Page 4 of Striker's Foul
“I went to Austin when Browser found her before we finalized the unit. I only meant to make sure she was safe and keep eyes on her for you, but then I became her friend. That’s all I’ve ever been,” he explains, but I’m beyond caring. He betrayed me.
“You should have told me where she was. I told you so many times I wanted just a moment to talk to her.” I shake off Grim and head for my bike.
“So you could fuck it up just like you did right there?” Julian shouts after me. “Dude, you scared her so bad, Jude pulled a gun on you. How long did it take you to figure out?”
I stop and turn to face him. “I knew she was my Amelia the second she looked at me.”
He shakes his head, a crease forming between his brows as confusion settles in his eyes.
“Never mind. You’re more obtuse than ever. When you figure everything out, come see me and I’ll explain.” He turns and heads for his SUV.
“No,” I bark, pushing past Grim.
As I reach for Julian, he moves. He’s a fast fucker for a guy his size, but I’ve got brute force and bulk on my side. He flips me over, and I hit the gravel hard, landing on my back. He just smiles down at me as he leans over.
“I told you you’d only get that one free hit. I’ve never looked at Lia in any way except as yours. She’s my friend. I’ve known her and Jude since he was a toddler. You’re welcome.” He climbs into the SUV.
Rolling over, I stand up. Aches and pains I’ve fought for years erupt all over my body. I can’t take this anymore. He knew she was mine. He knew where she was. And he obviously knows Jude’s father.
Climbing back onto my bike, I kick it into gear and take off in a spray of gravel, heading for the clubhouse. I need whiskey and time to figure this shit out.
An hour later, I’m sitting at a back corner table with half a bottle of whiskey I’ve been nursing. Commander said he always knew she was mine and that he’d met her when Jude was a toddler. I didn’t get a good look at the boy. His voice cracked, so he can’t be too young. From the shadows, I could tell he was tall. That was all.
Amelia, on the other hand, has changed, but not in a bad way. She’s curvier, sexy, and has grown into her body. She’s got abs most women would kill for after having a kid. Her tight ass and fuller knockers have me adjusting myself. She used to be an A cup and way too skinny. I remember meeting her at the Fourth of July fair in town.
Amelia was with her mother, a stunning woman for her age but sick. She was weak and walked with a cane. Amelia wouldn’tstray far from her side. She had been trying to shoot bottles with a pellet gun. She awkwardly held it as if she didn’t know top from bottom.
I can’t stop the memories as they flood my mind, the alcohol allowing them to rush to the surface.
“I can show you how.” My voice cracked as I watched the petite beauty struggle to hit the empty bottles.
When she looked directly at me with those wide, baby-blue eyes, I melted. She smiled shyly and blushed a beautiful shade of pink.
“I’m Luke.”
“Amelia.” Her voice was soft and sweet. “Daddy doesn’t let me use guns, but Papa said I need to learn before I can come stay at the ranch this fall. So I can shoot snakes. Mom”—she waved to the even smaller, beautiful woman standing nearby—“said I could learn here.”
I loved how she just rattled on in that sweet voice of hers. I didn’t want her to stop talking. Most of the other girls either avoided me because of who I was, or their voices were too screechy. Not this little angel’s. Her voice was soft and sweet.
I glanced at her mom. “No offense, but learning at a carny where the guns are rigged isn’t the best idea. Let me help.”
I took the gun from her hands. Our fingers brushed, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t flinch at someone’s touch. My parents had taught me that touch meant pain, so I avoided it as much as possible. Even on the field, I didn’t allow other players to get close, which was good in my position.
But this beauty could touch me all she wanted.
She gasped when our fingers touched, her eyes flaring wide. Her hand moved to her chest, and in that instant, I saw just how different we were.
I was in ratty tennis shoes that were falling apart, long basketball shorts I used for soccer, and a threadbare T-shirt.She was impeccable in a white sundress and brand-new brown cowboy boots with pearls on them. She was clean. Innocent. And I was not. I knew this because I couldn’t take my eyes off her erect little nipples behind the material of her dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra. I wanted to rip off my shirt to cover those so no one else saw them, but I also wanted to keep staring.
She made a soft sound, and I lifted my gaze from her breasts to meet her eyes.
I proceeded to tell her about all the parts of the gun. Then I helped her hold it properly. She was in my arms and tipped her head back to look up at me.
“I’m going to go get some food, Amelia. I’ll be back,” her mom said, then walked off, leaving us by ourselves.
“Okay,” Amelia said with a soft sigh.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her lips.
