Breaking Elle

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Breaking Elle Page 34

by Antoinette Candela


  “I don’t know,” I reply. I know I have to come back for Momma and my sister, but I need Elle. I can’t think about that right now.

  “And what about football? How’s your knee?” He asks as he slips behind his desk, taking a seat in his plush leather chair.

  “Just met with Doc, and he said I’m a go. I can try out again. I shouldn’t have any problems,” I say confidently, anxious to get on the field and play.

  “Good, because I got something for ya,’” he says, searching on his desk under a pile of papers. He throws a packet at me. “Check this out. The NFL put this new program together. Regional Combines that started in 2012 to give guys like you a chance to prove themselves. I think you would get signed either way, but this gives you an option to do it on your own. Tryouts run late January through early April with a small registration fee. So you got some time to train and get that knee in shape. I’m telling you there’s going to be a lot of competition out there, but I always had confidence in you. Shit, you gave me four championships with those legs. The only thing you have to worry about is that hard head.” He chuckles.

  I flip through the information and look up at Coach; you couldn’t wipe the smile off my face even if you tried. “I’m going to do this, and I’m gonna do it on my own. No agents, just me, my two legs, and my skills. This has been my dream and my momma’s dream. I’m gonna make it happen. I’m gonna make her proud.” Coach knows how much this means to Momma, and he knows how much it means to me.

  I feel lucky tonight and decide to head out with Tommy to celebrate. JuJu wants to stay home with Momma, which is good because it gives Tommy and me a chance to talk. I pick Tommy up at the house, telling Juju and Momma that we’re going to do something low-key. There’s nothing low-key when Tommy and I get together, ever. Trouble always finds us. I may have been the football hero in college, but people can be jealous of your success.

  “So, have you heard anything lately from you know who?” Tommy asks, looking out onto the road, taking the ramp onto the highway.

  “No, not a peep and that’s what scares me. He’s not someone who likes to keep quiet for this long,” I reply, tapping the side of the door.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, man,” he says, taking his eyes off the road to look at me. “You knew what you were getting your ass into when you called him.”

  “Yeah.” I stare out the windshield, watching the storm clouds pass over the Texas sky. “Don’t remind me.”

  We end up returning to The Lone Star to pick up Juju’s driver’s license that someone found in the bathroom stall the night she got drunk. Instead of heading straight out, we decide to have a beer at the bar and figure out where we want to go.

  “What’s up with your pops?” Tommy asks, grabbing his beer from the bar.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him. I’m sure he’s fine. Probably has someone taking care of him,” I reply, staring at the bottles lined up at the back of the bar, wondering what his latest elixir of choice is. No matter what, he has no problem finding a woman to take care of him. It works for a little while. Then they discover his close relationship with alcohol, and he ends up kicked to the curb.

  “You gonna call him?” Tommy asks as he takes a pull of his beer.

  “Not sure. If he’s in trouble, he calls me. If I call him, he won’t get off my back to give him money.” I frown at the last memory of my dad staggering out of a bar after causing a fight. I happened to be there with some friends, and I tried to avoid him. But not Pops. When he sees me, he acts like a proud papa, but I know and he knows he has nothing to do with my football career in college or anything else. Just bad memories. I’m sure he just saw the dollar signs I would get with my NFL contract. When that slipped through my fingers, he faded into the woodwork like he did when Momma didn’t have any money for him.

  “Old habits die hard with your pops.” He smirks, finishing off the rest of his beer.

  “Yeah, I think I got some of that, too.” I smile weakly, staring out into the crowded bar. I chuckle thinking about the last time I was here. Campbell’s boyfriend out in the parking lot dressed to impress, trying to defend his girlfriend’s honor. I remember what could have happened if he hadn’t shown up. I shake my head. Nothing would have happened. Nothing. I’m different now. At least I think I am.

  “Tell me about this girl of yours back in Boston? You haven’t said much about her since you been here.” Tommy leans his back up against the bar.

  Shit, is Tommy psychic? I flick my eyes up at him ready to say something, but he starts waving down someone in the crowd.

  “Hold that thought man, I’ll be right back. I see someone that owes me some cash.” He yells over the noise in the bar.

  I nod my head as he ducks through the crowd to the other side of the room. Turning to the bar, I take a drink of my beer. I’m starting to wish I hadn’t come out here again. It’s too risky. I was lucky that only Campbell saw me the other night, and who knows about her boyfriend? I’d be kind of pissed if I caught my girl with another man. I clench my fist just thinking about Elle and if that happened with her. I rattle the ugly thought from my mind and focus on the baseball highlights streaming across the TV over the bar.

  “So what ‘bout them Red Sox?” I turn my head slightly to the guy next to me as he orders a beer. I notice his tattooed arm and nonchalantly glance at his profile. He’s the guy from the other night. I return my attention back to the TV, but now I have my guard up. This is too coincidental. I take another drink of my beer and wait a minute before I answer.

  “Don’t follow them much myself. Football is my sport of choice,” I reply. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I eye him cautiously. This dude is definitely fishing for something.

  “Just making conversation,” he answers, taking a long swig of beer. He looks nervous and sweat beads form on his forehead as he scans the crowd. I’m not an idiot, and I’m not afraid either. I’ve never been afraid of anything or anyone. Texas may be big, but some of the people here are bigger. They have eyes and ears everywhere, and you just have to be careful. Someone is always casting a net to reel you in and catch you. This dude is obviously working for someone. At least they could have sent out someone more experienced to do the job. This guy has rookie written all over his shiny forehead.

  I continue to face the bar, watching him through the mirror for a few minutes to see what he’s going to do. Since he’s not getting any response from me, he slowly straightens up and shoulders his way through the crowd to the other side of the room. I’m not stupid. This guy isn’t alone, and I’m pissed that Tommy ended up being with me for this because there is a fucking good chance of something happening tonight. I don’t know when and where, but it’s going to happen.

  Cane and Tyler left right after catching Tyler and me on the couch doing essentially nothing. From the look on Cane and Jace’s face, they weren’t buying it and at this point, I don’t care. I’m just fed up with it all. Tyler didn’t apologize since he said it didn’t mean anything, just friends he said, and for some reason his words stung. It seems like the timing in my life is off when it comes to my love life. I’m always finding myself in these awkward situations created by others. I wish I could be alone.

  “I knew it!” My brother huffs indignantly.

  “What?” Startled, I glance across the table at my brother who’s sitting in the living room

  “I knew there was something up with Reed,” he pauses, “or should I say Landon?” He shoots me a cocky stare. “I can’t believe I missed it the first time. As soon as I heard the name Landon Hunter, I knew. He’s probably the best wide receiver in Texas A&M history to date. Teams were jumping all over him until that knee injury.” He shakes his head incredulously and stares at me, waiting for some type of reaction.

  I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe Tyler told him. Why would he go and tell my brother about this? I can’t remember the last time Tyler did anything like this. He’s always been my confidant, the one pers
on I can trust with anything. I glare at him, wanting to grab the collar of his perfectly ironed t-shirt and shove it in his mouth to shut him up. I’m so tired of people questioning Reed and his motives. Maybe that’s partially my fault, that Tyler and Jace treat me like a porcelain doll.

  “What’s up with you and Mr. Tyler Hayes on the couch earlier anyway? I didn’t want to put you on the spot in front of Cane about what was going on when we walked in.” He tilts his head. “I guess Cane was right about Tyler wanting something more with you. I could tell too, but damn Elle, this love triangle shit is getting complicated. Or maybe it’s a square since you got three guys falling in love with you,” he says.

  That hits a little too close to the truth. Holding my brother’s mocking gaze, I push back on the chair hard enough that it topples over, and glare at him. “It’s none of your business, Jace.” I fume. I angrily pick up the chair and grab my cell phone, not concerned about what they saw but pissed at Tyler for telling Jace about Reed. I need to know why the hell he would say anything to Jace. Especially Jace.

  Elle: Why’d you tell Jace about Reed?

  Tyler: I haven’t talked to Jace. Why what’s up?

  Elle: Nothing. Call u later.

  Tyler: K.

  Closing up the phone, I throw it on the counter and glare at my brother. I want to slap the smirk off his face. I feel awful for doubting Tyler and his allegiance to me. He’s still the only one who has proven over and over again that he’ll never hurt me.

  “So, you’re forgiving him for lying to you?” he says, crossing his arms across his massive chest.

  I’m listening, but I hear nothing. I turn, staring out the kitchen window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. I wasn’t going to stand here anymore and take this. All I want to do is leave. I decide I need to take a run to get away from everyone. He didn’t lie to me. It’s not lying if I don’t ask him. Is your name really Reed? Are you who you say you are? Do you have multiple aliases? Really?

  “Why does it matter to everyone?” I mumble, turning away from the kitchen window to face him.

  “Oh shit, Elle. You sound like Mom now,” he says, sliding his hands down his thighs before he gets up from the couch and enters the kitchen.

  “I’m not Mom!” I try to keep my voice calm, but I can’t. Am I being like Mom and I’m just in denial?

  “So, where has he been? He hasn’t been around,” he says, pinning his questioning eyes on me.

  “Again, really none of your business. But he’s in Texas visiting his family.”

  “Ohh… Hmm.” He chuckles. “Is that what he told you?”

  “That’s more than you need to know. I don’t need this shit from you.” I frown looking at him long and hard, wondering how the hell he knows this. “How did you find out anyway? Who told you?”

  “You did.” He scratches his forehead not able to meet my gaze. “The other night when Tyler was over. I overhead you guys arguing, and I heard that name and that’s all she wrote. I didn’t need anything else. I knew from day one that Re... I mean Landon... Fuck whatever he goes by these days... looked familiar,” he answers, looking up at me and he sees the shock and pain on my face. His eyes immediately soften. Regret devours him for saying it, but the damage has already been inflicted.

  Of course. The fucking human sports encyclopedia knows everything.

  “Listen, Elle, I’m not trying to be a dick. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.” He takes a step forward and then hesitates.

  “I find that hard to believe by the way you started this conversation,” I reply, staring back out the window listening to the incessant raindrops. “I can handle this on my own. I don’t need any interference from you or anybody else.” I pause. “We need to focus on Mom and not my love life right now.” I argue, searching for my backpack. Where the hell did I leave it? I ‘m really starting to lose my mind. “Don’t you have somewhere to go?” I accuse impatiently.

  “No, no plans right now.” He steps towards me unsure of what to do. His arms go limp at his sides, watching me step away from him.

  “I want to be alone, so if you’re staying, I’m leaving.” Clearly annoyed, I move towards the door.

  “Where are you going? It’s raining, and it’s dark.” He creases his forehead in concern. “It’s late.”

  “I don’t care. A little water isn’t going to hurt me, and the dark has never scared me. This shit is hurting and scaring me.” I motion the space between us. I give up looking for my backpack, grab my iPod and cell, and glance at him one last time before I shove open the door. I am thankful for the warm summer that caresses and cools my skin and melts my fear and anger away momentarily. Running holds more meaning to me now. Not just the physical action, but running from all the doubt, pain, and lies. I blast my iPod and head straight to the track, the only place that I can think of that I feel the safest now that Reed’s not here.

  The little dude left without a trace. Gone. I should have kept a close eye on him, but what’s done is done. I’m not going to stress the inevitable anymore. I kind of want to get it over with, walk my ass to wherever so I can just turn myself in, and pay the consequence for not keeping my end of the bargain. Only problem is I don’t have a clue where to go, and I don’t know where or when it’s going to happen. All I have is that phone call from a month ago, and since then, I’ve heard nothing and seen nothing. I need to be solo and having Tommy right here with me puts him at risk, and I can’t have that. He can’t be seen with me. He needs to be here for Juju and Momma. If something happens to me, he is all they have.

  Then there’s Elle. God, I fucking miss her. One thing has become crystal fucking clear. I’m not good enough for her. I need to protect her from me. I knew that from day one, but I couldn’t stay away from her and that was unbelievably fucking selfish of me. I had to be with her no matter what; there was something drawing me to her from the moment I saw her in the bar that first time. What the hell am I going to tell her when I get back? I can’t even think about what this is going to do to her. One of the reasons why I haven’t told her is so she didn’t have to worry. Who says that they can’t find me in Boston and then she gets caught in the middle? I can’t put her at risk either with my shit. It’s taking over every damn waking minute of my life.

  “Yo, what’s with that look?” Tommy comes back shoving a large wad of cash in his faded blue jeans, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Nothin’ man. Nothing.” I mutter, taking a long pull of my beer. “So, who owed you? That looks like a month’s worth of pay in your pocket.” I laugh, pushing my exchange with the tattooed ranch hand to the back of my mind. Who knows if he’s still lurking around, and if he is, he’s small enough that I can take him if I have to.

  “Ahh... you remember Troy?” he says, stepping to the bar. I grin, nodding my head as Tommy starts telling me his story. “We had us a poker game about a week ago and well... ya know how poker is my bread and butter?” He grins patting the pocket of his jeans. “And, yep, this is about a month’s worth of pay. He should know better than to sit at the table with me.”

  “I’m glad one of us is lucky.” I laugh at my friend, thankful that he’s not deep in shit like I am with money. I wish it were only a month’s worth of pay that I owe to people. “You want to have one more before we head out?” I ask, already waving down the bartender.

  “I’m good. I’m driving tonight, so you can go ahead and drink.” He pauses and rests his elbows on the bar. “So, you met with Doc today, right?”

  “Yeah,” I reply nonchalantly, grabbing the beer the bartender puts in front of me. I take a long drink. I fight back a smile knowing that I can try out and maybe play again.

  “And?” He looks over at me. “Good news?” I don’t respond right away, keeping him in suspense. “Come on, man! Stop holding out on me like this!” He punches my arm, hard. “What did he say?”

  “Damn! All right, all right!” I rub my arm, turning to him with my best poker face, trying to play it off like I go
t bad news, but I can’t fight the shit-eating grin anymore. “Yeah, man. I’m good to go! Doc said my knee is good as new as long as I keep on working out. Dude, I’m gonna play!” I breathe. Tommy is the first one to find out the great news. I finish off my beer and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m finally gonna play,” I say and the realization hits me right when I say those words. I’m gonna play.

  “No, shit!” He pipes, slapping the bar with his hand. “We need to celebrate!” He pulls the large wad of money out of his pocket and slams a couple hundred dollar bills on the bar. “Line up some shots, bartender. My boy here is gonna be playing football!”

  Too many drinks later, Tommy is helping me to his truck. All I remember are the shots of whiskey lined up on the bar, everyone patting me on the back, shaking my hand, and offering more drinks that I had to decline. My cover was blown. Tommy had to tell everyone, like the fucking president or the queen was in town. I’m too drunk to stop him. To tell the truth, I don’t give a shit anymore. Yeah, that’s probably the alcohol talking, but whatever. More than one lady approached me with their offers of some of their own celebrating, which I happily turned down, thinking of Elle. Then there was a chick wearing something that looked like a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader outfit. Once Tommy saw me hitting on her, he knew I was done and was smart enough to pull me away. My night was over. I needed to sleep off this hangover.

  “Dude, you need to lose some weight.” Tommy laughs as he leans me up against his truck to unlock the door. The humid Texas air blows over my sweaty skin. The collar of my shirt is strangling me, and as I pull at it, I try to catch my breath from consuming all of the alcohol and having been cooped up in the crowded bar for so long.

  “Yeah,” I mumble. I still have some of my faculties left and scan the empty parking lot for that little shit at the bar. Nobody. Nothing. Good. Tommy pushes me into the front seat of his truck and mumbles for me to put my seatbelt on. It takes me a good minute to get it, and then I throw my head back on the seat and close my eyes to stop my head from spinning. Tommy hops in, slams the door, and guns the engine of his black Toyota 4X4 and we head out.

 

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