Chapter Four

“How are you? How are you?” Jodie violently paced the floor in front of him. “He has some nerve.”

“Jodie, stop.” She wasn’t helping the situation. He glanced to his shut office door. Eric Fox, the love of his life. Fuck. What the hell was he doing here?

His office fell silent, and he realized Jodie was standing, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“You’re not actually thinking about this, right? He’s an ass and a dick and…”

“A celebrity,” CJ added calmly. “He’s a celebrity.”

Jodie stepped forward and leaned on the desk. “What?”

Maybe Eric was the light at the end of the tunnel. It could work. It really could.

“Oh no. No. You can’t seriously be considering this. He’s a drunk, screws anything with a pulse and he just… He’s not good for you.”

Though he appreciated his sister’s concern, his wellbeing wasn’t the issue. “But think about it. He could actually be good for this place. Get us some attention.”

Jodie gaped at him wide-eyed. “I think maybe you should go lie down because you are not making any sense. He’s messed up. How is anything good going to come out of this?”

“No such thing as bad publicity, right? Besides, do you believe everything you read in those gossip magazines?”

“About him, yes. He had a good thing in LA and he fucked it up. Just like he did when he left here and you.” Her knuckles whitened as she screwed her hands into tight fists. She shook her head, and he knew she was going to fight him all the way on this one. “He’s a freak.”

“And so am I,” CJ said, more harshly than he had intended.

Jodie lowered her head. Standing up straight, she glanced over her shoulder to where the dark figures of Eric and Marcus could be seen through the frosted glass pane in the door. “If he so much as looks at you funny, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“I know,” he said and gave her a warm smile. “But this is my place. And if he can help us, I’m going to at least tolerate the guy for a couple of weeks.”

There was a look on Jodie’s face and CJ wasn’t completely sure what it was—anger, hate, disappointment, sympathy?

“Jodes?”

Jodie closed her eyes as her shoulders dropped and she seemed to find a little peace with their current situation. “Okay. Whatever you want.” She opened her eyes and sighed. “Go talk to him.”

* * * *

His breathing was ragged, his hands were sweating and his mouth was drier than a camel’s ass. He was having a God-damn panic attack.

“You didn’t think to look into this place? You’re a dick. Do you know that? A fucking dick!” He hissed. Pacing and babbling at Marcus wasn’t going to achieve anything. Hell, it didn’t even make him feel any better. He was twitchy and couldn’t stand still. Of all the bastard projects to choose. He eyed the door to CJ’s office. What the hell were those two doing in there?

“I’m sorry, okay?” Marcus said in a low voice and moved in front of him, blocking his view of the door. “We can leave. Pick another.”

Like that hadn’t crossed his mind. He had his sneakers on and he was ready to make a sprint for the exit. But something was stopping him. Curiosity. Casey-Jay Williams. He was no longer the athletic, dark-haired teenager of seven years ago. He was a grown man. Fuck. A grown, gorgeous, tall and toned man.

Not now, you dick. These were not appropriate thoughts.

Like his fantasizing was actually going to make any difference—that ship had sailed years ago. Okay, so maybe it was more like he had taken a giant running leap off the ship, but he had been young and scared and all kinds of stupid.

“Eric?” Marcus was clearly concerned by the sudden phasing out and he gently rested his hand on his arm. “What do you want to do?”

He should have known. It was kids and sport and charity. CJ had always been an amazing athlete. He had even gotten a scholarship because of it. Eric had always been impressed at how CJ knew exactly what he wanted. He had loved track events, trained hard and dreamt of sharing his passion. But CJ’s dreams had crashed and burned out on the highway, literally. The memory of gas and burned metal stung at the back of Eric’s throat. Bile was on his tongue and he ran. He was going to vomit.

There was a gentle knock on the stall, and Eric was surprised to hear CJ’s voice from the other side of the door.

“Are you okay?” CJ sounded concerned.

Eric didn’t say anything straight away. Instead, he sat on the washroom floor and stared at CJ’s shadow under the locked door. CJ wanted to know if he was okay? He hadn’t been okay in a long time.

“Eric?”

Getting to his feet, Eric flushed the toilet and wiped roughly at his face. The taste of the tuna salad he’d had for brunch lingered across his tongue.

You can do this.

Exiting the stall, he briefly met CJ’s eyes as he crossed to the sink and washed his hands. He could feel CJ watching him and he tried to remember the color of his eyes.

“Eric, I…” It was clear neither of them knew what to say.

Turning off the water, Eric turned around and rested against the metal trough. He looked CJ up and down. The man looked good. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” Eric said.

CJ folded his arms across his chest. He was clearly uncomfortable with the situation they found themselves in. “And if you had?”

If he had, he would have run in the opposite direction. “I don’t know,” Eric said, accompanied with a humorless laugh. “It was my agent’s idea. He figured getting involved with some voluntary work would…make me look less of a jerk,” he added honestly, though CJ didn’t seem to appreciate the gesture.

“You’re telling me you had no idea?”

“Honestly. My PA, Marcus, the guy outside, he printed this list and I just… I thought…” Fuck. This was a mess.

“You thought what?”

Redemption.

The West Grove Sports for Kids Project was the fourth one down on the first page of the printed list. The description was brief—encouraging and enabling kids of all ages to take part in sport, from track to soccer, from the fun of a sack race to serious competitions. If anyone asked, Eric was ready to claim how he needed to stay busy and active. What better way to stay busy than burying himself in entertaining a bunch of school kids on Spring Break? Obviously, that wasn’t quite the whole story. He’d just figured where he had failed CJ, maybe he could help another teenager realize his dream and sporting potential.

CJ tensed his jaw, clearly frustrated. “This isn’t a game, Eric. I need to know if I can count on you.”

“Of course,” Eric said quickly. “I just want a chance.” There was doubt and concern in CJ’s hazel eyes. He obviously wondered if he could trust Eric. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

“You really want to do this?”

“Yes.” He did. Or at least he wanted to believe he did. His knees felt weak and he felt like he was going to vomit again, but he was pretty sure he wanted to give it a go at the center.

“You screw this up—”

“I won’t.”

CJ was clearly hesitant to accept Eric’s offer of help. “You turn up on time and you do exactly what I or my staff says. You get involved in everything.”

“Of course,” Eric agreed. He needed to get involved. His body and his mind needed to be kept occupied if he had any chance of not going completely insane. But could he handle being near this guy every day for the next two weeks?

“I don’t know what exactly happened in LA, and I don’t care. Those are your issues. But you don’t bring them here. So, no drink, no drugs, no screwing my staff and no cursing in front of the children, regardless of what comes out of their mouths. You are professional and you pretend you’re having fun and enjoying spending time with these kids even if you hate every single moment.”

Eric could think of nothing to do other than simply nod. Wow, CJ had certainly laid it all out there for him.

“Okay. I suggest you go home and prepare yourself for a day’s work tomorrow. I need to run it by the parents and speak to Ned about running a check.”

“Ned?” Eric laughed. “He still down at the station?”

CJ nodded. “Yeah, he’s due to retire next year. He still has the mustache and smells like cabbage. Remember?”

“Homemade soup,” they said together and laughed, and suddenly the atmosphere between them seemed a lot lighter.

“Is there anything I should know before I have him run a check on you? It’s kids, after all.”

Eric understood. “No. No record. No debt. No anything.” Sure, he felt like a criminal half the time and he’d dabbled in drugs. But nothing he’d ever been caught or brought up on charges for. Hell, not even a speeding ticket.

“Okay.” CJ made his decision. “Be here at eight. Bring a change of clothes.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and I suggest you do your best to avoid Jodie. She’s still pissed at you.”

“And you’re not?” CJ had every right to be mad. Eric had been prepared for shouting, screaming, hitting and kicking. But CJ was unnervingly calm.

For a moment, CJ seemed to think about the question. “It’s been seven years. Getting mad at you isn’t going to change a damn thing, is it?”

Guilt hit Eric hard in the chest, and all he wanted to do was to crawl on hand and knee and beg for CJ to say the words he needed to hear. Could CJ ever forgive him?

“It was an accident and we have to live with that.”

“CJ—”

CJ raised a hand, stopping Eric from saying anything more. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. The car, the rain, the dumb animal in the road—it was all an accident. But what happened after, that was all you. And you have to live with what you did. I’ve had to, so do you.” He met Eric’s eyes. It was as if he wanted to say more, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. “Tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, he left the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, Eric closed his eyes and gently rubbed the top of his stomach. Was he strong enough? He swallowed and dared to imagine the taste of whiskey. Was he now allowed to give up with this hopeless attempt to change? He’d tried. He really had. But everything was too hard, and now CJ was in his life, complicating his already twisted world. There was a knock on the door and Eric opened his eyes to find Marcus hovering in the entrance.

“I wanted to check if you were okay.” He looked worried as fuck and equally pale. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think. I mean, what were the chances, right?” He laughed nervously as he rubbed his palms together.

What were the chances? If asked an hour ago, he’d have said unlikely. As it was, he was about to embark on a venture with his ex. Not exactly how he had imagined his day going. It was his own fault. A project situated in a small town, all about sport and giving back to the community—he should have seen it coming.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Marcus asked. “There’s no shame in changing your mind. You’re at the start of something and I don’t want to see you fail.” God love Marcus and his to-the-point attitude.

Thank you. “I’ll be fine. Was just a bit of a shock.” He seemed to appease Marcus a little.

“Okay. But don’t do anything stupid. If you aren’t coping tell me.”

Eric flashed his most convincing smile. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You’ll see.”

* * * *

“You’re serious? You went and offered him a job?” Jodie dropped down on the leather couch in the corner of the office. She shook her head. “I just figured you’d see sense once you spoke to him. I don’t get it.”

What was there to get? He had made a decision based on what was best for the club. Nothing more, nothing less.

“How could you?”

“What?”

“After what he did.”

CJ ran a hand back through his dark bangs, quickly combing them forward again as he felt the raised edge of the scar on his forehead. “He didn’t do anything to you so you can drop the injured party act.”

Jodie pouted and folded her arms. CJ had seen this a hundred times before—the hissy-fit of Jodie Williams. It was a marvel to behold, and it always amazed him how well it worked on every other person but him. Even their folks gave in to her demands. Anything to end the over-dramatized tantrum.

“Don’t even bother,” he said. It was a little after one and he already felt like he’d done a full day. As it was, there were still six hours to fill.

Bouncing her leg on the spot, Jodie let out a series of huffs. “I just don’t know how you can even bear to be in the same room as him. My skin’s crawling just thinking about it.” He wasn’t about to tell her he had felt exactly the same at first. But seeing Eric was nothing like he had imagined. It seemed Eric had built himself up and had gone onto just as successfully knocked himself down. He was obviously a haunted man and CJ didn’t want any part in knocking him down any farther. That wasn’t the kind of person he was. If anything, he’d get sucked into trying to fix the hurting man.

Broken things needed fixing. He knew that more than most. Seven years ago, he was nothing more than a broken man in body and soul. People kept telling him everything was going to be okay. But how could it be? He had lost a month of his life—slept it away in a hospital bed. When he had woken up from his coma, all he could think about was Eric. Was Eric okay? But Eric hadn’t been there. And one more thing had gotten broken that day—his heart.

“Mom isn’t going to like it,” Jodie said in a low and threatening voice.

“Mom isn’t going to find out.” He gave her a firm look. “It’s none of her or Dad’s business.”

The muscles in Jodie’s neck and jaw tensed as she ground her teeth together. He wasn’t going to make her promise not to tell. He just hoped she respected him enough to abide by his wishes.

“I still think you’re wrong in the head for doing this. You owe him nothing.”

“No, but maybe he thinks he owes me. Two weeks, Jodes. Then we don’t have to see him ever again.”

She gave a short nod. “Two weeks. But he better not fuck it up, or I’ll fuck him up.”

CJ tried his best to keep a straight face, but instead, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Fuck him up?” Was she serious? He grinned as Jodie broke into a fit of laughter. He loved his big sister. “So,” he started and lifted the file of receipts, invoices and other paperwork off the desk. “What the fuck are we going to do about these?”