Giles was there, but he might as well not have been. He was cold, distant, and preoccupied, and we barely spoke to each other. He was out with his friends most of the time and frequently gone overnight. And then he was gone, back on a plane to his school.

  After that experience, I didn’t want to go home. When I heard he was heading home for Spring Break, I stayed on campus. I would have stayed away all summer, but my housing arrangements weren’t year around. And besides, my dad missed me. I couldn’t just be away all summer. But still, I dreaded going home, and I dreaded seeing Giles, knowing that he despised me for being this type of person.

&nb
sp; My spirits lifted when Brandy called, asking me if I'd hang with her for the first two weeks of summer. Of course, I would. Anything to stall the uncomfortable times waiting for me back home.

  “I’ve got us a cabin in the mountains, for two weeks. You can come straight from school. You'll love it!”

  So I rented a car and filled the trunk with all the things I needed to clear out of the dorm and drove four hours to the mountain resort.

  Brandy had planned to meet me at the cabin, since we were coming from different places, and she gave me directions and told me she’d arrive first and pick up the keys. That was the plan.

  It was pitch dark by the time I found the cabin, but a strong light blazed from an upstairs window, and there was another rental car parked outside in the dirt. So, clearly Brandy had arrived. I couldn’t wait to get inside and rest my nerves with a hot-toddy by the fire. Driving unfamiliar windy roads in the dark always put me on edge.

  However, when I made it to the front door I was surprised to find it locked. I knocked several times, but no Brandy came to the door. “Brandy?” I yelled into the house through the heavy wooden door, rapping my knuckles so hard they hurt. But still, nothing.

  I suddenly felt a chill wash over me. Even though it was summer, a cool breeze had come up, swaying the branches of the pine trees overhead. I wanted to get inside.

  I put my overnight bag down on the porch and decided to check for a back door. Maybe find one that wasn’t locked. There were no lights on the outside of the house, save for a dim bulb masquerading as a porch light. As soon as I rounded the corner of the cabin, I entered a world of shadows and darkness. Bound and determined to investigate all doors and windows, I put out one hand to feel the side of the house, using it like a blind man uses a cane to find my way. I hoped to find a window to peek through, expecting to find Brandy passed out from too much early celebrating, her iPod headphones blocking the sound of my knocking. Maybe if I was banging on a window right next to where she dozed, she’d wake up and let me the fuck inside. She had to be there. Her car was outside!

  The path around the house was uneven and I stumbled a few times before I found the first window. Unfortunately, no light shone on the other side of the glass. I used the side of my fist to circle away a layer of dust and film, and leaned forward to peer inside. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me. It was as if someone had stepped on a twig and broke it. Then everything went still and silent, as if the thing or person that had made that noise had just frozen in their tracks, on purpose.

  The hair flew up on the back of my arms, and my body tensed. I stopped breathing and became completely still. Someone was behind me. I could feel it.

  Chapter 8

  My body tensed. Whoever, whatever, stood behind me was big and was standing still as death. I knew it wasn’t Brandy. I knew it was a man. Long tendrils of cold fear gripped at my stomach.

  Was there a psycho killer loose in the mountains?

  Was Brandy already his victim?

  Is that why she hadn’t come to the door?

  My heart raced, and my breathing quickened. My right hand curled into an open palmed fist as every muscle in my body tightened. I forced myself to control my breathing, channeling all my energy towards my next move. Fight or flight.

  Spin, then stamp hard on his instep, then knee him in the groin and follow through with a karate strike to the nose? My mind desperately tried to formulate a plan. Or was it groin first instep second, and throat instead of the nose? Darn it! I seriously regretted never taking a proper self-defense class. I tried to recall the scene from Miss Congeniality. I couldn't.

  Leaves rustled on the ground behind me, and I knew my attacker was making his move. It was now or never. I took a quick breath, then whirled around, planting myself into an athletic stance, my arms coiled ready to strike.

  “Ah, ya!” I yelled as I whipped out my right leg as my body spun again, attempting to deliver a debilitating kick-box to my opponent’s groin. But instead of the satisfying crunch of cross-trainers on balls, or the satisfying music of a bad-guy in agony, all I got was a cry of surprise coming out of my own mouth as my foot found air.

  And because my foot had expected to make contact with something, hitting nothing flung me forward, onto my hands and knees. The moment I got back on my feet, I felt a strong hand grip my arm from behind me. I couldn’t see my attacker. I tried to wiggle and jerk out of his powerful grasp, but his other hand locked onto my injured arm, and I let out a yelp of pain.

  My body reacted and without conscious thought from that point onward. I lifted my knee high, then with all the power I could muster, bashed my foot as hard as I could on whatever was at the bottom of his leg.

  My attacker let out a grunt of pain, and released his grip.

  His instep, I found it! Yes! Take that you serial killer!

  I jumped away from him and turned my body to face him, and geared up for another strike. This time, I thought as I focused on the middle center of the shadowy figure, I wouldn't miss his balls!

  “Ay ya!” I screamed again as my kick-boxing training swung into action.

  But the man side-stepped me and backed further out of my reach.

  “Stop! For God's sake,” the man’s voice said, a mixture of mirth and panic in his voice. “Stop trying to kill me, Cherise. It's me. It's Giles!”

  I peered into the darkness, my heart still pumping and adrenaline still coursing through my system. My would-be attacker’s dark figure did look less threatening. His hands were up over his head in an “I surrender” kind of way. And his body lilted a bit to one side, as if it was still recovering from the damage I’d done to his foot.

  “Giles?” I asked, maintaining my attack stance. I had no intention of backing down until I knew for sure; it could be a trick.

  “Yes, Cherise, damn it,” Giles said, sounding petulant.

  I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

  “Jesus, Giles, I thought you were a psycho killer,” I said as I lowered my hands and peered into the darkness, hoping to make out my stepbrother’s features. The voice sounded like him. “Why did you sneak up on me like that?”

  “I thought you were a burglar,” Giles said.

  “Well, I’m neither,” I said, suddenly tired of standing outside in the dark. “I knocked on the door, didn’t you hear me calling for Brandy? Wait a minute,” I said, as I suddenly realized something that should have occurred to me before. What the hell was Giles doing here?

  “Why are you here?” I asked him, as I turned to walk to the front door. I wanted to get inside. It had been a long trip and, with all the excitement of almost getting killed, I needed to sit down.

  “Uh, well, I guess we can talk about it inside,” Giles said, and ran ahead of me as I moved cautiously down the dark path by the side of the cabin. The porch light bounced off his broad shoulders, and his face looked serious in the light as he put his key in the lock.

  “Where’s Brandy?” I asked as I followed him into the cabin.

  “She’s not here,” he said cautiously.

  “Well, why not? When is she coming? And you didn’t answer my question, why are you here?”

  Giles turned toward me and stared at me with an intensity I’d never seen before. My breath caught in my throat as he took a step toward me, then stopped.

  “She’s not coming, Cherise.” He murmured and stepped closer, his voice strained with a deep undercurrent of longing. I licked my lips.

  “Oh?” I said, but there was a catch in my voice. “What do you mean?” I asked as a million possibilities ran through my mind, including the idea that my brother might be the serial killer, and Brandy was already dead. Not wanting to let on that I was hip to my crazy stepbrother’s deeds, I didn’t come right out and ask if she were dead. Instead, I stepped back ever so slowly and casually, turning away from him, going towards the door.

  “Cherise,” Giles said, his voice full of pleading and again that longing.

  I wondered if I coul
d accept him for what he was? Serial Killer or not?

  “Cherise, I’m trying to talk to you,” Giles said, his voice almost desperate.

  “First tell me what you did with Brandy!” I demanded, no longer afraid, but just pissed. I’d put up with his jokes ever since he’d come to live with me, and this time he'd gone too far.

  Giles laughed as he saw the anger in my face.

  “What are you talking about?” He asked, honestly confused. “Do you think I did something to Brandy?”

  “You said, she wasn’t coming, as if she couldn’t, as if you’d done something to her,” I insisted, defending my right to be upset.

  “I said she wasn’t coming because that’s how we planned this. She and I planned this. This was a setup, Cherise, so you and I could have some time alone!” He blurted out the scheme, shock on his face that I could even imagine he might be some kind of killer. “Now, I’m not so sure that was a good idea if you think so little of me.”

  To my surprise, Giles was on the move, gathering up some things into a small duffle bag and grabbing some car keys.

  “Wait,” I said, rushing over to him. “I’m sorry,” I said grabbing onto his arm. “You set this whole thing up so you could be alone with me?” I asked.

  Giles turned around and stared at me, eyes narrowed as if he’d never seen that side of me before. As if he couldn’t believe I could betray him like that. His lips were thin tight lines, his muscled forearms stiff and unyielding. I’d hurt him.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, looking into his eyes. “Forgive me,” I tried to say, but my voice cracked, and tears began to well in my eyes. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said, stepping toward him, stroking the skin between his wrist and where he’d rolled up the sleeves of his mountain man shirt.