Roughing the Kicker (Austin Troopers)

Chapter Thirteen

A s much as he questioned if it was a good idea to stay there, Rye didn’t want to leave Cutter’s condo. If ever there was a safe place, it was with Cutter. Going home to Kristen offered no such sanctuary. In fact, he dreaded everything about it.

He parked in the garage and hung his bike on the rack—how nice it was to finally be able to use it—before going inside. Rye tried to brace himself for the fight, even if he wanted with everything he had to avoid another fight.

What kind of life was this?

Not the one he wanted, for sure.

Yes, he loved being the envy of the universe, engaged to Kristen Summerton. Who wouldn’t want that? It was the perfect life.

Or merely a beautiful disaster.

He heard Kristen’s voice as soon as he entered the house. “Rye? You’re finally home? I was beginning to wonder.”

‘No, you didn’t care,’ he thought to himself.

“Yes, it’s me,” he said, as Kristen met him in the living room. “Sorry it’s been so long.” There he went, apologizing again. At what point did that ever get old?

“No problem,” she said. “Just kind of surprised, because you don’t usually ride very much anymore.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Rye acknowledged. “I met up with one of the guys from the team, thought, and we rode the trail down at Zilker and got some food afterward, then went to his place and watched some of the Houston game.” He tried to keep his tone casual. “Just enjoying my day off.”

“You’re sure?” Kristen asked. “Nothing else?”

“Nope.” She might be pathetic, but Rye was pretty good at pacifying her insecurities. At least he used to be. “Just a couple of guys watching the game,” he said. “Houston won. If you care.”

“I don’t.” Kristen closed the distance between them, placing a hand on his cheek. The one that sported a nice cut now, thanks to her. “I only care about you. I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said. “I don’t want to lose you. There’s no one else, right? Promise me there’s not another woman.”

“I can definitely promise you that,” Rye said, trying to not laugh, or even smile. No, there wasn’t another woman, and no way would Kristen ever suspect there might be a man.

“Okay, good. I know I don’t make things easy right now, but I’m going to do better,” she said. “I’m going to get better.”

It was the same tired words, over and over, and Rye couldn’t do it anymore. “For your sake, I hope so.” Rye pushed past her, making his way to the bedroom. “Me, I don’t much care anymore.” He pulled his dresser drawer open and began removing clothes. Just a few things. He wasn’t going far.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Kristen demanded, her face suddenly etched with concern. “Are you leaving? I thought you said there’s no one else.”

“There’s not, and I’m not leaving,” Rye said with a calmness he didn’t feel. “Not the house, anyway.” It was his house. If anyone left, it would be Kristen. He wasn’t ready to kick her out. He did, however, need a break. “I’m moving down the hall to one of the guest rooms, at least for a few days. It’ll give us both a chance to think.”

“Think?” Kristen repeated. “About what?”

“For you, whether you prefer the drugs, or our relationship, would probably be a good place to start,” Rye said, “because there’s no way you get both.” He grabbed a few shirts from the closet.

“As for me, even if you do choose the relationship, I’ll have to decide if that’s enough.” He went into the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush and his razor. “At the moment, I am honestly not sure.”

~&~

Cutter finished watching the game after Rye left but found it difficult to concentrate. There were too many thoughts racing through his head. There was the kiss. Rye’s revelation that he’d been turned on by a man’s touch before. And then there was the confirmation that his suspicions about Rye’s personal life had been correct. His relationship had become abusive. Yet still he stayed.

Was Rye’s public image that important to him that he was willing to put up with it, or was the cycle of abuse so difficult to break free of? As much as Cutter hated Rye’s fiancée for what she was doing to him, he found the second scenario more palatable. He wanted to believe that Rye wanted out of the situation he was in, even if he hadn’t found that way out yet.

He recalled his conversation with Rosie and wished he could talk with her further about this, wasn’t sure he could do that without breaking Rye’s trust, or if his boss would even be receptive to continuing the conversation.

He was still pondering that when his phone. Cutter hoped it might be Rye, but instead it was his sister. Of course. He was surprised it had taken her this long to call.

“Hey, Leti,” he greeted. “Are you guys done selling tacos?” He didn’t recall how long the food event at the park ran.

“Yes. Just finished up,” his sister said. “It was a great day.”

“I’m glad.”

“Are you alone, or is your stud kicker with you?”

I wish. “Alone,” Cutter said. “He had to leave.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you with him today.”

“Yeah, it was kind of spur of the moment,” he said, “but he called me, and it was good day for a ride.”

“He called you? That’s interesting.”

“He’s a nice guy. We’re friends.”

“Friends are good,” his sister said. “If that’s enough for you.”

Cutter stifled a sigh. He loved Leticia, but sometimes she was too perceptive. “For now, it has to be,” he said. “He liked the tacos.”

“Then there might be hope for him after all.” Leticia laughed. “I admit I found him very polite,” she said, “but I wish you would set your sights on someone a little more... attainable.”

That was the thing. Cutter had begun to think of Rye as potentially being attainable. He couldn’t say that to his sister, though.

He was relieved when his phone signaled another call, and the relief turned to excitement when he saw who it was. “I’ve got another call. I’ve got to go,” Cutter told Leticia, and ended their call before his sister could reply, quickly switching to the other one.

“Rye? Sorry it took me a minute to answer.”

“You’re fine,” the kicker said. “I’m just happy you did answer.”

“I’ll never not answer a call from you if I see it come in,” Cutter told him. “Anytime. Day or night.”

“That’s nice, but you probably shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Don’t assume I can’t keep them,” Cutter replied. “Is everything okay, Rye?” He asked. “At home, I mean.” He hoped there hadn’t been another fight with Kristen.

“Yes. It’s... fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” A pause came over the line. “I, um, moved out of the master bedroom when I got home,” Rye said. “I’m staying in one of the spare rooms. What happened earlier today, I know there can’t be a repeat of that, and that’s what I told Kristen. There have to be some changes, and until there are, I won’t be sharing a room with her.”

Until there were changes. Implying once there were, Rye intended to share a room, and a bed, with Kristen again. Cutter tried to block that thought from his head and instead focus on the positive. For now, at least, Rye wouldn’t be sleeping with Kristen. It was some solace, but not much.

“I’m glad, but you know you can stay with me, right?” As soon as it was out, Cutter regretted it. Slow down, Hernandez. Slow down. “I have two bedrooms in my condo.”

“And I have four in my house,” Rye countered. “Also, it’s my house. If anyone’s going anywhere, it’s going to be Kristen.”

Then kick her out. Cutter stopped himself just short of saying the words. He wasn’t going to push. “Right. I understand that,” he said. “Just... offering, if you need it.”

“Got it,” Rye replied. “Thanks for being cool. And I’m trying to figure this out, Cutter.”

He sounded sincere, and Cutter wanted to believe him. “I know that, Rye, and I appreciate the honesty. I’m trying to be patient.” He wasn’t sure he was succeeding, but he was trying.

“You’re a good friend,” Rye said. “Maybe better than I deserve.”

“I told you. I’ll always be your friend. And more if you want it.”

“Cutter...”

“Right. Sorry.” He needed to stop saying things like that.

“I’ve got to go. Early practice tomorrow.”

“Yep. Time to get ready for Tennessee,” Cutter said. “Thanks for calling.”

“I wanted you to know where things stand. I’ll see you later. ‘Night, Cutter.”

The call ended, and Cutter still stared at the phone in his hand, trying to make sense of a situation that appeared to have gotten more complicated.