I try to reorganize my thoughts because I came in here thinking one thing, and one thing only. I would look back on my life one day and remember the exact moment I started to fall for Veronica Woodley. It was when Janelle told me what Veronica had done to protect her.
And now, it’s solidified. That was the very beginning, but after what Veronica just did for me, taking care of me when she was the one assaulted today while protecting my sister, I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen all the way.
The only question now is, do I have the guts to continue on this path?
CHAPTER 21
Veronica
My stellar plan to give Riggs a blow job (which led to even more stellar sex) doesn’t seem to have done its job. He sits at my kitchen island while I pour us tea, this after we cleaned up and I donned a robe so as not to distract. He again looks as tense as he did when he walked in.
I walk up to the edge of the island opposite him and push his cup of tea across. I hold mine in my hands, blowing over the top as I watch him. Riggs stares down at his cup but doesn’t touch it.
“I must suck at blow jobs,” I announce.
His head pops up, eyes narrowed. “Why would you say that? You give a fantastic fucking blow job. If someone told me that I could sit around all day and let you give me blow jobs if I gave up my hockey career, I’d give up my hockey career.”
I snort, grinning over the edge of my cup at him. “You seem very out of sorts.”
Riggs pushes the cup of tea aside and folds his hands on the counter. “Let me ask you something.”
“Shoot,” I reply, taking a small sip and setting my mug on the granite.
“Things have changed between us the past two days, and I’m trying to figure out how and why, given my aversion to letting anything like this progress.”
“I can’t answer that for you,” I point out.
“Then tell me why it was that way for you.” His eyes search mine for some type of guidance. “You were as averse to a relationship as I was. What was your excuse?”
I lean over the counter, pressing my forearms down and lacing my fingers. “You know I had an awful marriage. My ex was controlling and abusive. I was horrified and ashamed of myself for even getting into that relationship, so when I was finally able to break free, I felt it was all my fault for my terrible lack of judgment. I wasn’t sure if all guys were untrustworthy, but I knew I definitely didn’t have the ability to figure that out because I never saw it in Jace until after we got married.”
Riggs nods, as if he understands, then his gaze drops to his cup again.
“Want to share with me the root of your dysfunction?” I ask, not really thinking he will. Things may have changed between us to cross over from just sex to sex with some inkling we like each other, and possibly more, but I’m not quite sure.
His eyes come to mine, and I worry over the flatness in them. “When I was fifteen, I stabbed my stepfather—Janelle’s dad—with a kitchen knife, and attempted murder charges were considered.”
There’s challenge on his face, as if daring me to freak out and run. There’s obviously more to the story than that, but I can see he’s trying to scare me away.
Not going to work. I’ve seen some of the worst men have to offer. “Knowing you, I’m sure Janelle’s dad had it coming.”
Riggs lets out a pent-up breath—maybe of relief—and nods. “After my parents divorced, my mom married a man named Bruce Adamik, and he became my stepfather. They had Janelle when I was eleven. Bruce was an abusive drunk, and not the type to merely slap us around. One night, he punched my mom so hard in the face, he broke her jaw. She fell to the floor unconscious. I knew he’d be turning on me next, but unfortunately, Janelle happened to come into the room. The yelling had woken her up.”
“Oh God,” I whisper in horror. “She had to have been, what… four years old?”
Riggs nods bitterly. “At any rate, Bruce yelled at her to leave, and she froze when she saw our mom on the floor. It infuriated Bruce that he didn’t scare her away, so he advanced on her. I stepped in the way and told him to have a go at me instead.”
Involuntarily, one of my hands moves to my heart, which is thudding hard at the suspense.
Riggs notices but doesn’t call me out. He continues his story. “I wasn’t as big as my stepdad, but I wasn’t small either at fifteen. It took some time for him to get the upper hand and I held my own for a while. But at some point, he got on top of me and had his hands around my throat. Janelle screamed at him to stop, and Bruce released his hold on me enough to lean over and backhand her.”
Tears prick at my eyes.
“Janelle pushed herself up, looked at me, and there was blood on her. And when I saw that, I went crazy. I was able to push him off, but he came right after me. I don’t even remember how it happened, but somehow I was at the kitchen drawer, so I pulled out a butcher knife. I spun and stuck it right into his stomach.”
“Good,” I snarl, hoping this story ends with the man dead. Harsh? Yes, but I’m livid listening to this story.
“I called 911. The police came. Mom and Bruce went to the hospital. I was arrested.”
I gasp. “But why?”
“Because he had a knife in his stomach,” Riggs says with a mirthless smile. “But mainly because they made some snap decisions right there. The next day, the district attorney talked to me, and after listening to the entire story, corroborated by my mother and Janelle, as well as the cuts and bruises I had to my face and head, they concluded I acted in self-defense.”
“Jesus, Riggs. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard. What happened to Bruce?”
Disgust suffuses his expression. “He survived and was charged with assault. He ended up doing six months in jail for it, and when he got out, my mom took him right back.”
“You’re kidding?” I can’t even fathom such a thing. “It’s like a betrayal to you and Janelle.”
Riggs nods. “It was the beginning of the end of my relationship with her. Janelle was still too young to understand what was going on. My mom and I split final ties when she let Bruce convince her to send me away to live with an uncle in Minnesota.”
“Wow,” I reply, because this story has more twists and turns than I ever imagined.
“Ended up being the best thing for me. I played in a really good youth league over the border in Pittsburgh, but up in Minnesota, I got to go to a specialized high school that catered to hockey. It took my play to another level and got me a scholarship to Wisconsin, and that got me drafted.”
“Something good came out of it,” I say thoughtfully. “But what about Janelle?”
“That was the shitty part… leaving her behind, but I was only a kid too. At any rate, not long after I left for Minnesota, Bruce found Jesus, and he went several years without drinking, but he was very strict with Janelle. Then he fell off the wagon and started drinking again, but he never hit her after that, only my mom because he knew he could get away with it. He died when he ran his car into a tree. He was drunk, no seat belt on. Janelle was fifteen, and I was playing in San Diego by then.”
Riggs goes on to tell me how over the next few years after Bruce died, their mom had a revolving door of men—until she met Shep Mergeron. She married him two weeks after meeting him, and it wasn’t but a few days after that when he put the moves on Janelle.