The Bully (Calamity Montana)
The Bully: Chapter 17

THE SCRIPT on the diary entry was harsh and thick, the words scratched into the paper rather than scribbled.

Yeah, I’d lied. And I’d do it again.

It had been five days since Nellie’s visit to the Winnebago, and as I had all summer, I’d spent those days rereading her diary. This particular entry was one I’d revisited often. Each time I read it, I wanted to shake her. To scream in her face that I’d lied for a good reason.

The book was open in front of me on the RV’s dining table, resting beside a glass of water. My hands were balled into fists as I scanned the entry about the day Dad had fired Darius. Her words took up three full pages.

A different man might have felt sorry for the hardship he’d caused. Not me.

Sure, I’d apologized to Darius, but not because I’d lied. My apology had been for the harm it had caused his family. The financial stress I’d put on a man’s shoulders.

Each time I replayed that day, I couldn’t see another option. Put in that situation again, at that age, a lie had been the only choice.

Though maybe I should have expected my father’s overreaction. He’d taken it upon himself to ruin Darius by calling a handful of friends, asking them to fire Darius. Word had spread like the plague and my lie had snowballed.

All I’d wanted was to get Nellie away from my house. Away from my puke of a father.

He’d picked me up from school that day. The entire drive home he’d bitched about having to chauffeur me around. Normally, it was Mom’s responsibility but she’d had a conflicting dentist appointment. He’d promised that the day I had my license, he’d get me a car so he’d never have to shuttle me again.

Fine by me. I’d wanted a car to have some independence. What teenager didn’t want freedom?

We’d just pulled into the driveway when he’d spotted Nellie mowing the lawn. He leered at her, long enough that I’d felt sick. Then he’d made a comment that had made my skin crawl. Something like she’s gonna be a hot one. I couldn’t remember his exact words.

He’d nudged his elbow to mine like I hadn’t noticed Nellie before. Like he’d be proud if his son scored a hot girlfriend. Like had she been twenty-four, not fourteen, he would have chased her himself.

What the actual fuck was wrong with him?

In a way, I’d overcompensated for his views on women. While he was in multiple relationships, I’d avoided them almost entirely. I’d preferred hookups through college and my early years in the league. And I’d always made sure the women knew the score. I’d double wrapped with the condoms. Once I’d been drafted, unless a woman could show me her ID that proved she was over twenty-one, I’d steered clear.

Then had come that night in Charlotte.

The only woman who’d stirred my blood since had been Nellie.

Then again, she’d stirred it for years. Even when I hadn’t been willing to admit that she was special.

That maybe I’d fallen for her.

That maybe I was in love with her.

Was that the reason I’d gone to extreme measures to keep her away? Getting Darius fired had definitely been severe.

After Dad’s nasty comment, we’d gone inside. He’d walked to the window to stare at Nellie again, and I’d lost my mind. I’d spewed a load of bullshit about Nellie stalking me and stealing things from my bedroom.

Dad had flown off the handle and stalked outside. Then I’d listened from an open window as he’d confronted Darius.

Darius had instantly defended Nellie. No question. He’d stood up for his daughter automatically. What would it have been like to have that type of man as a father?

The reason Dad had taken the matter so far was because Darius hadn’t backed down. He hadn’t bowed down and kissed the great Colter Stark’s ass.

I respected the hell out of Darius for that.

Because had Nellie’s and my positions been reversed, no way my dad would have gone to bat for me without a lengthy interrogation first.

No, I wasn’t sorry for my lies.

But I hadn’t forgiven myself for them either.

What had happened with Darius’s business? Had he found new clients? Or a new job? I hadn’t had the guts to ask Pierce. I sure as fuck hadn’t dared ask Nellie.

I thumbed to the next page, starting one more entry before I made myself some dinner.

“That’s mine.”

My eyes flew from the diary to the voice outside the Winnebago. These hot July afternoons meant I had to leave the windows and door open to keep the RV from becoming too warm and stuffy. I should have closed the goddamn door.

Nellie stood at the base of the stairs, her eyes glued to the journal on the table.

“I can explain.”

“Go to hell.” She stormed up the stairs as I slid from my seat. She reached for the book, but I picked it up before her fingertips could brush the leather cover. “That’s my diary. Why do you have that?”

“Because I took it.”

“So you can add thief to your résumé?” She grabbed for it again, but I yanked it away. “Give it back. Now.”

“No.”

“That’s private. Hand it over.”

I shook my head, turning sideways to keep her from getting the diary. “What happened to your dad? After that day when my dad confronted him and—”

“Fired him?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “What happened to his business?”

“There was no business. He gave it up. He decided that it wasn’t worth dealing with asshole customers like the Starks.” She sneered. “So he sold all of his equipment and went to work for a competitor. He finally had to quit a few years ago. It was too hard on his knees, doing work meant for younger men.”

“He’s retired?”

“He’s fifty-three, Cal.” She scoffed. “Retirement at that age requires money. No, he’s not retired. He works for a printing company in Arizona, operating one of their presses.”

I studied her face and the flush of her cheeks. “I’m sorry. About that day.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay, you’re right. I’m not sorry. I’d do it again.”

“Because you’re a liar.”

“No, because my father is a sick bastard. He stared at you, and I didn’t like the gleam in his eyes. I lied to protect you. I lied because you’re—”

Mine.

She’d always been mine.

“I’m what?” She planted her hands on her hips, waiting for me to finish my sentence. When I didn’t, she made another snatch for the diary but I wasn’t giving it up.

“Why did you sleep with me? In Charlotte?”

Nellie ignored the questions, swiping for the journal again. “Give that back.”

“Tell me.”

“Give me that diary.” She stepped closer, reaching for it as I shifted it from one hand to the other. Her fingertips brushed the spine so I raised it high, pressing it against the camper’s ceiling. “You asshole! Knock it off.”

“No.” I kept it high and out of her reach, even as she tried to jump for it. “Why did you come to my room in Charlotte?”

“That diary is none of your fucking business.” She leapt for it again, and when she didn’t even come close, she smacked me in the stomach. “Damn it, Cal.”

“Answer the question and I’ll give it back.” Maybe. “Why did you fuck me in Charlotte?”

“How could you steal that from me? It was never intended for you.” She stared up at me, and the hurt on her face almost made me cave. But I needed to know the truth about Charlotte.

“Nell.” I dropped my arm. “Please.”

She heard the desperation in my voice and didn’t reach for the diary. Her chest heaved. “Because you fucked me over. Because you fucked my family over. And I was so fucking tired of you always winning. I wanted to win. I wanted to show you I wasn’t that insecure girl anymore. And I figured if there was a time for revenge, it was that night.”

My team—I—had just lost the AFC Championship. Pierce had flown to Charlotte to watch the game. Nellie had tagged along too since she’d lived there once and wanted to visit for nostalgia’s sake. They’d used the tickets I’d gotten for Pierce, and when she’d showed up in my seats, she’d been wearing the other team’s jersey.

After the loss, the coaches and my teammates had flown home to Tennessee. But I’d requested an exception from policy to stay and spend time with Pierce. We’d been at the same hotel. Nellie had been too. I hadn’t been good company, so after Pierce and I’d had a room service dinner in my suite and a couple of drinks from the mini bar, he’d given me some space.

I’d been wallowing when a knock had come at the door.

Nellie had stood in the hallway, still wearing that fucking jersey.

“So you came to my room to gloat?” When she looked to her feet, I took her chin, tilting her face until our eyes locked.

“Yes,” she said. “I knew you were at a low point. And I wanted to be mean like you were mean.”

I’d opened the door and let her into the room, fully expecting her to rub salt on my gaping wounds. To revel in my failures. To remind me that the reason we’d lost the game was because I’d thrown an interception in the first quarter and the team hadn’t gained the momentum needed to recover from my fuckup.

“But . . . you weren’t mean.”

She swallowed hard. “Because you looked sad. You looked heartbroken. You looked like the boy who’d kissed me once. The one who’d put so much pressure on himself. The one who took responsibility for a loss that should have been shared with a team, not carried alone.”

My heart squeezed.

God, she was a good woman. So fucking good. Too damn good for me.

I’d kissed her that night. When she’d told me she was sorry for the loss, I’d been so surprised that I’d just . . . kissed her. Then she’d let me tear that jersey from her body.

We’d spent the night in a tangle of desperation, until the next morning when I’d woken up and she’d already been gone, back to her hotel room, and we’d pretended it had never happened.

“After we started fucking, were you with anyone?” It was the question I’d refused to let myself ask for four years.

“That’s none of your business.” She frowned. “It’s not like we’re in a committed relationship.”

“I haven’t,” I confessed. “Been with anyone.”

In four years, the only woman in my bed had been Nellie. Why would I need or want anyone else?

“W-what?” Her mouth parted. “Charlotte was four years ago.”

“Yeah. I’m aware.” I tossed the diary onto the table, framing her face with my hands before she could take it and disappear. Then I dropped my lips to hers, kissing the shock from her expression.

She molded to me, her hands sliding up my chest as she stood on her toes.

I banded an arm around her back and held her close, trapping her to me so she couldn’t escape. My other hand roamed up and down her spine, my fingers replaceing the silky strands of her hair. My tongue plundered her mouth, exploring every corner like I had that first time.

She held nothing back, her lips as desperate as my own.

I swept her off her feet and carried her down the hallway, dropping her on the mattress. A breeze carried through the bedroom, a caress on my skin as I yanked off my shirt.

Nellie must have come to the camper from work. Her green blouse was tucked into a black pencil skirt. Thank fuck that skirt had some stretch because I shoved it up her thighs, bunching it at her hips as she spread her legs.

My shorts were off in a flash, dropping beside her heels onto the floor. Then one quick tug and her panties were history.

I fisted my shaft, holding her gaze as I stood at the foot of the bed, naked and hard and desperate for this woman.

Her hair was spread on my pillow. Her eyes hooded and wanting.

“Have you? Been with anyone?” Say no. Please, say no.

“No,” she whispered.

“Thank fuck.” I dropped a knee to the bed, hovering at her entrance to drag the tip of my cock through her folds. “Are you on the pill?”

A single nod was all I needed before I thrust forward.

“Cal.” She gasped, her back arching as she stretched around me.

I groaned and dropped my forehead to hers. “God, you feel so good, sugar.”

For once, there was nothing between us but the sins of my past.

“Move.” She held on to my shoulders, a leg curling around my hip. “Hurry.”

I pulled out and slammed inside once more, studying her pretty face as ecstasy spread across her features. The blush of her cheeks and throat. The perfect o of her mouth. Her eyes squeezed shut as her inner walls fluttered.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating her sheer beauty.

I ran a fingertip across the bridge of her nose, rubbing away her makeup to see her freckles. My freckles.

Then I braced myself on an elbow and showed her the strength of my body, the control and the restraint. I worked her up, higher and higher, as her hands flowed like water over the muscles of my arms, chest and back.

Her nails dug into my shoulders as her breath hitched.

“Come, Nell.” I bent and took a nipple into my mouth, sucking so hard that she unraveled.

She came on a cry that echoed through the room and carried beyond the windows. She pulsed around my length, her orgasm triggering my own.

I poured myself into her body, marking her as mine, then collapsed beside her, my breaths ragged as we stared at the ceiling.

Birds chirped as they flew outside. The sound of traffic carried from beyond the motel. Nellie’s panting was as heavy as my own.

“Why do we always end up here?” she asked.

I propped up on an elbow, staring down into her emerald eyes. In bed, we were fire. We could block out the rest of the world. It was easier here.

“Why did you come here today?” I twirled my finger around a lock of her hair before tucking it behind her ear.

Neither of us answered the other’s questions. We simply let them hang in the air until I brushed my lips to hers.

The kiss was too tender. I realized my mistake as my lips moved lazily and my tongue swirled with hers. But I didn’t push to give it an edge. I didn’t quicken the pace or touch her anywhere else. I simply savored the woman who’d consumed my damn life.

And I crossed a line with that kiss.

When I broke away, there was genuine fear on her face. Like I’d shattered an unspoken rule. There’d been feelings beyond hate and resentment in that kiss. Shame on me.

“Be back.” I stood from the bed, giving her a minute as I strode to the cramped bathroom.

I heard her footsteps on the stairs before the water in the sink had turned hot.

“Damn,” I muttered.

No surprise, when I came out, she was gone.

And so was her diary.