Wide Open

by Tracey Ward

  “They weren’t always people I actually liked,” Kurtis continues, his voice growing more animated as he leaves his grandmas death behind him. “Like Bennet; he was an idiot who worshipped the ground I walked on. He was obnoxious but he fed my starving ego so I kept him close. Tommy and Kyla were the only ones I really considered friends. They were the only ones I wasn’t trying to get something from. Not yet, anyway.

  “When I drafted to the Kodiaks, Tommy became my business manager. He asked for the chance to work and earn the things I was giving him and Kyla because he was solid and he didn’t want to be a freeloader.” He grins feebly but affectionately. “I loved that about him. He’d always been a hard worker and I trusted him, so I said sure. I didn’t want to deal with all of that anyway. He took over handling the money, tracking the bills, writing the checks. He was terrible at it, but I couldn’t have done any better. We’d never seen the amount of money I was making before. It wasn’t easy to understand. It was damn near impossible to manage.”

  He pauses, looking out the side window at something passing by. A person walking a dog? A cat finding breakfast in the dumpster? Whatever it is, he gives it his full attention, giving himself an escape, before he slowly returns his gaze to the camera.

  “You know it by now. You’re sleeping in the proof. I’m broke. Or at least I used to be. I’m finally making it back, almost three years later. The endorsements have helped. They paid off my back taxes that Tommy ignored. The debts though, those were the worst. We spent all of my cash, tore through all of the credit we could get our hands on. Tommy had my social security number and when the cash started disappearing he opened credit accounts and took out loans trying to hide it. He was too scared to tell me he’d ruined me. At its worst, I was eight million dollars in the hole.”

  “Holy shit,” I gasp, my head swimming. I can’t fathom that amount of debt. I come from a well off family – my mom has been a regular on a successful crime drama for the last decade – and I still find the number shocking. I feel sick just imagining it. I can’t grasp what it’s been like living with it.

  “It would have been easy to get angry at Tommy for what he did to me,” Kurtis continues, his voice tired. His eyes tight. “And I was. But in a sick way it was a relief. Like we were even because he had fucked me while I had been fucking him; while I fucked Kyla behind his back.”

  My jaw drops in shock, and I realize with dread that we’ve reached the confession chapter of his story.

  “Back then I wasn’t denied anything. I could walk into any club I wanted, buy anything I saw, sleep with whoever got me hard. And I’d wanted Kyla for years. But she’d always been Tommy’s girl so I never touched her.” He shakes his head in disgust, his lips curling up over his teeth. “I was a better man at thirteen than I was at twenty-three. But after I went pro she was suddenly living in my house, eating my food, drinking my booze. And one night she was giving me head. She offered and I said yes, and I couldn’t believe it when she actually did it. I felt so guilty I was sick for weeks after that. She was always there, though. My guilt was right there in front of my face, but I still wanted her. I’d had a bite but I wanted the whole meal. Then one night we were having a party and she fell in the pool. I walked in on her in the bathroom getting dried off. She hadn’t locked the door and she was standing there soaking wet and staring at me with these big eyes, pleading with me to go and stay at the same time.

  “I had sex with her,” he spits out with disdain. “She begged me to do it and I did, and I was relieved it finally happened, like I could finally stop fighting it. But I couldn’t look her in the eyes after that. I couldn’t talk to Tommy. I swore it’d never happen again. Then a week later it did. And again two days after that. It kept happening, over and over again, and eventually it stopped feeling wrong. Or I got so calloused I couldn’t feel much of anything anymore. It started to feel good because she wanted me. It was wrong but she didn’t care. She wanted me so much that nothing else mattered. I started to wonder if that’s what love was.

  “One morning I had her laid out on the kitchen island while Tommy was at the store. Nate found us. He was one of the other guys living in the house. I don’t know how many were there at that point. I lost track. But he walked in, saw us, and just smiled like he thought it was hilarious. He left without a word. That’s when I realized I wasn’t even trying to hide that it was happening. I was that big of a prick that I was boning my best friend’s girl in broad daylight, and I hated myself for it. I hated Kyla. I hated Tommy for not catching on and kicking my ass.”

  I’m surprised when Kurtis looks directly into the camera lens, breaking his narrative to address me personally. “This is why I can’t hide us anymore. It reminds me of Kyla and it gives me this knee jerk feeling of guilt. I don’t want to feel that way with you. You were right when you said we’re more than sex, and that’s all Kyla and I ever were. It was lust. But you and me, we’re—” He hesitates, searching for the right words. “You and me, Harper, we’re something bigger, and whatever it is, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want to lie about that or hide it. I never want to look at you and regret you. Never.”

  I press my hand over my mouth, breathing into it slowly. I want to kiss him so badly it hurts. I want to turn off this tape and tell him that I’ve seen enough. That I know more than I need to, because this right here, the fact that he’s talking about us in the present tense like we’re not finished, like he’ll never be finished with me, is all I need to know.

  He takes a deep breath, leaning back hard against his seat. The leather protests quietly before it’s drowned out by the rush of air escaping Kurtis’ lips. He’s looking out the windshield again. “Eventually Tommy couldn’t take his guilt anymore. Actually, I think he couldn’t hide it anymore, but either way, he told me what happened to the money. He explained that I was in debt and the IRS was going to come calling. He expected me to fight with him. To yell at him, but how could I? After what I’d been doing, how could I be mad at him? But I couldn’t be real with him either. I was too scared he’d leave. So I told him to get me what cash we had and meet me at the car. We took off for Vegas for four days straight trying to earn some money back. I was a regular there already. I went almost every chance I got to play poker at the high roller’s tables, and normally I won. I’d always been good at cards.”

  He grins crookedly, almost boyishly. The expression softens his face and he looks younger than I’ve ever seen him. Like it’s three years ago, before he betrayed his friend, before he knew what guilt was, and he’s in his Challenger parked outside a Vegas hotel. He’s got a wad of cash burning a hole in his pocket. I can see him, who he used to be, and it doesn’t disgust me the way he’s convinced it will. It makes me sad. It’s confusing and painful, but there’s nothing revolting about him. He hates himself for betraying his friend, but hate is too violent a reaction to a boy who was desperately looking for love. For a beautiful, talented man with zero sense of self-worth.

  “It’ll probably surprise you,” he jokes weakly, “but I have a good poker face. Just not that day. Or the days that came after. I wasn’t focused. I lost even more money, all the cash we had left, and I sunk deeper in debt. That’s the problem with gambling. You can’t want it too badly. The second it becomes a necessity, you lose your edge. It’s a jinx you’ll never shake.

  “We went back to L.A. to find Kyla staying at a hotel. The rest of the guys had disappeared, taking anything they could get their hands on before they left. Kyla told us we’d been evicted from the mansion we were renting. Tommy hadn’t paid in three months. That night in the hotel Kyla and I ended up in the bathroom together while Tommy slept in the other room. We didn’t touch each other. We could barely look at each other. We talked and she cried I did everything I could not to. We were trash and we knew it. I’d never felt it more than that moment. I asked her if she was going to tell Tommy and she said no. She said she loved him. She wanted to marry him, and if he knew about us he’d never
stay with her. I told her I didn’t want to lie to him anymore. She asked me to never speak to him again as a compromise. I agreed. I took the coward’s way out. I’ll always be ashamed of that. He screwed me too, but at least he had the balls to tell me to my face.”

  Anger on Kurtis’ behalf rises up inside me and I want to tell him he’s wrong. Tommy wasn’t any braver than he was. He said it himself; Tommy confessed everything when he couldn’t hide it anymore. He sunk Kurtis deeper in debt trying to hide his mistakes from him.

  “I left the hotel without saying goodbye to Tommy. I bought them bus tickets back to Jersey and slipped them under the door. Then I drove to Hollis’. He was the only person I could go to. I was too embarrassed to call any of the other Kodiaks and I couldn’t ask them to help me, not with all the gambling I’d been doing. If I went down for it, I’d take them with me.”

  He looks into the camera again, speaking directly to me. I can see the fear in his eyes. It sends an apprehensive chill racing down my spine. “This is important. This is the reason I’ve kept it all a secret. It’s not just that I hate what I did to Tommy. It’s the gambling. The desperate gambling and the games that came after it. I was messed up after Tommy and Kyla left. I was alone again and I stopped talking to the other players. I stopped clicking with them on the field. My performance was notoriously bad at the end of that season. To the point that people blamed me for the loss of the championship game that could have taken us to the Super Bowl. If anyone knew I was broke at the time and that I was making trips to Vegas, I’d be investigated. They’d think I was betting on games and intentionally throwing them to win. It’s illegal, but even worse, it’d get me banned from the NFL. I never bet on my own games but the evidence is stacked against me, and when I finally explained it all to Hollis he agreed with me. I couldn’t tell anyone. He took me in that night and gave me a place to sleep. He said we’d make a plan to pay my debts in the morning, and we did. I lived with him in his spare room for the rest of the season.

  “I was drinking a lot. I wasn’t sleeping. Even after Hollis told me we could fix my financials, I drove out to Vegas with whatever money I could get my hands on. It never went my way, though. I won at most fifty thousand dollars.”

  “Oh, is that all?” I laugh uncomfortably. I’m rocked to the core by the barrage of information he’s given me, torn over how to feel about the man he was, the man he is, and the massive disconnect between the two of them. But in the midst of it all, his lack of perspective on finances is still funny to me in an ulcer inducing sort of way. But I guess that’ll happen to you when you’re facing eight million dollars in debt. Fifty thousand doesn’t mean to you what it used to.

  “Hollis got together with Coach Allen and they told me I had to stop. That’s when Coach came up with the plan to trade me away from L.A. He thought I needed a fresh start and distance from the desert. From Vegas.”

  I smile fondly, my love for Coach Allen soaring. “Smart man.”

  On camera Kurtis takes a deep breath, expanding his chest slowly. It’s like he’s rising. Coming up for air after being underwater for a very long time.

  “And that’s it; every dirty, dark secret I have. That’s my truth.”

  There’s an awkward moment where he looks away, looks into his own eyes at the camera, and it clear he’s debating. He’s unsure if there’s more to tell or something he should say to me. Eventually he reaches for the camera, his face coming in close to the lens as he goes to turn it off. I hurry to pause it. To capture him where I can look at him. Where I can see him, because I do now. So much more clearly than I could before.

  My heart aches for him and Tommy. Even for Kyla. It hurts for the pain they all caused each other and the complete loss of love between all of them. I get it now, why he has such a hard time trusting people, and the fact that he made me this video, that he trusts me with his truth, is staggering. It sits like a stone in my chest, swelling until it hurts, until it’s hard to breathe, and I know what I have to do to ease the pain.

  I tap the screen twice, bringing up the short list of commands on the camcorder. I hesitate only half a second before I hit DELETE.

  On the bed, lost somewhere in Kurtis’ sheets, my phone begins to ring.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  KURTIS

  I don’t go far. I’m not leaving her alone for too long, not with Derrick stalking her. I go down to the local bakery and I’m only gone for an hour. The sun is lighting up the sky when I pull into the parking lot in front of my apartment. I don’t have a designated spot or a garage. No carport. If all of the spots in this small lot are taken, I’ll have to park my Challenger on the street, and that is not happening. I can’t keep it here for long. She needs a garage, somewhere I can keep her safe, and that means I have to put her back in storage and go get my Blazer. Either that or I have to move.

  As I step out of the car, running my hand along the roof glowing in the weak yellow light of dawn, I think moving sounds like the best option.

  I just got her back. I’m not about to give her up again.

  I’m nervous on the way up the stairs to my apartment. Harper will be done with the video by now. She’s had time to digest what I told her, but what will it mean? Will she be disgusted with me? Will she believe me that I never bet on my games? Will she show the video to the NFL? To the world?

  When I open the door to my apartment, my heart sinks. Harper has been busy. She’s dressed, her hair and minimal make-up are perfect. Her bag that was a detonated bomb on the floor when I left is packed up tight. The bed has been made. Her shoes are on.

  She’s standing by the window overlooking the busy street outside. Her cell phone is on her ear, but she turns to smile at me when I come in. She holds up her finger, asking me for a minute.

  I ease a little when I see her smile. It’s gentle and generous, no judgement in her eyes. I nod in silent agreement to give her time, taking my brown bag of breakfast to the kitchen.

  “What about my car?” she asks the person on the other end. “I don’t want to drive it all the way out there but I don’t want to be stranded either.”

  She nods slowly as she listens to the answer. “Right. Sounds good… Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. I think you’re right. I think this is the perfect solution… Yes, you’re a genius… No, you really are. You’re a lifesaver. I love you… Yeah right. Don’t worry about me. I want nothing to do with your weird body… Right back at you… Yep. ‘Bye, Travis.”

  She hangs up the phone, turning toward the kitchen.

  I brace my hands on the counter. I wait.

  Harper smiles again compulsively and I can’t understand where her head is at. Something has happened. She’s reacting to more than just my confessions and it’s swirling her emotions, making her impossible to read.

  Her eyes land on the grease spotted bag between my hands. It lures her in close. “What’d you get?” she asks lightly, moving around the kitchen to stand next to me. “I’m starving.”

  I push the bag toward her. “Donuts. Assorted. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

  “Everything. I like everything.”

  I watch as she digs in, pulling out a maple bar and taking a massive, contented bite. “Mmmm, so good. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She looks up at me curiously, a thin sheen of sugar on her lips. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

  You, I think longingly.

  “Lemon filled,” I answer.

  “Weird.”

  “That’s pretty judgmental for someone in your field. Aren’t you supposed to stay impartial?”

  “That’s what they tell me,” she mutters, looking away. Taking another bite.

  I can’t take it. My stomach is in knots, my heart heavy in my chest. My blood is sludge in my veins, pushing painfully through my body. I have to ask. I have to know.

  “Harper,”

  “I deleted it.”

  I turn toward her, sagging against the counter. “You deleted it?”
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  “Yes. Of course I did. It was private.”

  “Did you watch all of it?”

  She puts down her donut, turning to face me. “I did. And do you want to know what I think?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think your lighting was shit.”

  I snort, caught off guard. “You’re messing with me.”

  She grins softly. “I am. A little bit.”

  “It’s mean.”

  “I’m not a good person.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “Then we’re perfect for each other, don’t you think?”

  I search her eyes. Her stars. “I think we are.”

  Her grin widens to a smile as I watch her. As we look at each other with no lies between us. She’s gorgeous in the light. In truth. She sees me, all of me, and she’s giving me so much. So many things I’ve never had before. Faith, hope, love, honesty. Trust.

  No one has ever looked at me the way Harper does in that moment, and I hope no one else ever will. If I can’t have this from her, I don’t want it from anyone.

  “Can I ask you some questions about the video?”

  I laugh, unable to stop it. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. Fire away.”

  “Okay,” she agrees, picking up her donut again. “Kyla and Tommy. Did they get married?”

  I nod, the movement jerky and stiff. “Yup. Last spring, according to a guy from the old neighborhood. She was six months pregnant.”

  “Wow.”

  “It’s what they wanted.”

  “Yeah, but Tommy didn’t know about her. He didn’t know she cheated.”

  “He didn’t know I helped her do it,” I remind her darkly.

  She studies me patiently. “You take on a lot of the blame for what happened. I don’t think that’s fair.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t take all of it. I think Kyla deserves a lot of the blame too. I didn’t seduce her. I didn’t pursue her. She was a willing participant every single time.”