Out of Bounds Read online

  Out of Bounds

  Driven by Fire, Volume 2

  Eden Rayna

  Published by Eden Rayna, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Eden Rayna

  First Edition — 2019

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information browsing, storage, or retrieval system, without permission in writing from Eden Rayna.

  ISBN: 978-1-9990873-3-3

  Cover Design by Rena Violet

  Also by Eden Rayna

  Driven by Fire

  Just a Fling

  Driven by Fire

  Out of Bounds

  Focused on You

  Watch for more at Eden Rayna’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Eden Rayna

  Dedication

  Chapter 1 Bobby

  Chapter 2 Luke

  Chapter 3 Bobby

  Chapter 4 Luke

  Chapter 5 Bobby

  Chapter 6 Luke

  Chapter 7 Bobby

  Chapter 8 Luke

  Chapter 9 Bobby

  Chapter 10 Bobby

  Chapter 11 Luke

  Chapter 12 Bobby

  Chapter 13 Luke

  Chapter 14 Bobby

  Chapter 15 Luke

  Chapter 16 Bobby

  Chapter 17 Luke

  Chapter 18 Bobby

  Chapter 19 Luke

  Chapter 20 Bobby

  Chapter 21 Luke

  Chapter 22 Bobby

  Chapter 23 Luke

  Chapter 24 Bobby

  Chapter 25 Luke

  Chapter 26 Bobby

  Chapter 27 Luke

  Chapter 28 Bobby

  Chapter 29 Bobby

  Chapter 30 Luke

  Chapter 31 Luke

  Chapter 32 Bobby

  Chapter 33 Bobby

  Chapter 34 Luke

  Chapter 35 Bobby

  Chapter 36 Luke

  Chapter 37 Bobby

  Chapter 38 Luke

  Chapter 39 Bobby

  Chapter 40 Bobby

  Chapter 41 Luke

  Chapter 42 Bobby

  Chapter 43 Luke

  Chapter 44 Luke

  Chapter 45 Bobby

  Chapter 46 Luke

  Chapter 47 Bobby

  Chapter 48 Luke

  Chapter 49 Bobby

  Chapter 50 Luca

  Chapter 51 Bobby

  Chapter 52 Bobby

  Epilogue

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  Also By Eden Rayna

  About the Author

  I dedicate this book to the incredible online writing community. Without your help, encouragement, advice and humour, I would have given up long ago!

  Chapter 1

  Bobby

  I stand up, bracing my lower back and groan like a rusty hinge while stretching out the kink. “I think we need to be done for the day, guys. What do you think? Time for burgers and beer?”

  “Ugh! Finally!” Piper bellows from the other end of the hall. She pops into my bedroom where I am unpacking and gives her back a good twist before losing herself in a dreamy stare out the sliding glass balcony doors. I move to her side and drape my arm casually around her shoulder. It didn’t take too long for my twin brother Brandon’s girlfriend to become like a sister to me. She must have the same affection for me because no one volunteers for an inter-city weekend move if they’re not family.

  “This is my favourite thing in the house,” she tells me, her voice is breathy as she speaks on a dreamy exhale. Piper’s shoulders relax under my hand, taking in the view of the jagged mountain peaks and sturdy pines that make up the backdrop to my new home. Saying it out loud reminds her body to enjoy it as her mind does. I exhale along with her but it has the opposite effect on me as I fill with energy and excitement. This is exactly what I need in my life right now. A change of scenery to something familiar. And it’s a scene that I will revel in every day from now on. This house boasts immense windows that reach the roof’s A-frame peak, offering world-class views from every angle. It was built for the long summer days when the sun rises at five in the morning and sets at ten at night.

  “The windows are pretty cool, but I’m leaning toward the kitschy bear-print fabric on the couches and chairs in the living room.” Piper is already laughing before I add, “What was Brandon thinking?”

  While I will be calling this place home for the next year, this gorgeous Rocky Mountain chalet belongs to my brother. For Brandon, it’s just another piece of property that sits empty for the majority of the year while he and Piper live in Edmonton. For me, it’s a dream come true. It’s two thousand square feet of unobstructed mountain views. I can sit in any one of three bedrooms, on any one of four balconies, in the kitchen, the living room or the dining room and see the Rockies. The bathrooms even have a view.

  Yeah, the windows are my favourite part of the house.

  The house isn't the best part of living here, though. What's even better than looking at the mountains from behind the safety of glass, is conquering them at top speed. Banff has some of the best skiing in Canada and I plan on taking full advantage of it this winter. I cut my teeth on competitive skiing and after several years on the international circuit, including one failed Olympic attempt, I gave it up for more mainstream life. By that I mean I went back to school and got a job as a paramedic then went to work in the oil sector.

  Adulting in Northern Alberta meant I was too far from any decent slopes to get out regularly. So, like many things in my life, I suppressed my desire to ski. I don’t need to hold back anymore, though. As of today, I am fifteen minutes away from the closest hill, which means I can work a full day and still hit the slopes for some night runs. I can almost feel the wind whipping at my face, the bite of the cold air on my cheeks and the rush as I barrel down the mountain. An excited layer of goosebumps breaks out on my arms and I rub them down with a huge smile playing on my lips. Who needs job perks when the simple act of living here makes me giddy? That’s not to say I won’t take the multi-mountain pass I get with my new gig. A woman who has been unemployed for nearly a year still needs to watch her loonies and toonies.

  I have to reel in my excitement of reliving my glory days on the hills, though. First of all, because the glory days are well behind me. Second, because getting there will take some patience since it’s August. I have to make it through the end of hiking season, the fall shoulder season (known to the paramedics here as stupid-tourists-interacting-with-wildlife season) and then I can have my fun. If only winter could last all year. Not too many people in the city understand my passion for the snow, but I know I will find many kindred spirits in this mountain town.

  “You’ve got something smudged across your forehead,” I tell Piper when our mutual gaze outside is interrupted by the sound of Brandon coming down the hall. Piper reaches for a tissue to wipe it off when Brandon comes up from behind, swiping my favourite hoodie off the bed and throwing it at her.

  “Here, use this,” he grins. “The dirt won’t make it look any worse.” This is why there’s no remorse in making fun of his design sense or lack thereof.

  I snatch it mid-air and tuck it tight to my chest. “Gimme that!” I growl at Brandon.

  He takes Piper by the hand and pulls her toward the door. “We’ll be ready to go in twenty. Please co
nsider wearing something other than the sweatshirt.”

  Although Brandon is dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt for moving day, he is all about dressing to impress. As he says, you never know where you’ll meet your next client. It’s easy for him to look great every day when his bank account has more zeros in it than mine ever will—unless you count the zeros that come before any other number. Since my clients usually come in a medically distressed form, I don’t think they are too concerned about what label I wear. Even still, I know better than to wear my decade-old University of Alberta sweatshirt out of the house. It holds too many memories to risk getting ruined by spilled beer or a ketchup blob.

  I mouth some snarky words to Brandon’s back as they trudge off down the hallway. “I heard that!” He calls from three paces outside of my bedroom.

  “I didn’t even say anything out loud!”

  “I felt it on the back of my neck.” It’s probably true. It’s a twin thing.

  I stomp my foot at his impudence and consider wearing the sweatshirt simply to get his ire up. But I do want to make a good impression because similar to what Brandon says, I never know where I will meet my next friend. This being my first day in my brand-new hometown, I opt instead for boyfriend jeans and an off the shoulder navy blue top. Fun and casual and up to Brandon’s standards.

  Not much later we’re pushing our way through the heavy wooden doors of the Banff Avenue Brewery. “Seems like you made a good choice, bro.” I offer him a rare compliment that isn’t laced with sarcasm. Music, laughter, chatter and the smell of delicious food come wafting our way. The vibe is palpable and it offers one more checkmark on my list of reasons why I moved here. We haven’t even sat down and I know this is my kind of scene. It’s a room full of hiking boot-wearing, backpack-carrying, flannel shirt-sporting people. Now all I need is to meet some of them so I don’t have to come here all by myself next time. I’m sure the other paramedics will help introduce me around, but it’s good to have a few friends outside of work. Being a paramedic can be pretty intense and sometimes I’ll need someone who doesn’t know the industry to let the stresses of the day go.

  The three of us grab a table and a server is with us in mere minutes telling us about the craft beer and the Rockies-inspired menu. Bison, elk, juniper berries, fiddleheads... It all sounds amazing and I like that I won’t have to sample everything in one night. Even with the relaxed jeans I have on, there’s no way I could pull that off anyway. Piper, on the other hand, is experiencing some serious FOMO. Being a chef, she loves trying new and creative things. I wouldn’t be surprised if she found herself in the kitchen by the end of the night, interrogating the chef for vendor names.

  Not long after we order, drinks spanning the beer colour spectrum from blonde ale to stout are dropped off on our table. I raise mine high in cheers and the others follow.

  “Thanks, you two, for helping out. I know I didn’t give you much of a choice, Brandon, but I appreciate you driving the truck for me so that Suzette could be here with me.” Brandon graciously drove the small moving truck while I drove my fifteen-year-old Honda Civic hatchback. Admittedly, it isn’t the best vehicle to have in a town that sees more snowy days than dry, but I’ve had Suzette since I was sixteen and first able to drive, so she was definitely making this journey with me.

  “Suzette?” Piper inquires.

  Brandon chuckles, “She named her car Suzette.”

  Piper furrows her brow, “But it’s a Japanese car.”

  Her confusion is valid. “I got her after coming back from training in France. I was in a French phase for about six months after that.” I say it with an air of confidence intimating that I pulled off my French accent even without having studied a day of the language in my life.

  Brandon laughs again. “She wore a beret everywhere she went and entered every room with a flourish and a bonjour!”

  I shrug my shoulders. “What do you want from me? I was sixteen!”

  Brandon shares more embarrassing stories from my childhood with Piper as she quizzes me on what it was like to travel so much at such a young age. I tell her honestly that travelling that often was overrated. We never got to be tourists because we were always training or racing. Since everything was sponsored, we didn’t spend more time in a location than was necessary. And, of course, none of us could afford to travel on our own. We were kids.

  "One day I'll go to see France and Italy like it was meant to be seen. From the window of a tour bus!"

  “Well, you might not have been a typical tourist, but I bet you saw parts of those countries that regular tourists never get to see and experience things that other kids your age never got the chance to do.” She continues after a big gulp of air, “And to be in the Olympics when your country hosted, that’s pretty incredible!”

  It’s true, my adolescence and early adulthood were exceptional because of my choice to become a downhill ski racer, but it wasn’t without sacrifice. Unnoticed by Piper, Brandon senses my change in demeanour and reaches under the table to squeeze my hand that fell into my lap. My childhood wasn’t bad but he knows what I gave up and the losses I suffered.

  Pulling me from my slide down memory lane is a loud burst of laughter from the back of the pub. We all swivel to see what the ruckus is. A guy stands with his back to us at a large table of about ten people making an announcement or speech of some kind. Whatever he’s saying must be hitting the spot because he is repeatedly met with loud cheers. Other individuals stand and receive rounds of applause like he is handing out awards. Initiating Mission: Make Friends, I stop our server as she passes by to ask what's going on over there.

  “Oh, that’s a group of locals who get together once a month for a day of hiking or snowshoeing. They always come back here afterward. Sorry they’re so loud.” She kindly places a hand on my shoulder like their volume is that offensive. “We try to keep them away from everyone else because they can be so noisy, but there are only so many corners we can shove them in,” she says with a hint of sarcasm to her voice.

  "Can anyone join them?" I ask with intrigue and dispelling her need to worry about my sensibilities.

  “Only if you live here full time.” I nod indicating that I fit the bill. “They’re loud but really friendly. Ask for Tony, he’ll give you the details.”

  “Thanks,” I say with a wide smile. She gives a quick wink in response and she walks off to another table.

  “Look at you go, Bobby, making friends already,” Brandon chirps.

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “Don’t count my eggs before they hatch. I’ll go find Tony after we’ve eaten and see if I’m worthy of joining their club.”

  Piper looks me sharply in the eye. “When they find out about your celebrity past, they’ll welcome you with open arms.” I scoff at her. Piper is the only one who thinks I’m all that and a bag of chips. It’s been a long time since my name was anything special.

  Chapter 2

  Luke

  “Everybody take a seat!” I call out, trying to grab everyone’s attention for the third time. People finally start to move around the long table that is set up in the back corner of the Banff Avenue Brewery. The dull sound of chairs scraping along the worn wooden floor replaces some of the chatter.

  Badger blasts out, “Time for free beer!”

  This gets people to turn my way and put off further conversation. The last faces ultimately settle in my direction with looks of anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen," I start, "and Badger," I say pointing toward the end of the table where the oaf of a man sits. Everyone laughs and Badger thumps himself twice on the chest before raising his hands in a gesture of victory. He'll celebrate anything and anyone, even if no one else knows why.

  “Thank you all for joining us in this month’s Local’s Lumber. The hike today was probably one of the more challenging this group has gone on.” Heads nod and mumbles of assent are made around the table. “And I think we have all earned our suds tonight.” A couple of people whoop at that. “And, as always, there
are a particular few who have earned them more than others.” I share a knowing glance with the group, not letting my eyes settle for too long on any one person to keep the suspense up. A few names are shouted out in assumption of who the winners are of our monthly awards. Honourable mentions always come with the prize of a pint.

  “Let’s get on with it, then. The Bad Luck Chuck award goes to,” I don’t even have to ask for the drumroll for people to start banging the table, “Jules! For the five-star faceplant she did one kilometre into the hike!” Jules stands and takes a bow before she Vanna Whites the road rash up both forearms and high fives her neighbour.

  "Congratulations, Jules," she takes her seat again. "Next, the Getting Nowhere Fast award goes to," I can't even say the name before everyone screams, "Dan!" Dan rises to a round of applause, his hands lifted high in the air like he just won an Olympic medal. "Is that three months in a row for you, Danny Boy?" He nods with a toothy grin plastered on his face. "What is it that you like about having to wait at the top of the trail for the rest of us?"

  He shrugs. "Easy, the silence. You fuckos are so loud, it kinda ruins the view!" Everyone stomps and jeers as loudly as possible to drive the point home. There are quite a few competitive people in our casual hiking group, but Dan takes it to a whole new level. It's a good thing he has a great sense of humour and a kind heart deep down because his git ’er done attitude could easily be misconstrued as cocky.

  Dan takes his seat so I can announce the last award. “And last but not least, the House Mom award goes to,” I swivel myself to the right and with outstretched arms point, “Carrie!” More cheers are shouted as Carrie looks around the group shocked and blushing fiercely. This is, after all, only her second hike with us and she is still getting to know how we do things around here.

  Embarrassed as she is, she takes it in stride and stands up. “Well, put me in a pair of kitten heels and a knee-length skirt and call it a day!” Carrie curtsies, pretending to pull at the sides of her skinny jeans as though she is indeed wearing a skirt. Laughter erupts around the table. Carrie bats her eyelashes coquettishly while she covers her heart with both of her hands. She is quite the actress. Not surprising given that she works at the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity.