by Mary Smith
“He’s not worth it,” he said close to his ear. “Leave him be.”
He wanted to argue but then a storm named Janan Long-Baer blew in. Her face was as red as fire with a look that would kill anyone in her path. Her eyes were on Jackson the entire time.
“You!” Janan pointed at him, causing him to turn around. “What the hell is your problem?”
“What do you mean?” he retorted with a sly tone. Jarvis could sense Jackson trying to hide his smirk.
Janan wagged her finger in his face. “Don’t fucking play me. Answer the question.”
He shrugged. “The puck got away from me.”
“I call bullshit.” Janan’s chest heaved. “This team, our staff, the twenty thousand fans in the arena and all the ones watching on their TVs will agree with me.”
Again, he shrugged, not saying anything.
“You’re done, Jackson,” Janan exclaimed. “I have let Cabel and Coach Long handle this but not anymore. You. Are. Through.”
“So, you’re trading me?” Now, Jackson smirked.
“Nope.” Janan narrowed her eyes, glaring harder at him. “I’m going to the commissioner. You’ll be blackballed.”
The entire room went silent. Jackson’s jaw dropped and his face paled. There were many terms used in the PHL but this one made any and every player stop whatever they were doing and freeze.
“Wh…what?” For the first time, Jackson stammered and stepped back.
“You intentionally lost the game. We all saw it. Therefore, I’m filing a complaint with the commissioner and will be asking for you to be blackballed.”
The paleness disappeared and rage filled Jackson’s face. Jarvis saw Hamilton, Janan’s husband, take a step forward. Cabel walked over to him then said something Jarvis couldn’t make out.
“You can’t prove that I intentionally missed the puck. Players miss passes all the time,” Jackson countered.
Jarvis hated to admit he was right, but he had a point. Even though they all knew the truth, the evidence might not be there.
“You’re right. It’s a tough one. However, it won’t be my only complaint.”
The team watched their interactions as if it were a tennis match.
“What do you mean?” Jackson questioned.
“Nova and I had cameras installed in here.”
This made Jarvis and several others glance around.
“Don’t panic, they’re not on when you all are running around naked. However, you have a tendency to come back in when everyone isn’t here.” Janan took a step closer to him as he took one back.
This made Jarvis’s heart stop.
“You like to look at phones,” Janan accused him. “Don’t you?”
Just then it hit Jarvis. That’s how Jackson knew about Joy’s abortion. They had messaged each other a lot because she had a very hard time afterward.
“You fuck!” Jarvis roared and lunged for Jackson, but Shade and Dag held him back. He wanted a piece of him. If he could reach him, he’d tear Jackson apart.
“Not only did you break our ethic clause, but I’m certain there are some privacy laws you violated. Let’s not forget you’re Jerry Cannon’s little spy.”
The realization came to light for all the players. Jackson fed all these private issues to the podcast, allowing them to be blasted all over the internet and world.
Jackson dropped his head. Jarvis knew this meant Janan had him. His eyes weren’t on her, but everyone on the team watched as she continued to glare at him. This went on for several seconds before Janan stepped back.
“Cabel, Nova, and I are going to handle the media today,” she announced. “Everyone needs to change and go home. No one is to talk to him or harm him.” Janan pointed to Jackson.
Shade and Dag let go of Jarvis. He respected Janan and would never go against her. No matter how badly he wanted to.
Joy drove Jarvis and her home, neither of them really talking. When they went into the condo, Jarvis went to his bedroom and took off his suit. The anger still pulsed through his veins from everything. He hated having all this pent-up energy. Normally, he’d have sex or call Lakota, but he did neither. Instead, he sat down in the chair by his picture window and stared out at Manchester’s skyline. His legs bounced. He twisted his hands. Nothing would get rid of it. He had to do something. Slipping on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, he grabbed his keys and jogged out to his car.
He knew where he wanted to go but wondered if she’d see him. Driving to the other side of town, his car stopped in front of Mikayla’s townhouse. There were a few lights on, and her car was parked in front of his. Picking up his phone, he called her. As he listened to it ringing, he figured she wouldn’t answer.
But she did.
“What do you want?” she barked.
“Hello, Mikayla. How are you?” he answered sweetly.
“Cut the shit. What do you want?” she repeated her original question.
Deciding not to play games he said, “I want to hang out with you.”
Mikayla scoffed. “Nope.”
“Kay.” He sighed. “Let’s just hang out. Let’s grab a coffee, maybe some food. I’ve had a shitty night and I need a…friend.” Exposing himself made him feel weak and good at the same time.
She said nothing.
“Kay, please.” His voice lowered as he begged. “I’m outside waiting.”
After several seconds, she said, “If you touch me or try to have sex with me, I’ll rip your balls off.” She ended the call.
Jarvis smiled at her feisty side and waited for her to come out. The porch light turned on as Mikayla stepped outside. Her jeans hugged her tightly and the black sweatshirt had the Bears logo on it. Obviously, she hadn’t changed from the game. He didn’t see her there, but honestly, he just wanted to get away from Jackson and the arena.
“Hi,” he said as she slid into the passenger seat.
“Hey.” She hadn’t glanced at him as she buckled her seatbelt.
Putting the car in gear, he pulled away from the curb and began to drive. Mikayla reached over and hit several buttons on his radio screen. Soon, Garth Brooks sang through the speakers causing Jarvis to roll his eyes.
“I figured when you left Shade you wouldn’t listen to this crap.”
“Shut up,” she growled. “My brother-in-law has great taste in music.”
“Whatever.” He sighed.
“If you’re just going to be an ass then take me back home.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.
“I’m sorry,” he rushed out. “I want this to be a good time.” He glanced at her briefly, needing to keep his eyes on the road. Her beauty flashed under the glow of the street lights.
“I believe it’s the first time you’ve apologized to me.” Her tone was low.
“You deserve a lot of ‘I’m sorry’s’ from me.” He went to reach for her hand, but he stopped himself and gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“Don’t play games.” Mikayla’s blunt, normal voice returned.
“I’m not.” He kept his tone even. “I’ll never play games with you again.” Hoping she believed his vow, he didn’t dare look at her. If he had, he’d pull over the car and profess his love again to her.
“Jarvis, you only know how to play games. It’s in your DNA.”
“It’s not the real me.”
To this, she laughed. “Are you trying to become an actor or something?”
Her glee hurt him, but he tried not to show it. He didn’t know how to get her to understand his words were truthful.
“I’m not acting,” he answered her.
Mikayla only giggled in return. He continued to drive. He didn’t want to be in Manchester. Merging onto the interstate he headed toward Boston.
“Where are you taking us? I swear if you’re going to kill me, you highly underestimate my ass-kicking powers.” She had her jaw clenched tightly.
“You have got to stop listening to that podcast.” He smirked.
“True Crime A
ll the Time is the best and stop avoiding the question.”
“No, I’m not going to kill you. Yes, I know you can kick my ass. Or so you think. Lastly, there’s a twenty-four hour truck stop that has better coffee than The Latte Bean.”
His answers seemed to appease her for the time being.
“You don’t trust me.” The hurt in his voice returned.
“To a point I do, but you are a very unstable human,” she quipped.
“Unstable? I am in many ways, but how do you think?”
“Wow, have I ever told you how much I love and enjoy vague answers and replies. It’s like rainbows and unicorns bouncing around my heart.” Her deadpan tone made Jarvis smirk.
As much as he wanted to blurt out everything he felt, he decided to listen to the radio and drive. He ached to touch her but knew he couldn’t right now. When they finally reached the truck stop, he rushed to open her car door, but she already was out of the car, staring at him.
“You don’t have to open my door,” she commented, passing him, and moved toward the door.
“Are you saying I shouldn’t be nice to you?” He grabbed the door before her but didn’t open it. He wanted to hear her answer.
“Nice? When have you been nice to me?” She crossed her arms as if challenging him to say something.
“I’m going to be better toward you,” he vowed. “You deserve a good man, and I’m going to prove to you that I am.” Never had Jarvis exposed himself emotionally to a female. He didn’t know how to react.
Mikayla had no response. They kept their eyes locked for several seconds. Jarvis finally opened the door, holding it for her.
“Thanks,” she mumbled as she walked into the diner.
They found a booth and Jarvis inhaled the smell of coffee, diesel gas, and grease. He knew this meal would cause him an extra hour in the gym, but right now, he didn’t care—he had Mikayla. The older-aged waitress came over. In her thick New England accent, she asked for their drink order.
“Coffee for me,” Jarvis spoke up.
“Do you have Hi-C Fruit Punch?” Mikayla asked, causing Jarvis to smile.
“Sorry,” the waitress said.
“Coffee, please,” Mikayla said kindly. “Why are you smiling?” she questioned him when the waitress walked away.
“You and your fruit punch.” He shook his head, chuckling.
“Hey, I could be a drug addict,” she argued. However, this made Jarvis laugh harder.
“Valid point,” he said as the waitress returned with their coffee.
“What are we having, kids?” The waitress had the pen and pad at the ready.
“I’ll have the pork breakfast,” Jarvis told her.
“Ew.” Mikayla turned up her nose. “Who eats breakfast at night?”
“People who are smart and hungry.” Jarvis smirked and continued with his order.
“For you?” She turned to Mikayla.
“I’ll have the American BLT, crispy fries, and coleslaw.” She smiled when she finished her order.
When the waitress left again Jarvis moved the sugar and creamer over to Mikayla. He knew she’d need both. He watched her dump at least four tablespoons of sugar and creamer into the cup, filling it to the brim. She always used more than the average person. Carefully, she stirred it and took a tiny sip.
“Are you going to stare at me? Because you said you wanted to talk.” She glanced up from the cup.
“I like staring at you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I should have known you were full of shit.”
“Okay.” He held one hand up to stop her defensive attitude. “I’m not full of anything but anger and hurt. I do want to talk to you and spend time with you.”
Mikayla’s hard gaze stayed on him for a beat before asking, “What has you feeling so out of whack?”
“Fucking Jackson. Fucking Plumley.” Saying his name made him seethe. Suddenly, he talked and talked about everything from the game to what happened in the locker room. He went on about how he felt and how he wanted to kick Jackson’s ass.
Just as he finished, the waitress brought their food. His stomach growled at the sight of the eggs, hash browns, ham, sausage links, and bacon. Glancing at Mikayla’s plate, the sandwich was packed with bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, and oozing American cheese.
“Jackson’s horrible. I applaud Janan for standing up to him.” Mikayla popped a small fry in her mouth. “Are you going to press charges? If you can, I mean.”
“Hell yes. I doubt he’ll receive jail time, but he’ll get something.” He stabbed at the eggs to break the yolks then mixed it with the hash browns.
“Have you thought about talking to Jackson? Getting to the bottom of his problems.” She cut her sandwich diagonally.
“Cabel sent him to see his wife Caryn, but that didn’t last long. Apparently, Jackson didn’t like seeing a psychologist. Dag, Shade, and Edgar continually went out of their way to be friendly, and he still was an ass. I think he’s just a horrible person.”
Mikayla raised an eyebrow. “I’m certain many would say the same about you.”
Stopping mid-chew, he stared down at his food. “Another valid point, but I’m trying to change and show you the real me.” He kept his head down. He thought Mikayla would have some smart comment, but she said nothing.
They both went back to their food. The silence continued as the sounds of the diner grew around them. When he was about half-finished, he set his fork down.
“Am I wasting my time?”
Mikayla furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
“I told you how I feel about you, but I don’t know if you even care about me.”
Pushing the plate away, Mikayla crossed her arms. He watched her eyes study him and then move around the patrons in the diner.
“Jarvis, if you didn’t mean anything to me, I sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here now.”
One quality she could be known for—she never lied.
“Then why don’t you believe me?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe, I know you. You only think of yourself unless it involves Joy. She’s the one thing that’ll make you human. If it wasn’t for her, you’d be your badass, bad-boy self. Someone who cared about no one and nothing.”
His stomach flopped almost as if he would throw up. Her words cut him. Cut him deep. Not because she was wrong but because the truth hurt. It gave him doubt he’d ever be able to shed away the fake persona he’d built.
“What are you thinking?”
Her question made him glance away from her.
“Tell me now and tell me the one hundred percent truth.”
Jarvis didn’t classify himself as a submissive, however, her authoritative tone almost made him fall to his knees and bear it all to her. Instead of falling down he chose the latter and spoke the truth.
“I’m thinking of what I need to do to convince you who I truly am and figure out the best way to tell you my true feelings about you.”
Pursing her lips and narrowing her gaze, she nodded up and down aimlessly. “Truthfully, I can’t tell if you’re a liar or not.”
“I’m being one hundred percent honest.” He hoped she would believe him.
“All right.” She sat back in the booth. “Tell me something you would never reveal to another person on this planet.”
Rubbing his jaw, he internally debated on what to tell her. Should it be something small? Huge? Or something to appease her? He wanted her to know everything. The good. The bad.
The…
“I’m a member of an ultra-private sex club.”
For some unknown reason, Mikayla erupted in laughter.
“Why is this funny?” He figured she’d have an editorial at the ready for him to criticize his club membership.
“Because I said something no one would even know. You belonging to some sex club is not a shock,” she told him still trying to control her hysterical laughter.
“It’s not the type of sex club you’re thinking,�
� he corrected her.
“Oh.” She feigned shock. “Are you a Furry? Brony?”
He rolled his eyes. “Mikayla, be serious.”
“I am.” She continued to giggle.
“Do you really truly think I’m going to that type of club?” His frustration rose because this brought some degree of humiliation to him. Many people assumed he was sexually active in the bedroom, but in truth, he lied. He had normal sex. Sure, he got odd, but again there wasn’t only pleasure for him.
This made Mikayla pause. He could tell she pondered his question by the expression on her face. The mix between confusion and what the answer really could be.
“All right, tell me about the sex club.” She leaned in, waiting to hear what he had to say.
“Did I say I would go into details about the club?” He smirked, teasing her. However, he bought himself a few seconds to decide what details he would go into. Thankfully, the waitress returned with fresh coffee and removed their half-eaten food.
“I know you, Jarvis. Spill.” Mikayla filled her fresh cup of coffee with sugar and creamer and waited for him to continue.
“Not tonight. I’ll save it for a more private setting.” The last thing he needed was some fan videoing him and plastering it all over Instagram.
“Oh, so you just assume I’m going to do this again with you?” She took a gingerly sip of her drink.
“I don’t assume anything. I know we’ll spend time together because I love you, and I want to prove I’m the one for you.”
She began to choke on her drink from his words. He even shocked himself. Yes, he did love her. He knew it, and he should have never denied himself of this revelation.
“You what?” She gasped still trying to catch her breath.
“I love you, and I’m the man for you,” he repeated more confidently than the last time. “I’m good to do everything I can to prove it.”
Her mouth opened and closed several times, but no sounds or words came out.
“Never thought I could render you speechless,” he joked, trying to bring her back to reality.
“You’re saying this to mess with me.” Tears began to fill her eyes.
“No, Kay. I swear I’m not messing with you at all. This is me.” The pain he felt from her sadness proved how much of an asshole he truly had been to her.