I’ve never heard that tone from a man before. It goes beyond love. It’s a slew of feeling that I’m sure at the core is love, but I hear protectiveness, vulnerability, and joy, all of which tells me Riggs is brimming with emotion. I find it beautiful to hear a man so content with his life because of the two women who seem to rule it.
Baden told me a bit about Riggs’s history, although nothing that was a secret. Mostly stuff known by the entire team. He and his sister Janelle suffered various forms of abuse growing up, and Riggs had removed her from a toxic and potentially dangerous environment with their mother and her newest husband.
“What’s the situation with your mom?” Baden asks.
Riggs doesn’t hesitate to answer nor does he cut a look my way in the rearview mirror or over his shoulder. He must assume that Baden has told me about his background. Plus, I don’t think Baden would’ve asked if he thought Riggs wouldn’t want me to hear the answer.
I lean forward slightly, my interest piqued. Riggs made national sports news recently when his stepfather was arrested for assault and attempted kidnapping, and his mother was a cohort.
“Shep is still in the county jail. His bail is set at two hundred thousand, and there’s no way my mom can afford that.”
“Would she bail him out if she had the money?” Baden inquires.
Riggs laughs mirthlessly. “She only texts me five times a day asking for the bail money, to which I reply with a resounding no each time.”
“You should block her,” Baden grouses, clearly not liking the pressure that puts on his buddy.
Riggs nods grimly. “I would if I didn’t need to make sure I have some line of communication on the off chance something happens to Janelle. I need to be able to get in touch with her. But I’m pretty good at ignoring her, so it doesn’t bother me.”
“And what about Janelle?”
“She wants nothing to do with our mom. I’m staying out of it and letting her make her own choices. She might soften up down the road, but I think it probably depends on whether my mom stays with Shep. And by all accounts, that’s not going to change. I think my mom is truly willing to sacrifice her relationship with Janelle to stay with that douche. But if he gets convicted of the charges against him, that might change. She won’t wait for him if he goes to prison. She’ll be on the hunt for husband number four.”
I can’t even imagine what it’s like to have that type of family dynamic. My parents are salt-of-the-earth people who love me beyond measure. I’ve never even been so much as spanked by either of them. Their preferred method of punishment when I was growing up came in the form of taking away liberties and activities I enjoyed, which was plenty effective.
“How are you doing, Sophie? I imagine it might be a little disconcerting coming back to Phoenix.”
It takes me a moment to realize that Riggs is talking to me, even though he addressed me by name. I glance up and see he’s watching me through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road.
Just as Baden told me a lot about Riggs, I assume he’s filled Riggs in about me. Maybe he disclosed some of my fears, but it could be Riggs is just asking how I’m doing upon returning to the city where I was attacked.
I simultaneously realize that I don’t care if Baden told Riggs about my PTSD. I know he would never disclose anything personal to someone he didn’t feel was trustworthy enough to treat that information with dignity and respect.
I answer honestly. “Let’s just say it took a lot of work on Baden’s part to get me to agree to come.” I lean forward, patting Baden’s shoulder where he sits in front of me. “He is one persistent man.”
Riggs shifts slightly to smile back at me. “Tonight at The Sneaky Saguaro, you and I are going to share a beer, and I’m going to tell you about all the ways this guy persistently dogged me before he left for Pittsburgh. Utterly relentless.”
“A bully,” I suggest.
“A know-it-all,” Riggs drawls sarcastically.
“Doesn’t know how to stay out of your damn business,” I quip.
Riggs says dramatically, “Can solve all your problems.”
I giggle, and Baden shifts to look back at me, then to Riggs. “Are you two done?”
Yeah… we’re done. But I revel in how light I feel after that small exchange. It’s a great way to break the ice, and Riggs has proven that a good friend of Baden’s is probably going to be a good friend of mine.
This is confirmed when Riggs says, “Just remember, Sophie… a hockey player’s team is his family. Baden will always be a member the Vengeance. As his friend, that means you’re extended family. We have your back. You’re safe here in Phoenix.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and manage a hoarse “Thank you.”
♦
Riggs doesn’t come into Baden’s home, merely pulls our suitcases out of the back and hands them over. “Got to take care of a few things before heading to the arena,” he explains, but it’s an explanation not needed. The Titans and Vengeance play tonight, and he’s got to get ready.
So will Baden before too long, so we wave goodbye with promises to buy each other beers after the game.
Regardless of who wins, Baden wants to hang out with his Vengeance friends tonight as his decision to move to Pittsburgh was done so suddenly, he didn’t feel his goodbyes were given justice. Everyone plans to meet at the team hangout, The Sneaky Saguaro, and I’m excited to be a part of it. While I am sometimes a little starstruck by Baden—famous hockey player and now coach—it’s even more so being in Phoenix and hanging out with multiple famous hockey players. Never in my life did I think I’d have an opportunity like this, and it makes me more grateful that I let Baden harass me into coming along.
Baden’s home is in an eclectic neighborhood in Scottsdale that seems to shun the classic southwestern adobe-style homes that I’ve seen in my travels as a medical training rep. Rather, it’s a hodgepodge of architectural designs, and I immediately fall in love with the grand Tudor-style house done in red brick, gray stone, and black half-timbering. The steeply pitched, gabled slate roof and mixed use of building materials produce a stunning effect, probably more so because it’s situated in the heart of the southwest. Some might say it sticks out like a sore thumb, but I find it incredibly interesting, just like its owner.
“I love it.” I sigh as Baden leads me inside to a large foyer with polished brick floors.
“It felt like home, even though I wasn’t here for very long,” he replies, setting our suitcases down.
And then I spy the plant I brought him when he was in the hospital.
It sits on a stand to the left of the entry door in front of a beveled, decorative glass inlay. When I purchased the trailing pothos, it was in a small container with a few healthy vines starting to cascade over the edge. Now it sits in a ceramic pot at least five times bigger than the original, and the leafy vines pour over the sides and onto the floor where they puddle in a mass.
“That needs to sit higher,” I advise as I move closer to examine it.
Baden sighs. “Yeah… I know. I did a little reading up on it.”
“We can hang it in the corner of your bedroom,” I suggest, and Baden chuckles. I look at him with curiosity. “What’s so funny?”