Second Down Love: A Second Chance Sports Romance

by Kara Hart

  I shake my head and start up running again. “I’ll see you, Ricky.”

  * * *

  I don’t hear from him for another day. Giovanni is back home and asleep in his room and my father, bless his soul, is relieved. The day is starting to feel like its stress free, and despite having fun with Hunter, it seems like we’ll have to part ways. Part of me thinks they already found and caught him.

  That, of course, is when there’s a strange knock on my window. Groggy and dressed in nothing but my panties, I glance at my half-open window to find him standing, soaking wet and out of breath. He’s shivering when he nods in my direction. I slide the window open and whisper “Hunter?”

  “I… I… needed to see you,” he stutters, freezing cold.

  “Yeah, well. Where the hell have you been? I thought you were dead,” I say. “You could have at least called from a pay phone.”

  “Just come outside and talk to me,” he whispers. “I know of a safe place we can go to.”

  I peek my head out the window and look left and right. “Alright,” I sigh. “But we have to be extremely careful. I saw Ricky again.”

  “What’d he say?” he asks me, turning serious.

  “He’s just playing his head games, as usual,” I whisper. “He wants me to feel like I’m being watched. Most of the time, I probably am. I’m just hoping he doesn’t have enough men to keep watch at this time of night. You’re risking everything by coming here.”

  “Then we better hurry, huh?” he stands there waiting for me to act. I grab a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, and a towel for him. Then, I jump out the window to my room.

  When we’re outside, I slowly close my window. “What happened to you? Why are you wet?”

  “I don’t really have a roof at the new place I got. It’s temporary, but this fucking rain has been killing me. Anyway, it’s no big deal,” he whispers.

  “Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. “It’s just around the bend.”

  We turn a corner and duck under a broken hole in the wall, and we come face to face with an old courtyard. In the center are a few cushions, a blanket, some food, and a bottle of wine. “Oh shit, I forgot!” he says, running to grab something in the corner. He pulls out a candle and lights it.

  “Fancy,” I mutter. “What is this for? Where’ve you been, Hunter?”

  “Business,” he says. “I took your advice. Decided to up and move before they found me. It was probably for the best too. I saw a few guys go in that warehouse yesterday evening. I can barely live like this, Bianca. But I’m trying my damnedest. For your sake.”

  “For my sake?” I ask feeling slightly annoyed by his response. “Don’t do anything for my sake. I’m just a girl with a few suggestions. It’s your life.”

  He pops open the wine bottle and pours two makeshift glasses. “What? What did I say? Why are you angry at me now?”

  “Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m okay.” I did feel kind of angry about the whole situation and I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t connected to this guy. He was just a summer fling, like I said before. A summer fling, that’s it. But something had changed between us. The stakes were somehow higher now.

  “Okay, well. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Maybe I should have told you I was going to be gone for a little while.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I lie. “I just thought you were dead. It scared me is all.”

  A sly smile forms on his face as he hands me the glass of wine. I take a sip and feel the bitter liquid open up my palate. “What?” I ask him. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “You care about me,” he laughs.

  “No I don’t,” I get defensive. “I care about myself and myself only. I don’t want Ricky to kill me.”

  “No, you definitely care about me,” he taunts me. “I can see it in your eyes. You want me around for a little while longer, don’t you?”

  “Frankly, I don’t care one bit.” I take another hurried sip of wine.

  “Alright,” he shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

  He hands me the plate of bread and prosciutto and smiles. All around us are the sounds of cars and crickets. In the far distance, I can hear someone yelling. The sounds of the beautiful city…

  “You like prosciutto right?” he asks me. I glance at him haughtily and take a bite as a response. He simply nods. “It’s good stuff, considering the position I’m in.”

  For whatever reason, I’m not saying anything. Hell, I don’t even know why. I just feel… a little weird about everything right now. There’s the whole thing with Ricky, then there’s my brother, and now Hunter is back in my life. I just want to feel normal again. I just want to be back in school.

  Finally, after chewing for a few minutes, he breaks the silence. “Okay. What’s wrong? Can you at least tell me what’s on your mind? I’m not a fortune teller. I’m doing the best I can here.”

  “Did you kill Michael Tucciano? Or are you just going to hide that from me too?” I finally ask him. The question has been eating away at me for days now.

  He makes a noise of confusion and puts his food down. “Is that it? Is that why you’re angry with me? Because you think I killed Michael Tucciano?”

  “Yes!” I nearly scream, until I realize just how dire our situation is right now. “And you didn’t warn me you were leaving. You should have at least given me a heads up.”

  “Bianca. Last time you left you made it very clear this was just a fun little fling for both of us,” he says. “Remember? I sure do.”

  “I don’t know what it is,” I sigh. “What I do know is that you should give me a little more than that. I deserve more information.”

  “Alright, fine,” he throws his arms up in the air. “From now on, I’ll give you more information.”

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling embarrassed by my reaction. I know I’m being difficult, even a little unreasonable. But my emotions are starting to fail me and I don’t know how to deal with it, dammit. Do I really like this guy? And if I do, why? It’s such a bad idea to fall for him. I’m only going to end up getting hurt.

  “I just don’t want to wake up tomorrow and never hear from you again,” I say. “Do you understand?”

  “I get it,” he nods, finishing his glass of red wine. I take a sip as well. “You’re in love with me.”

  I spit my wine out, spraying it on the bricks next to me. “What? I didn’t say that!”

  “You didn’t have to,” he laughs. “If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t react so harshly to my absence. It’s okay. I like you too, darling.”

  “Don’t call me darling, you buffoon!” I hiss at him. He laughs even harder when I say the word buffoon. “You’re a really good friend, okay? I’d do the same if my friend Teresa disappeared.”

  “Alright,” he puts his hand against my legs and squeezes gently. I suddenly remember Ricky and how rough he was with me, and I can instantly see the difference between the two men. Still, I push his hands from me when I start to think about my crazy cousin.

  “Hey, it’s fine. I get it. We’re just really good friends. Don’t worry,” he says, putting his hands in the air. “Sorry.”

  “Okay, good. So long as you understand,” I say. It’s an asshole move, but I don’t want to explain the situation to him. “Things are just really weird for me right now. It’s not you,” I tell him.

  He nods, understanding me. “It’s cool,” he says. “I get it. Honestly.”

  But as time passes, we move closer to one another. There’s not a star in the sky, only the few blinking satellites that can somehow stand strong against the city lights and smog. He whispers “You know, it’s funny. I don’t think I’ve actually had a real friend before.”

  I lean against his shoulder, feeling slightly drunk from the wine. “What? Never? I don’t believe that. What about your crew or whatever you call them? Weren’t they your friends?”

  He laughs and wraps his arm around my waist. “You think they gave a shit
about me? You see the position I’m in now, right? They didn’t care if I was alive or dead. Friends don’t sell friends out. They defend them to the end.”

  “It’s rough,” I suddenly say.

  “What is?” he asks.

  “Life out on the streets,” I sigh. “I’m just sorry you had to go through it.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve never know any other way,” he tells me. “Both my parents died a long time ago. They just disappeared. I’m talking like, out of nowhere they were gone. I figured they were killed. I used to have nightmares about it all the time. Shit, I still do sometimes. But I never really got any clarity about any of that. And now it’s just a fact of my existence. I was born into this world, taken in by the mob.”

  I exhale loudly and feel myself kissing his arm. Okay, maybe we’re a little more than friends. He kisses the top of my head. “There’s something I should tell you,” he says.

  “What?” I feel my stomach churn at the possibility of what he might say. “Are you going to kill me or something?” I laugh, but I’m really unsure if that’s a joke or not.

  “I killed Michael Tucciano,” he admits. “I did it, okay?”

  “I know,” I whisper. The bugs are buzzing around us and they seem to grow louder by the hour. “Why’d you do it?”

  “I had to, Bianca,” he says, turning very serious. “If I don’t protect myself, they’ll all kill me. They already tried to kill me.”

  “But why? Why did they try to kill you before? Can’t you tell me?” I ask him.

  He leans back against the blanket and I find myself falling against his chest. He runs his steady hands through my hair and I feel his heart beat against his chest. He’s calm and collected, but his blood runs heavy and strong.

  “They thought I was an informant,” he says nonchalantly. “I was seeing this stripper. I guess she was FBI. She ended up dying. Or maybe she didn’t at all. I don’t know. I’m still figuring this out myself.”

  I push myself off from his chest and look at him. “You dated an FBI agent posing as a stripper? What the hell?”

  “Look, it was a different time. I’ve learned a lot since then,” he says. “I wouldn’t say we were dating, but we saw each other a lot. You know, I was lonely. I did what everyone else was doing. I saw women. Can you blame me?”

  “No,” I whisper. “I guess not. I just think I might really hate you if I knew you back then.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you for that,” he says. “Tucciano told me Ricky gave the order for my hit. Listen, I have to go after him. He’s the last person on my list. He’s a very bad person, Bianca. Shit, you know all about it.”

  I jump onto my feet and back away from him. “But you can’t! He’s my cousin.”

  “What does that have to do with it?” he asks me, shocked by my reaction. “He practically tried to rape you, Bianca.”

  “So you fight fire with fire? That’s exactly what I hate about you people! You always have your guns drawn,” I say. “I’m sorry. I just thought you were a little different.”

  “It’s nothing personal. I would just rather stay alive than dead,” he argues. “If Ricky stays on these streets, I’m dead for sure.”

  “By the sound of it, you have the feds after you too. Why don’t you go after them then?” I ask him, feeling angered again. “None of this makes sense. Just disappear. Go to another country by boat. Get away from America.”

  “I need justice,” he says. “I need to know my killers have been dealt with.”

  “I don’t think I can sit here with a man who’s just going to go on killing forever. You’re just continuing the cycle of violence. Don’t you get it?” I ask him, slowly walking away. “I have to go home. I’ll see you around, Hunter.”

  “Wait, Bianca. You don’t understand,” he pleads, reaching for me.

  But I’m already gone and he doesn’t make an effort to chase after me.

  Hunter

  “Motherfucker!” I slam my fist against the brick wall and feel my knuckles crack. “Shit!” I grab my fist and massage it tenderly.

  I drop to the mattress and look up to the sky. My new home situation is about a million times worse than before. I’ve got no roof, and no space. All I’ve got are the clothes around my back and a suitcase of toiletries. I used to have Bianca. Sort of. Now, I have no one.

  Didn’t she understand the need for vengeance? Ricky was a danger to me and society at large. So how could she blame me for wanting justice? All I could do was sit alone with my thoughts.

  The fact of the matter is that she didn’t know what it was like to be led into a den of wolves. I remember how they treated me that night. There were at least ten guns pointed at me and my body immediately betrayed me. I turned cold with shock.

  I was lucky that bomb went off. That’s for sure. They had planted it in my car, just in case I escaped out the back. But due to faulty wiring, it went off right before they were about to do me in. With an explosion that big, the cops were sure to be on their way. So they ran out of the front, guns blazing. Lucky for me, they only hit my stomach and my leg.

  I was forced to limp and crawl out of that building. My guts were practically spilling out of my shirt. Blood was everywhere. I could feel the bullet still burning in my stomach. That’s something they don’t tell you: how hot the bullet is, even when it’s inside you. It just sits there burning and burning, stinging your insides.

  I spit up blood, feeling the dizziness set in. I was sure that this was death. That’s when I passed out.

  Bianca was the better thing in my life. But I can’t compromise what I need to do. I just can’t, dammit.

  * * *

  Hours later and I’m at that strip club again. I’m propped up in my booth and I’m drinking heavily. The music pulsates against my ear and I’m smiling like a fucking child. Only, this isn’t where I want to be. It’s just an excuse to feel better than I really do.

  “I didn’t think you’d come back,” that little blonde number comes walking toward me, shaking her ass from side to side. I guess her moves are supposed to be seductive. Instead, they just feel cheap. “I’ve missed you.”

  She tries to sit on my lap, but I’m not having it. In fact, I’d rather just be alone. I guess this isn’t the place for that, but I don’t know where to go. “What’s wrong?” she asks me. “Don’t you miss me, Daddy?”

  “Sure,” I mutter. And then I shake my head and admit “Actually, I don’t. There’s only one woman I miss.”

  “Oh.” She looks down at the sparkling floor. Neon lights glide down toward the stage. A woman with fake tits is swirling around the pole as if her life depends on it. Old men are chatting with the women at their tables as if they’ve been dating for years. Young men scream as they throw dollar bills onto the stage. It’s a sad state of affairs we’re in.

  “I see how it is now,” she sighs. “Well, why don’t you tell me about her?” I glance up and light a cigarette. “Honey, if you want to smoke, you’re going to have to buy a room.”

  I throw a wad of cash down onto the table. It’s Michael Tucciano’s money and I’m buying a damn room with it. She takes it and counts the bills individually. In the corner of the club, is a man with a tilted hat over his eyes. He glances over at me and I feel unusually concerned. “Take me to that room,” I mutter.

  She leads me down that familiar hallway and back into that same room we had fun in last time. Tonight bears a much different vibe.

  We sit down and she gently closes the door, dancing to the music on the speakers. “You want a dance, big boy?” she smiles, curling her tongue against her thick upper lip.

  She turns around and pushes her ass high into the air, her head nearly touching the floor. She’s an unusual specimen alright. “I’m sure. No dances for me,” I tell her. “I came to get away. That’s all.”

  “Well, you came to the right place,” she smiles, taking off her top.

  “God, just put on some clothes. Will you?” I hand her a towel to cover herself up. �
�You’re too young to be doing this.”

  “What are you, my father or something? Listen, I’ll leave if you want me to. You clearly want to be alone.”

  “Who was that man outside?” I suddenly ask her, motioning for her to sit back down.

  “What man?” she asks me, bored. “There’s plenty of men in here tonight, excluding you.”

  “The guy with the tilted hat. The one in the corner of the bar,” I say, grabbing the bottle of vodka from the icebox. I pour a shot and take it down.

  “I didn’t see anyone,” she shrugs. Suddenly, her eyes light up. “Why do you ask? You want me to bring him in here? Dang, mister. You’re pretty kinky.”

  I feel the weight of my pistol press against my leg. I have to be ready. Things are starting to feel very wrong. I shouldn’t have come here, for multiple reasons. Bianca is the woman I have my eye on. If I die before I get to fuck her, living would have been absolutely pointless. It’s not like I love the girl or anything. She’s just real. And beautiful. And everything I could ask for in a woman. Of course, now she hates my guts.

  “Don’t get funny with me, woman,” I say. I can hear footsteps coming in the hall. I put my hand against my gun as I feel my stomach start to tense up. “Let me ask you again. Who is the man with the tilted hat?”

  “I’m going to leave,” she whispers. “This isn’t too much fun.”

  She hesitates, but moves toward the door. The footsteps grow closer. I glance at the door and she jumps a little, as if she knows what’s coming. “What the fuck?” I whisper to myself.

  She just looks at me and gives me those dreary eyes. “I’m sorry. I had no choice,” she says. Fuck.

  I fall to the floor, wielding my gun. I take the safety off and wait. That’s when I hear the sound of pop, pop, pop, like a tire bursting on the side of the highway. Only, it’s not a fucking tire. It’s bullets from an AR-15.