Chapter 35

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

QUINCY

A fter a nice breakfast with Arizona and Layton, Ripley leaves for a long walk with Kaya. Normally I would go with them, but I want some time alone with June. I told Ripley that I needed to do extra stretching for the game today.

June is in the gym working out, as she does every day. I decide it's time for me to do the same.

June St. James has always been a bit of a contradiction. She's an extremely attractive woman. Ripley very much resembles her…outwardly. Inwardly, June plays her cards close to her chest whereas Ripley doesn't. I've known June since I was ten, but I don't truly know her at all. You only see what she wants you to see.

Teenage boys and every grown man in our hometown used to froth at the mouth for her. Hell, she probably went out with every one of the single men at some point.

She was a teacher at the high school. My friends fawning over her was a daily occurrence. I wasn't in high school at the same time as Ripley, but I can't imagine it was easy for her.

June slept around, never caring about her reputation or whether it impacted her daughter. She was, however, always there for Ripley, coaching every single team Arizona and Ripley played on until they left for college. She spent countless hours with them, helping to make them into the all-American players they both became.

I walk in and see her. She's in tiny spandex shorts and a sports bra, her standard workout uniform. Her straight, red hair is pulled into a ponytail. She looks up when she hears me walk in. "You didn't go for a walk with them?"

I shake my head. "Not today. I need to get in a little workout and stretch a few tight muscles."

We move about in comfortable silence for a bit until I break it. "Can I be blunt with you, June?"

She smiles. "If you're going to ask for her hand in marriage, you're a little late for that."

I let out a laugh. "No, not that. Though she'll marry me again one day."

She gives me one small nod. "I know."

"What makes you so sure?"

"She's always been in love with you. Even as a little girl, you walked on water to her. I'm just happy to see you finally returning the sentiment. I didn't believe you ever would."

"I've always loved her. I just didn't think I could give her what she wanted. But I want to try."

"I'm happy to hear it. Ripley is my everything. I don't want her to struggle like I did." She places the free weights she's been using onto the ground and stands tall. "What is it you have to say to me, Quincy?"

"I want to know more about her father's family."

Her face falls. "What do you mean?"

"Something is off with the story she told me and those people that were here yesterday. Don't bullshit me, June. I refuse to let anyone hurt her."

She blows out a breath. "What has she told you?"

"That you had an affair with an affluent, older, married man. You loved him. He was prepared to leave his wife for you but died before Ripley was even born. His wife paid you off to go away, and you used that money to move to our neighborhood when you did."

She nods. "That's all true." She swallows. "His wife's family was more than just affluent. They were and still are one of the most powerful in Canada. We're talking about real, old-school money. She feared me upsetting the applecart. Because of her long reach, no one would employ me, no one would house me, and I couldn't even find a lawyer that would represent me to assert paternity against his estate. I didn't care about it for me, but I did for Ripley. She was owed that money. Lucas promised to always take care of her. At the time, I had a small amount of notoriety in Canada because of the Olympics. Before I was pregnant, I did a bit of modeling to make ends meet, but that well dried up when I fell pregnant. I'm pretty sure she also had a hand in the sudden ending of my offers. I eventually became desperate. I set my pride aside and began banging on her door until she finally offered me a fresh start to disappear."

Tears begin streaming from her eyes. "I know Ripley was entitled to more, way more, but I had no means to get it for her. I signed away my rights for a relatively small bite." She hangs her head. "I'm ashamed and feel like I failed her, but I was so desperate, Quincy. You have no idea what it's like to be unsure how you're going to feed your child."

She looks around at our luxurious surroundings. "I'm grateful to you that Kaya and Ripley will never know the same struggles I endured."

"I will always provide, but Ripley doesn't need me to provide. She's strong and capable of doing it on her own. You raised an incredible woman."

She hangs her head. "You're right, but trust me when I tell you that it's easier this way. It's not just the money, Quincy. It's you. She loves you to her core. Do you think I want her to be the brokenhearted town tramp that I was? Someone who has to numb themselves in random men to feel alive? When she came to live with me when she was pregnant, that's what I feared. She said she was ready to move on from you, but she, like me, would never be able to. Loving you is as natural as breathing to her. God help you if you hurt her again. I don't have many resources, but I'll use every single one to rain holy hell down on you."

I can't help but give a small smile, loving how much she loves Ripley. "I don't want to hurt her again. I'm trying to be a better man for both of them."

She nods. "I know you are."

"Tell me about the Canadian Bonnie and Clyde."

She shrugs. "I don't know much. I put that part of my life behind me when we moved. Their mother passed, and they claim to have just found out about Ripley. They said they needed to meet with her urgently, but I told them I wouldn't pressure Ripley. It had to be on her timeline. They called me every few days, mostly Colette, which I didn't relay to Ripley because I wanted it on her terms. I don't owe those two shit. Only my daughter concerns me. It was up to her if and when she wanted to meet them. She said she did, and I arranged it."

"I think their French fucking contract is bullshit."

"I agree. There's something off with it. They were all business. They're hiding something."

"I sent it to my lawyer this morning, but I think I'll do a little research of my own."

I walk out of the shower and into the locker room after our game. Layton still hangs around and is here tonight. He's standing there talking to Cheetah, Ezra, and Trey when I approach them.

"Have you guys ever seen the movie The Town ?"

They all nod. Who hasn't seen that movie? It's incredible.

"You know that scene when Ben Affleck's character tells Jeremy Renner's character something along the lines of, I need your help. You can't ever ask me any questions about it, but we're gonna fuck up some people . And then Jeremy Renner's response is simply, whose car are we taking, yours or mine?"

Cheetah lets out a laugh. "Hell yes. Best fucking scene ever."

I nod. "Agree. I need some of that energy from you guys tonight."

Layton, Ezra, and Trey all simply nod. Cheetah channels his best Boston accent, and mimics the movie line, "Whose car we takin'? Yours or mine? "

I've never in my life had a group of friends like this. I'm almost choked up with emotion over it, but I'm too focused on the task at hand to let it get the better of me.

It's just after midnight. I told Ripley I was having a beer with the team at Screwballs after our night game. She didn't question it because she doesn't have a deceitful bone in her body, so it wouldn't occur to her to think that I was lying, but I could tell she was disappointed. I would have preferred we spend the night together too, but this is important.

We all walk into the fancy hotel wearing nondescript baseball hats to partially cover our faces. We don't want to be recognized, though it's not easy. Everyone in Philly knows us. Five big guys walking into a hotel forces people to take notice, so we split up. I'm with Layton in one corner while Ezra and Trey are in another corner.

I couldn't get the room number when I called, but Cheetah has a way about him, so I sent him up to the desk in the lobby to charm it from the hotel clerk.

We're all in our respective spots, watching from afar as he approaches the desk. We can't hear them, but within a minute, it appears as though the younger woman is laughing and blushing. I turn to Layton, and he smiles. "Fucking Cheetah and his flirting."

I poke my head out a drop more to see if I can hear what he's saying when I bump into a scantily clad blonde woman. I grab her arm, so she doesn't fall over. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I didn't see you there. "

Her face lights up as she secures her footing. "Oh my god. You're Quincy Abbott. The pitcher."

Shit.

I nod. "I am. I'm sorry about bumping into you, but I'm actually in the middle of something right now."

She rubs her hand on my arm, ignoring my obvious attempt to get rid of her. "When you're finished, why don't we get a drink?" She licks her lips. "And maybe grab a room if you don't have one already."

I remove her skanky hand from my arm. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm not interested. Have a good night."

Her smile fades and her eyes narrow slightly before she finally walks away.

I turn back to Layton. He scrunches his face. "I think she's a streetwalker."

"Who uses that term for hookers?"

"Would you prefer a lady of the night?"

"No, call her what she is. A prostitute or hooker."

"What's the difference between the two?"

I shrug. "Probably about a hundred bucks."

He chuckles. "My grandmother used to call them trollops. I'll stick with that."

I can't help but roll my eyes and smile.

A few minutes later, Cheetah returns to us in the darker corner where we've hidden since the hooker incident. "They're in two different suites on the top floor. You can't just press an elevator button to get there. You need a secure pass to get up to that level."

I mumble, "Damn it. How are we going to get up there?"

Cheetah gives us one of his huge smiles and holds up a key card. "No woman can resist my charms. "

Layton shakes his head in disbelief. "What did you say to her?"

"I can't reveal every trick in my bag, but I did tell her that I'm like Domino's Pizza. If you don't come in thirty minutes, the next one is free."

I scrunch my face. "Ugh. I can't believe that shit works."

He holds up the key card again. "Every damn time."

Cheetah grabs my shirt, "Quick, hide behind that plant. Someone is coming."

The three of us quickly move behind a large potted plant. I poke my head out but don't see anyone. "Who's coming?"

Cheetah chuckles. "No one. I just wanted to see if you'd do it. This is like an episode of The A-Team . I loved that show when I was a kid. I feel like Hannibal." He was the leader and brains of the operation.

I shake my head. "If anyone is like Hannibal, it's me. You're like the quirky, funny, weird sidekick, Murdock."

Layton tilts his head to the side. "Does that make me Mr. T?" He was the actor who portrayed the brute muscle of the crew.

I shake my head. "No way. You're Faceman, the good-looking fucker who always uses his charms to help them."

Cheetah's chin drops. "We just used my fucking charms to get this key. I'm Faceman. Let Layton be the weird, quirky fucker. I don't want to be him. He never got laid."

Layton scrunches his face. "I want to be Mr. T. He was a badass. I need gold chains and a mohawk to complete the look. What was his character's name? I can't remember. "

Cheetah gasps in astonishment. "Only one of the greatest characters in TV history. B.A. Baracus."

Layton enthusiastically nods. "Oh right. I'm definitely him." He flexes his muscles. "He was jacked."

I sigh. "Can we cut this stupid conversation short and get back to the mission?"

Cheetah nods. "As long as we can agree that I'm Faceman. I want to be called that for the rest of the night."

I roll my eyes. "Fine, Faceman. Let's go."

I motion for Trey and Ezra to meet us at the elevator, and they do. The five of us ride up together. Cheetah explains to Trey and Ezra that they need to call him Faceman for the rest of the evening, which starts a whole fucking conversation about their characters in our fictitious A-Team. Why did I bring these morons?

Because they're my brothers and they came without even asking why.

We step off the elevator. Layton starts giving hand signals. None of us know what they mean. I growl, "Just talk. No one can hear us."

He shakes his head. "You're a terrible spy. What if the enemy is listening?"

"What enemy? You don't even know why we're here."

He twists his lips. "Hmm. True."

I point to Ezra and Trey. "You two stand watch by the elevators. We're going in."

Trey whines, "Why do you guys get to do the fun stuff? We want to come."

I respond, "You have a wife and kid at home. Stand watch and stay out of the line of fire."

Layton furrows his brow. "I have a wife too."

"Ugh. Don't remind me that you're married to my sister. I'm still in denial."

He smiles. "She's so hot. And so sexy. You know what she did to me the other day?"

Before I can grab him by the shirt, Cheetah stands between us. "Relax, Q. He's fucking with you. Layton, stop riling him up."

Layton chuckles. "But it's so fun."

Cheetah tries to contain his smile. "It is fun, but he doesn't need to know about your wife's sexy pink nipples."

My eyes widen. "What the fuck? Why do you know that?"

Cheetah winks.

Before I can kill both of them, we hear a noise at the end of the hallway. We all turn to see one of the doors opening. I warn everyone to stay still as a flannel-pants-clad Pierre walks out, and we all hold our breath as if it makes us invisible.

Worst. Spies. Ever.

He simply places a tray of food on the floor of the hallway and turns back into his room. We all breathe again when his door closes with a loud thud.

I breathe out, "Phew."

Trey asks, "Who's the ginger?"

"Don't worry about it."

Cheetah asks, "What do you call a sexy woman with a redheaded man?"

I shrug. "What?"

"A hostage."

I roll my eyes. "You realize I might have a redheaded son one day, right? "

"Whoops. As long as he looks like Ripley, I'm sure he'll be fine."

I motion with my hand, "Let's go, you moron."

We walk down the hallway and I knock on his door.

In Pierre's deep French accent, we hear, "Who is it?"

I respond in an unnecessarily high-pitched voice, "Room service."

He answers, "I left my tray in the hallway."

"I need you to sign for it, sir."

I can hear him scoff before he begins to open the door. As soon as he opens it a crack, I push my way through and grab him by the neck, pushing him against the nearest wall.

His eyes practically pop out of his head. He's a big guy, but I have a few inches and a lot of muscle on him.

I can faintly hear Cheetah and Layton freaking out about what I'm doing, but I zone them out.

I growl, "Don't fuck with me, Pierre. I want the truth. Do you understand?"

He vehemently nods.

"What's your angle? I know you don't give a shit about forming a relationship with Ripley."

He tries to speak but he can't because my hand is around his neck. I move it and pin him with my forearm across his chest.

He takes a few labored breaths. What a pussy.

I grit out, "Answer me."

"It's…it's Colette. It was all her idea." Like I said, what a pussy. "Ripley is entitled to much more than what we offered her. Our father left her significant money. My mother buried the paperwork. Colette wants her to sign away her rights."

I'm not surprised their "magnanimous" offer wasn't that. Based on what June told me about their wealth, I had a feeling it was something along these lines.

"How much is the estate worth?" I push his chest hard. "Don't bullshit me."

When he gives us the number, our eyeballs just about bulge out of our heads. I hate how this ends for Ripley. No matter what, she doesn't get the relationship with her brother and sister that she wants. She doesn't care about the money. It's the family she desires.

I'll be her fucking family now.

When I arrive home in the middle of the night, the house is quiet. I tiptoe upstairs and open the door to Ripley's room. The bed is empty.

Opening the door to my room, I see her asleep in my bed. My body fills with both happiness and relief. She's really come back to me.

I peel back the blankets to see her naked. I remove all my clothes, slide in behind her, and pull her close.

She stirs and then turns in my arms. Her eyes blink open.

I move her hair out of her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

She sleepily smiles as she snuggles her body as close as possible to mine. "I'm glad you did. Did you have fun with the guys?"

"I missed you. How was the princess?"

"She shit straight through her clothes and up her entire back. I swear it was more than she weighs. I don't know how something so little can produce so much."

I chuckle.

"I bathed her, and then she did it again."

"Hmm. Sorry I missed the fun. Did your mom help?"

"Apparently, she was meeting up with Dutton after the game, and I don't think she came home. I've never known her to see the same man multiple times. I think she really likes him. Maybe this is her second chance."

"Perhaps it is." I look down at her body. "I like you waiting naked for me in our bed." I nudge my hard-on into her stomach for added effect.

"I like you coming home to me."

I slip my cock between her uppermost thighs and through her slippery flesh. "Always so wet for me, Shortcake. Do you want me inside you?"

She bites her lower lip and nods.

I pull her top leg over me, circling her entrance with my tip. "Grab me and take what you need."

She reaches down and wraps her fingers around my cock. I love the feeling of her soft hands on me. She pumps it a few times before guiding it into her. As soon as I'm fully inside her, her eyes flutter and she breathes, "Quincy."

"I'm here. Forever."