“Why are you opening your fucking mouth? Is there any remote reason why I want your dumb ass to speak to me?” He takes a step toward Mom, and I push him back away from her.
“Don’t talk to her like that.”
“She’s mine! I can and and do whatever the hell I want to her!” He tries to walk to her to prove his point, but I intercept again. His arm swings back and he punches me in the face.
Without a second thought, I grab him by the collar, punching him twice, ducking when he swings back to throw a jab at my stomach instead. A hand touches my back and it’s like I can hear again.
“Blake! Stop! Stop it!” Mom screams.
I shove Jack away, smiling on the inside when he stumbles backward.
“Go home,” Mom orders. “Be sure to take care of your lip, it’s busted.”
I hold my hands up; I’m not going to argue and turn to leave. That motherfucker can still hit just as hard as I remember. Age is not slowing him down at all.
The anger is still coursing through me when I get home. I grab a bottle of whiskey and don’t bother pouring a shot, instead drink straight from the bottle. Alcohol will ease the pain, both physical and emotional. I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that he was talking about Sofia like he was or how I lowered myself to his level and fought back.
If I ever needed a sign that I’m like him, there it is. I let my anger get the best of me and lost control. God, I hate him. The thought of how pissed he is now, how he’s probably going to go after Mom since I’m not there ties my stomach into knots, and makes me drink faster.
Before long, I’m good and drunk.
And poor Sofia. She and her family had to suffer through his presence tonight. I must have the worst luck ever. My phone buzzes with a text and I fumble to pull it from my pocket, still dressed in my tux.
Sofia: Everything okay?
My thumbs are too big, and I’m too drunk to hit the right buttons, so I call her.
“Blake?”
“Come over,” I wince at my slur, but spit out my address. “Please, Sofia? Just come over. I want to see you.”
“Are you drunk?” she asks.
“Yeah, but it’s okay. Are you coming?” I say my address again, just in case.
“I’ll come, Blakey,” she says softly.
I PARK BEHIND Blake’s truck and rush into his house. I’m thankful that I don’t have to break the door.
“Blake!” I call his name out, but I don’t hear anything. “Blake!” I shut and lock his door and I hear mumbling. “Blake!” I call out again.
I turn to my left and see him on the couch, still in his tux, with a bottle of whiskey on the floor. I rush over to him and try shaking him awake. I say his name over and over again.
Finally, he opens his eyes and incoherently says what I think is my name.
“Sit up, Blake.” I tug on him and, with all my strength, get him up in a seated position.
“Beautiful. You're so beautiful,” he slurs.
“Great.” I throw my hands up. “Now, you want to be open and honest. Let’s get you in a shower, buddy.”
It takes all I have to practically drag him to the bathroom.Thankfully, there’s a full tub and shower. When I flip on the light, I gasp. Blake’s lip is split and his knuckles are bleeding and bruised.
“Oh, Blakey, what did you do? Stay,” I order him. His eyes are closed, and he’s swaying back and forth. I undo his bow tie, fight with the jacket and shirt. He already has his shoes off. Now, for the pants.
“Blakey, this sucks a lot.”
“Hhhmm, suck me.” He sways again.
“Ha. Not happening tonight,” I scoff at him. I flip on the water to freezing cold and close off the drain. I check his pockets, making sure there’s nothing in there that will be ruined.
“I’m leaving you in your pants because the first time I see you, I want you to be somewhat conscious.” He nods, but he doesn’t have a clue what I’m saying. “Walk over here.” I guide him to the edge of the tub. “Just remember I care about you,” I mumble as I push him into the cold water.
The tub is large, so I don’t crack his head on the side. I submerge him and he comes up sputtering, coughing, and cussing. I turn the water off and open the drain.
“Sofia.” He’s still slurring, but his eyes are open. “Fuck.” He tries to jump from the tub, but he’s still drunk and unbalanced. He slides and lands back on his ass. “Fuck.”
“Stop moving, you asshat!” I yell at him. “I’ll help you out.”
“Why did you do this?”
I help him stand and step out. He puts a lot of his weight on me, but it’s not as bad. “To wake you up.”
“Oh no.” Before I figure out what he’s talking about, he rushes to the toilet and vomits his dinner.
I grab a washcloth while he’s puking, wet it, and put it on the back of his neck. I also grab several towels. The bathroom is saturated, but I will help clean it up later.
“Go away, Sofia.” His head is still over the toilet.
“You called me to come over here. I’m not leaving.” I dry his back and he heaves again. I rub his back some more. “I need to get you some dry clothes. Where are they?”
Blake points over his shoulder. “The laundry room.”
I go to the next room in the direction he pointed and find a basket of flannel pajama pants and a clean t-shirt. I even grab a pair of boxers briefs. When I come back the bathroom, Blake is crawling to the sink. I try not to laugh because it shouldn’t be funny, but seeing this large man on his hands and knees does make me smile.
“Come on, Blakey.” I sit the clothes on the counter and force him to his feet.
“Teeth.” He tries to reach for his toothbrush.
“Here.” I’m able to hand it to him and get him steady enough to put toothpaste on it and he brushes his teeth. While he does that, I throw towels on the tiles to hopefully soak up all the water.
“I’m freezing,” he complains. When I turn to him, he’s lip is bleeding worse.
“Damn,” I mumble. I’m going to have to help him change. Why didn’t I think this through better. “Alright.” I woman-up and walk over to him. “We have to get you out of these pants.”
Blake’s eyes are closed again and I know he isn’t going to last long. I tug on his belt and drop his pants.
“Step,” I order and he lifts one leg. “Step.” He lifts the other one. I toss the pants to the side. “Can you get out of your underwear?”
He nods, but only sways back and forth.
“Damn,” I hiss. I’m going to have to do it. This is not how I pictured this happening. I take a deep breath and jerk them down. I try to look everywhere, but there. However, it’s almost impossible not to glance at it. I only peek before I keep my eyes closed and dry his legs and only his legs. I grab the boxer briefs and get them on him, along with the pajama pants.
“Hey, we did it,” I say excitedly. I’m proud of me. “Now, it’s time for bed. Where is it?”
Blake, with his eyes still closed, points in front of me. I roll my eyes.
“Don’t move.” I go out and notice a guest room across the hall. “You’re sleeping in here tonight.” I turn the covers back.
I throw his arms over my shoulders. He leans against me and I maneuver him to the bed. He falls to his side and instantly passes out. I’m exhausted. I don’t think I’ve ever moved anything so heavy.
I brush his hair back and see that his lip is bleeding still. I rummage through the bathroom and find a small first aid kit. I clean his wounds the best I can and then work on the bathroom. I even pick up the bottle of whiskey in the living room.
I can’t leave him, so I send a quick text to Harmony, letting her know I’m at his place. I should sleep on the couch, but I’m actually concerned about him. I grab a t-shirt from his clean pile and change out of my wet clothes. I slide into the bed next to him and study his face for a moment. Even asleep, he has a scowl. I lightly kiss his forehead and snuggle into the covers,
falling asleep.
I WAKE UP early and Blake is still asleep. He has about three hours before he has to be at practice. I’m not sure if he’ll make it. Very carefully, I untangle my legs from his.
“Don’t shake the bed.” Blake’s voice is gruff as he slowly wakes up.
“Sorry, I was going to let you sleep.”
“Don’t talk loudly.” He opens his eyes and the hazel shade is bright.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “What can I get you?”
“I’d kill for coffee, but I’ll get up in a minute or two.”
“I’ll get it.” My feet hit the floor and I head to the kitchen.
In the bright sunlight, I notice that Blake has a nice place. It’s a small townhouse, but nicely decorated, especially for a guy. I find the k-cups, coffee mugs, and turn on the Keurig. I find eggs and cheese and whip up a quick omelet.
“You didn’t have to make breakfast.” Blake walks into the kitchen, freshly showered, wearing only low hung jeans.
“Figured you were hungry.” I hand him his coffee mug. “I don’t know how you take it.”
“Black.” He sits at the breakfast bar and I place the plate in front of him.
“Gross.” I turn up my nose as he sips the coffee. He shrugs. I make my plate and coffee and sit it next to him. “Are you feeling okay?”
He shrugs again and takes a large bite of the eggs. He inhales the food and the coffee. He gets up and loudly throws everything into the sink. “Just lock the bottom lock when you leave.” Blake doesn’t look at me as he heads towards the laundry room.
“You’re leaving?” I holler down the hall.
“I have practice!” he shouts from the room. “I have to go.”
I jump off the stool and go toward him. “Are we going to talk about last night?”
He comes into the room and looks down at me. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Blakey.” I reach out to grab his hand because I want to know what is going on with him.
“Stop!” he yells so loudly I jump back. “I don’t want to fucking talk.”
I gasp because he screams at me, and I step back even more. Blake’s eyes go wide with shock, and I feel a tear slide down my cheek.
“I...I have to go.” Blake rushes away from me.
“TANNER, IF YOU moan one more time, I swear I will never let you into this room again,” I growl at him.
“Sofia, I can’t help it. You have the hands—”
“Of a God. Yes, you’ve told me. Now, you’re done.” I wash my hands and he rolls off the table and heads out.
I haven’t been in a good mood since this morning. The Angels’ practice is over, and I don’t want to talk to Blake right now, so I’m rushing to get out of here before he comes in. We’re getting ready to head out for some road games, and I need to pack.
When I went to Blake’s house, I wanted to help. Now, I give up. I know he was hungover, but he’s the one who called me to come over. I care about him, but if he is going to treat me like that, then I need to leave him alone. He scared me this morning. He’s never done that before.
I pack up everything from the office that I’ll need for the road and head home without seeing Blake. I leave a voicemail for Harmony to meet me at the steakhouse. I should go home and pack my clothes, but I need to vent off some of this anger and eat a steak.
The hostess seats me right away, and I order a large glass of wine. I’m glad I’m near the window and I look out at the city skyline. I love looking at the city, even though I hate the humidity, it’s still beautiful. I wonder what Blake sees when he looks at the skyline.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Harmony kisses my cheek and sits down. “Oh no, tell me all about it.”
“How did you know?”
“I’m your sister and best friend. Tell me.”
I take two large gulps of the wine and tell her everything that happened from Blake’s phone call until I left the Angels' stadium. I can feel the anger, hurt, and tears as I convey it all. My sister sits there and says nothing as I keep talking. We keep waving the waiter away unless he’s bringing more wine.
“I don’t know what else I can do.” I wipe the tears away.
“Okay, normally, I’m Team Sofia, but I think you need to look at Blake’s point of view right now.”
“Huh? You think Blake was right to yell at me?” I blink in shock.
“Wait. Calm down and listen to me. I said look at his point of view. He was embarrassed in front of his girlfriend’s parents and his father bought his girlfriend for the night. You said he was all beat up and drunk, right?” I nod. “Well, more than likely his dad doesn’t look peachy today either. I bet everything I have that he felt like shit this morning and it wasn’t just because he was hungover either.”
I shake my head. “He yelled at me.”
“He’s pissed off, and I’m sure you were nagging the shit out of him.”
“I wa—” I can’t even finish it because I had been. “I’m trying to help him.”
“I know.” She gives me a sad smile. “Why don’t you let him come to you? Let him cool off a bit and then he’ll come around.”
“And if he doesn't?”
Harmony shrugs. “Technically, you’re not boyfriend and girlfriend, so you don’t need to worry about breaking up. Plus, you have done the best you can. You can’t help everyone, Sofia. I know you want to, but you can’t. Maybe Blake can’t be saved.” Her expression is a bit sad.
I look down at another empty glass of wine. What if Harmony is right? What if Blake can’t be saved?
GRUMPY IS AN understatement. I don’t know what to do with myself. While we were away on road games, I kept to myself, not speaking unless I had to, earbuds nearly always in my ears. I haven’t heard from Sofia, and I’m not surprised in the least.
I scared her.
It was the last thing I wanted to do, yet I did anyway. Inviting her over had been a bad idea. If I had been thinking, I wouldn’t have, because I would’ve thought about how bad the following morning would be for me. Hell, I should have been thinking that morning, but I was too lost in my thoughts. Between the fight with Jack, him paying a hundred grand for a date with Sofia, and his overall behavior, I felt defeated and embarrassed for myself and my mother.
What I’ve been trying to figure out is if this means I have finally turned into him. I know I scared her, and I hate that I did, but is that enough reason for her to walk away? Should I walk away? As far as I know, Sofia already has. Either way, I want to see her, to apologize at least. The guilt is eating me alive and I can barely stand it.
While I cook myself dinner, I call my mother. Maybe she can provide insight.
“Blake, how are you doing? I haven’t heard from you since the banquet and I’ve been worried.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m okay. I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that there was a mistake in the silent auction and turns out he wasn’t the highest bidder.”
Thank you, Art. “Thanks for letting me know. Can I ask you something, Mom?”
“Of course, son.”
I clear my throat. “Be honest, okay? Do you ever worry that I might be like him? I mean, it would make sense if I was because I grew up around it constantly. There had to be a lasting impact and a chance I could turn into him.”
“What’s this about, Blake?” Her avoiding my question doesn’t go unnoticed.
Sighing, I tell her what happened. “Sofia came over after I left your house. I had been drinking, and she got me settled into bed. The following morning, she was being her usual nice self, but when she asked if we were going to talk about it and pushed me, I yelled and scared the hell out of her. We haven’t spoken since.”
Mom is quiet for a few seconds before speaking. “Do you love me?”
My brows pull together in confusion as I turn the burner off and set the pot aside. “Of course I do, Mom.”
“Do you do everything you can to take care of me and help me when
I need you?”
“I try.” I’m not sure I always succeed. She is still living with Jack, after all.
“How a man treats his mother speaks volumes about his character, Blake. You’re a good man. The biggest difference between you and your father is that if you hurt someone, it isn’t intentional. Stop worrying so much and talk to the girl. You’ve already walked away from one girl you loved because of this mess, don’t make the same mistake again. You’re not him and you’re not going to become him. I promise.”
I’m shocked for all of two seconds. “How did you know I was the one who walked away? And I’m not in love with Sofia.”
“I knew because I know my son. Maybe you don’t love her yet, but you care about her and that’s all that matters.”
“Honey, I’m home!” I hear Hector holler from my front door.
“Thanks, Mom. I gotta go. Love you.”
“Love you too, Blake.”
I hang up just as Hector walks into the kitchen. “Just in time for dinner,” he smiles.
“What are you doing here? What if I had company?”
He opens the fridge to grab a drink. “No other cars in the driveway and you’ve been Grumpy which means Sofia must not be around much.” He grabs us both a plate, handing me one. We take turns spooning the pasta and then grabbing a fork before taking a seat at the bar. “So, what’s going on?” His voice is oddly serious for Hector.
Suddenly, I wonder if I can trust Mom’s judgment. Wouldn’t she be biased because I’m her son? She could be telling me what I want to hear and what she wants to believe. Hector is my closest friend. Before I can change my mind, I ask, “You know about my dad, don’t you?” He’s only one who’s never asked me about him, never brings him up, and doesn’t add to the conversation if someone else does.
“If you’re asking if I think he’s abusive to you and your mom, then yeah, I think he is. I’ve heard rumors and I know how to observe. Is that what this is about? Whatever’s going on with you and Sof?”
Blake (Season One: The Ninth Inning #2) Page 9