Bringing Delaney Home (Cates Brothers #1) (12 page)

“Losing weight. Isn’t that why most women come to a gym?” Her eyes never left the shards of glass.

Her familiar feisty attitude helped him find temporary footing. “Cute. Do I get to join in with making the gimp jokes, too?”

She turned her head, focusing dazed eyes up at him. “Only if you’re in the club. Is this where you pull off your prosthetic arm and say, ‘I’ve been through this, so you can too’? I think that was last week’s movie of the week.”

“No.” Quinn shook his head. “This is real life. Welcome back.”

“Oh, bite me.”

At a rare loss for words, Quinn walked over to retrieve Delaney’s prosthesis. He shook the sparkling shards of glass from it before handing it back to her. “So, this is a surprise. And a lot of things make sense now.”

“Huh, that’s funny, because things make even less sense to me now than they did nine months ago.” She finished strapping on her limb, stood up, and walked over to pick up her sweatpants, ignoring him the whole time.

Quinn picked up her gym bag and water bottle, holding them out to her. He wasn’t sure why, but he held on to her bag after she grabbed it, waiting until she looked up at him, desperately needing some connection. “Hey, no more living in denial. That’s a step forward, right?”

“Just because I didn’t tell people doesn’t mean I was in denial. I know exactly what I’m dealing with. Unlike you, I don’t have a choice.”

Her voice hit him, cold and hard, and he felt as if he might crack under the weight of his guilt. Her gaze challenged him, pinning him to his spot. Dared him to deal with it too. Feeling blindsided, he darted his gaze away before she could read his unease. He wasn’t quick enough, and he knew the moment she saw it. Her body stilled, stiffened, and pulled back.

“I am obviously failing the test here.” Panic and instinct had him stepping into her space again. “But cut me some damn slack. I’ve had all of five minutes to absorb this, and I’m having a little trouble.”

“There’s no test. I didn’t ask you to deal with anything.” She threw her shoulders back and looked fiercely up into his face. “Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d get out of my personal bubble.”

“Before you do anything crazy, look over my shoulder at your sister’s face.” Quinn moved a few inches to the side to make it easier for her to look. “You see that pale, worried look? She did not look that way a year ago. She was also about five pounds heavier. You need to at least try, for Greer’s sake.”

Guilt and pain flashed across Delaney’s face in such starkness that Quinn felt like a rat bastard for the low blow. But ever since he’d watched Delaney’s prosthesis fly through the air, he’d felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff with the earth crumbling out from under him.

“For Greer’s sake.” Her voice barely escaped from between her stiff lips.

“Hell, that didn’t come out right. No, not just for Greer’s sake. For both of you.”

“No, you’re right. I’m going to have to try again, aren’t I? For Greer. I mean really try.” She sucked in a breath and swiped at a rogue tear tracking down her cheek. “I couldn’t do it last time I tried.”

For whatever reason, Delaney had finally stripped down to the truth. And it scared the hell out of him. “It’s not you against the world anymore, Laney.”

“The last time I asked for help, it didn’t end well. Did it?” Delaney’s hands clenched and she yanked her gym bag out of his hand. This time, he let go without a fight.

Quinn couldn’t get any words out. His throat was tight and his mouth dry. In his mind, he saw Delaney’s prosthesis fly through the air in an endless repetitive loop. He was torn between needing to throw up and wanting to punch something.

“Don’t you dare feel guilty. I’m not your problem.”

Instinct had him stepping close to her, wanting to deny it. Honesty had him staying silent as he looked down, thinking how damn unfair it was that this had happened to her, of all people, after the crappy childhood she’d had. In an instant, he realized he’d made another mistake.

Delaney punched him in the stomach without warning. “Don’t pity me either.” She limped toward the exit, storming out with the front door, which clanged angrily behind her.

Quinn bent over with his hands on his knees, recovering his breath from her sucker punch. He totally deserved it. Hell, he couldn’t have fumbled that any worse. Unlike Delaney, though, he had no trouble asking for help. And he knew who to turn to.

Chapter Eleven

D
elaney’s tires squealed out of the gym parking lot as she tried to control the scream she felt rising up. She took a deep breath and eased up on the gas pedal before she got another ticket. She needed to be alone and, just like it had been in high school, this town was too small for that. Her hands steered her Jeep across a familiar route until a few minutes later she was seeking refuge where she often had in high school: the Climax High School track. Only this time she took a seat in the first row of the bleachers, desperately trying to ignore the pull of the track and the memories of the years she’d spent losing herself on that oval.

Most people who had seen her run in high school would swear she ran as a fierce competitor who hated to lose. The truth was she’d run because in every race came a moment when she slipped free. When the pressure of her father’s hatred and animosity, of taking care of Greer, of living with the whispers behind her back started crowding in on her, she came here and ran and ran and ran. Escape was her goal and reward, not the medal.

Being fast had helped her pay for college though. Over the years, picking up gigs as a part-time track coach had allowed her to send a little extra money home to Greer. She shook her head to clear the memories. They were just another thing that caused pain now, stirring up regrets and what ifs. What had Quinn said?
Welcome to real life
. This was her new reality, and you know what? Reality sucked. So much for keeping her secret and slipping out of town. Damn her temper. Her thoughts whirled around like the outer bands of a hurricane, but in the calm center one thing stood very clear in her mind. The look of shock and pity on Quinn’s face was branded there.

The look on his face cut deep. It was her own damn fault. She’d started to fall for Quinn’s sweet talk and sexy tricks, even though he’d let her down before. Just like in high school, he wasn’t available when she needed him the most. For the first time in months, she waded through the ugly truths she’d been hiding. She let go and allowed herself to be sucked into the turmoil of her life. All the pain, anger, confusion, and reality converged in the pit of her stomach, where it rose up, boiling over and out in one loud, gut-wrenching scream.

“Damn, you sound pissed off, lady.”

Delaney slapped her hands over her mouth and spun around, looking up in the bleachers to where the voice had come from. Sure enough, five rows up, over in the shadows of the side wall, sat a teenager.

“I’m sorry you had to listen to that. I thought I was alone,” she said, hoping she hadn’t scared him.

“Hey, it’s cool.” The teenager looked more amused than anything.

Delaney didn’t see anything funny. “What are you doing here?”

“I go to school here. I’m with the cross-country team. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just thought I’d sit. Where is the cross-country team?” She looked around the empty bleachers and track.

“Running. They’ll be back in a mile or two. Why do you need to sit? You look like you’re dressed to run.”

What was it with this kid? He just kept poking at her. Fine. She was in a mood to poke back. “Well, so do you. Why aren’t you running with your team? Are you injured?”

“Heck, no. I don’t ever run. My parents think I’m on the team. I just chill here ’til practice is over, then make it look like I was running, and boogie home. It keeps them off my back for three months. Then they bitch for a couple months until it’s time to pretend to be on the track team.” The teenager shrugged his shoulders. “Why are you dressed to run if you aren’t runnin’?”

“I can’t run. Why don’t you run if you’re dressed for it?”

“Shoot, I can’t run either; besides, I don’t want to run anyway. Running is for nerds. Why can’t you run?”

Real life
, she heard Quinn say in her head. “I lost my left foot in an explosion. Why can’t you run?” She threw it right back at the kid.

“Seriously?” The kid leaned forward to try to see her foot. “I can’t run ’cause I’m fat. Looks like you got two feet from up here.”

“It looks like you got two feet from down here, and I don’t see you running.”

“Ain’t that a typical grown-up for ya. Your excuse is a reason, but my reason is just an excuse.” The boy stood and shuffled down the bleachers until he was even with her on the first row. “Well, bullshit, lady. I hear that every day at home. I don’t need to take that crap from you. Looks like someone gave you a fake foot. You sure walked in here on two. Ain’t two enough to run on?”

Delaney couldn’t believe this pimple-faced teenager was hassling her. Damn it. Was she wearing a
KICK
ME
sign? “You too, huh? Everyone’s telling me how lucky I am to be alive.”

“What else would you want? To be dead?”

“Huh, you don’t pull any punches, do you, kid?” Delaney squinted up at the teen. “No, I don’t want to be dead. Probably no more than you want to be overweight. Sorry, kid, if that hurt your feelings.”

“Nah. Hell, it’s kinda nice to have a grown-up hit me with some honesty for a change.” The teen maneuvered himself down to sit on the end of Delaney’s bench. “Most teachers are so ‘PC’ about my size it actually makes it worse. Kids think it’s hilarious to hear them talk about how ‘healthy’ I am or that I’m ‘big-boned.’ ”

Just then, the cross-country team burst out of the tree line onto the playing field next to the track. The leading pack of five runners was racing to the finish, pushing each other with insults. Delaney’s heart twisted as she remembered the wind in her face, her legs and arms pumping, pushing herself past pain into freedom. Running had lifted her from the messy confusion of life into a few moments of simple, sweet clarity. God, it hurt knowing she’d never feel that again. She quickly turned her head away and caught the kid’s look of longing as he too tracked the runners.

“You’re a fake. A big, fat fakety-fake.” Delaney leaned in to look at him as he tried to hide behind his “I’m too cool to bother” face.

“Bullshit, lady. You don’t know me.”

“Two all-beef patties of fake with special fake sauce on the side. You want to run so bad,” Delaney accused. “It was all over your face when you were watching them run.”

He nodded in her direction. “Right back at you, lady. Now what?”

“Well, hell. I think it means we’re going to have to run, Hoss.” Delaney could not believe those words had just left her mouth. Was it too late to take them back?

“The hell you say.” The teen stood up, pulling a water bottle out of his front sweatshirt pocket. He unscrewed the cap and proceeded to pour the water around his neckline, splashing some up under his armpits, then once over his head. Tossing the water bottle aside, he slapped his cheeks twice. Damn if he didn’t look just like he’d sweated during a hard run. “There. Cross-country practice is over, and I’m heading home and pretending I never talked with the one-legged crazy lady.”

Let it go, Delaney. Leave it alone, and both you and this kid can slip back into the safe harbor of denial.
Except she couldn’t block out the kid’s look of painful yearning. “What if I coached you?”

“Whoa. Wait. Lady, I don’t even know you.” He took a step back.

“My name is Delaney Lyons and I—”

“—hold the Climax High School record for fastest 5K and the mile. I’ve seen your name on the plaque in the trophy case. So, you’re gonna coach me. Where’s your skin in the game?”

“I told you. I can’t run. I lost a foot.”

“Hey, Luke Skywalker got his hand chopped off by Darth Vader in Cloud City and he didn’t quit.” He took a step toward her.

Delaney stood up from the bleacher seat and took a step in too. “He tried to commit suicide by throwing himself into the void of space. Only a garbage chute saved him. He quit.”

“Maybe I’m your garbage chute. Maybe you’re
my
garbage chute. He didn’t quit. Instead of giving in to failure, he asked his friends for help. He got his prosthetic hand and then became a major badass in the next movie.” With each point, he took slow, measured steps toward Delaney until he ended up standing toe-to-toe, looking down at her.

Delaney looked up from her five and a half feet, unwilling to let this kid intimidate her with his height and his bulk. “What is your point?”

“My point is I’m calling bullshit. You want me to take all the risk while you get to sit all safe on the sidelines wrapped in your excuse. Smells like grown-up bullshit to me. You think I’m the only overweight person in my family? My parents are on my case all the time, but who do you think buys our food and cooks our meals? Yeah, my overweight parents. You can bet they aren’t running.”

The kid was right. Delaney sat back on the bench and dropped her head into her hands to rub the building tension headache away. Damn, he was so right that she felt nauseous realizing she either had to accept this risk or walk away from a chance at a real life. Accepting meant no more living in denial, going through the motions, escaping into a bottle of wine or the nonsense of fuzzy red monsters. At least it could start here, on this track, which had saved her once before, and out of the prying eyes at the gym or the town Grapevine.

She lifted her head and looked at the teen. He’d been quiet for a few minutes, but when he looked at the seriousness of her face, the dim light of hope faded from his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He turned to walk away.

“No. You’re right. I am an absolute chicken-shit hypocrite. I’m in. Let’s go.”

Delaney stood up and limped toward the track.

Looking a little stunned that she had agreed to risk as much as he had, he followed her over to the track. “Now? Uh, you know I can’t run, right?”

“Aw hell, kid, neither can I. We’ll start slow. Baby steps. We’ll run a few steps, then walk. Run a few more, then walk. My leg hurts like a bitch and you’re out of breath already, but let’s go once around the track while we work out the details.” Delaney felt a spark of her once-famous determination. “I don’t care if we’re both crawling on our knees at the end—we will make it around this track. What’s your name, kid?”