by London Casey
Where did it end with this guy?
“Look, Willow, you just have to keep him out of trouble,” Ted said. “In that little shit town there’s not much he could do. But when he comes back here, he’s going to be a ball of rage.”
“Not unless I prevent it,” I said. I stood up. “I’ll go to whatever town it is. I’ll wait for him. Make it known I’m there, watching. You want me to be a distraction for him. So maybe if I show up, it’ll snap him a little.”
“It won’t,” Ted said. “But it’s worth a shot. At least keep him from drinking and driving. I can have someone pick up his car or your car any time, okay? I’ve been talking with his agent. The league is not backing down. They’re considering some serious action against him.”
“Roman is the only football player still working right now,” I said. “That’s bullshit. Because of a bar fight?”
“It goes beyond a bar fight,” Ted said.
“I don’t care. All these other athletes, where are they? They’re vacationing. Roman set up goddamn garbage cans to practice the throw from his last game. And when one of those throws fell short, you know what he did?”
“What?”
“He went right into the weight room and lifted weights. To get stronger. To get better.”
Ted folded his arms. “Well, Willow, you look ready to go to war for Roman. Funny how earlier you wanted to quit.”
Ted smirked as though he knew everything.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing right now,” I said.
“Yes you do,” Ted said. “Follow your gut. Do exactly what you said you were going to do.”
“Quit?” I asked with a grin.
“No. Go find Roman. Make sure he knows you’re serious about keeping his ass out of trouble.”
“Something tells me that’s going to get my ass in trouble,” I said.
“Probably.”
Or I could just use my ass to my benefit…
(Roman)
We ended up out back at Ronnie’s, a small pizza shop in town. It was after dark finally and we were trying to lay low. Put it this way - there were a handful of cops that wanted to destroy us. There were even more people that wanted to come after us. And of course Slade’s personal situation.
Plus, I had no interest in meeting anyone. I didn’t need the bullshit chit-chat. I didn’t need to hear about my career, my stats, my build, what the Dragons were going to do next year. And I didn’t need to hear the shit from those who didn’t like Dragons.
If I actually stepped into Ronnie’s, I fully expected a fight to break out in about two minutes flat.
Ronnie came out of the back of the pizza shop with a red stained white apron and a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He held the pizza box out for Caine to take.
“Ten,” Ronnie said, ash hitting the pizza box.
“I got it,” I said. I handed Ronnie a twenty. “Keep the change.”
“It’s going to take more than ten bucks to keep my mouth shut,” Ronnie said. He had aged as gracefully as a chain smoking alcoholic would. He sucked on the cigarette like a marathon runner finishing a race and going for a water bottle.
“Don’t fuck with us,” Slade said.
“You pricks stole from me,” Ronnie said. “You broke my front window.”
“We were kids,” Caine said.
“You were bastards. You still are.”
“Here’s another twenty,” I said. “Keep your mouth shut.”
“The only reason I will is because of your old man,” Ronnie said. “I know why you’re here. Just don’t get into trouble.”
“Do you still put the little circle of sauce on the pizza when it’s done?” Caine asked.
“Find out for yourself,” Ronnie said.
He flicked his cigarette to the ground and went back into the pizza place.
I watched the door shut. “Has he always been that much of a dick?”
“Just to us,” Slade said.
“Yeah, he does the sauce thing,” Caine said.
“Wonderful,” I said. “Let’s go to the house and devour this thing. I’m fucking starving.”
We split up, got to our vehicles, and left Ronnie’s. It was a five minute drive, but that was a long damn five minutes. I expected at any time for flashing lights to appear. Some asshole from years back who was a cop now would give anything to find the three Knight brothers back in town.
Lucky for us, we made it to the house without any issues.
Caine had the pizza and when he got to the first step, I whistled.
“I’m not going in there,” I said.
“Fuck you,” Caine said.
“He’s not here,” Slade said. “He’s in the hospital.”
“Wasting time and money there?”
“They’re just trying to keep him comfortable for now,” Caine said. “It could be weeks. Months. Knowing him… probably years.”
“Then why am I here?” I asked.
Slade walked by me and followed Caine.
I hated the fucking house. The silhouette of it against the night made it a towering figure of pain. Every board and nail, every window and every pillar on the porch, they all had stories to tell. I wanted the place to burn.
Stepping into the house was hard to do.
Caine and Slade were already in the kitchen, opening the cabinet to get plates and drinks. Each step I took I looked around and had another memory.
There’s the corner I hid in, behind the same plant that’s there. Except the plant is dead now. He would slap the belt against the plant to hit me. The leaves would cut into my skin.
There’s the corner where I held Slade, covering him. Then the old man would lift up my shirt, exposing my boney back, and just go to town on me. Slade would scream with each crack of the belt, but I kept him safe.
The doorway into the kitchen still had the markings where we measured ourselves. I touched the notches in the wood and felt the anger building. It swelled inside me like a flared up sickness.
“Come on,” Caine said. “Have a slice. We have to talk.”
I pulled out a chair. Its metal legs still squeaked the same on the cheap flooring.
I sat down and the chair creaked.
The pizza tasted the same as it did years ago.
“He’s going to die,” Slade said.
“We’re all going to die,” I replied.
“I don’t want this to be so much about him,” Caine said. “It’s more about us. He’s got very little assets other than this house. I want us all to be on the same page with everything. Right down to going to see him.”
“I’m not going to see him,” I said. “Fuck that. Fuck you for bringing it up.”
“Why?” Caine asked.
“Goddammit, Roman. Let him see how good we are without him. Let him see how happy we are.”
“Why?” I asked. “So he could pass away with the lasting image of his three sons together? Fuck him.”
“I feel the same way,” Slade said. “But Caine is right. We need to see him. We need to see this out. It might be our only chance to say goodbye.”
“Then keep me updated on his condition,” I said. “I’ll make my own decision.”
“So what’s with you fighting fans?” Caine asked.
“Jesus Christ,” I said. “Are you seriously going to grill me?”
“I’m just trying to talk to my brother.”
“Well, some asshole tried to start with me. I finished it. Sadly, when you’re the star quarterback, it gets blown out of proportion.”
“And you pissing on that camera?” Slade asked.
“I never liked getting my picture taken,” I said with a grin.
Caine laughed. “Hey, remember that one Christmas… ah, shit, Slade, you were so young. Roman refused to get his picture taken in front of the tree. Ma hounded the old man to get a camera with a timer, right? Oh, man, we must have taken the picture ten times because Roman was being such a shit. And the old man wouldn’t hit him because it was Christmas mo
rning and Ma said not to. You played him that morning, Roman.”
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “But I made up for it. I paid my dues.”
“We all did,” Slade said.
There were two slices left. Caine and Slade each grabbed for one.
I watched it and nodded.
Then I stood up and grabbed their wrists. “Let me explain something to you both. What you just did there? That’s what I’ve given you. You don’t understand how many nights he’d fucking ruin dinner. Or forget to make dinner. But I always made sure my two brothers were okay. If there was one plate of food for the three of us, you two would split it. I’m not telling you this because I want it given back. But I want you to know I fucking care about you two assholes. That’s why I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to talk about Ma. I don’t want to remember the screams, the blood, the fighting. And I sure as hell don’t want to remember the fucking silence when she… when she was gone.”
I let my grip go and walked away.
I stood at the kitchen sink and stared out the backyard. The moon left a little light shining. I could still see myself back there, setting up old rusted barrels so I had targets to throw my football into.
“Have the last fucking slice,” Caine said and stuck his hand almost in my face.
“Fuck off, Caine. That wasn’t the point.”
“I never said it was. We have a history here, Roman. Fighting that and losing yourself is never a good thing.”
I looked at Caine. “I never said I was fighting anything. I made a goddamn name for myself. That’s who I am.”
“Some asshole athlete that’s a tabloid machine?”
“Comes with the territory.”
“And what are you going to do when something really bad happens?”
“Get the fucking pizza out of my face or else something really bad is going happen.”
Caine curled his lip. I used to tell him when he did that, his scar looked like a vagina curling open. Man, that fucking pissed him off. Me and Slade would call him pussy lip and he’d go bat shit crazy.
Caine lifted the slice up enough that it touched my chin.
Now it was my turn to go bat shit crazy on him.
I grabbed the pizza and I slammed it against his face. I drove Caine back to the table and put him on it. I came down with a right and clocked him in the mouth.
“Holy fuck!” Slade yelled.
He jumped over the table at me, grabbed my arm before I could punch Caine again. I tried to shake him off, but that gave Caine time to get back up. He lunged forward, hitting his shoulder into my gut. All three of us ended up at the sink. Caine raked my eyes and tried to put my head in the sink. Slade yelled and punched me in the stomach, then punched Caine.
Both me and Caine fell to our knees.
My goddamn little bro had a fucking wicked swing.
I looked at Caine. Pizza sauce covered his face.
“You done, pussy lip?” I asked.
Caine slapped me across the face. Then he threw a right and punched me.
“That’s it!” Slade yelled. “I’m going to get a gun.”
He fled the kitchen in a hurry, leaving me holding Caine’s shirt as he held mine. We were locked up that way, both looking and waiting to see what Slade was actually going to do.
“He has a gun?” Caine asked.
“He rides outlaw,” I said. “I’m sure he does. Shit, I have a gun.” I looked at Caine. “Do you have a gun?”
“Yeah, I have a fucking gun,” Caine said. “Fucking asshole.”
Caine shook me.
I shook him back.
We then started to rip at each other’s shirts, clonking our heads together, like two rabid animals ready to fight but nobody actually starting the fight.
“You don’t get it,” Caine said.
“No, brother, you don’t. This isn’t going to happen. We’re not going to be a happy family.”
“I never said that,” Caine said. He lifted his fist holding my shirt and hit my mouth.
I offered a quick punch back and said, “Then leave me the fuck alone.”
“I can’t. You’re my brother.”
“You don’t get what he did. To us.”
“I was there.” Caine got me good. I tasted blood. “I felt it.”
Rage washed over me worse than ever.
I sensed Slade behind me. I saw the gun in his hand.
Before I could stop myself, I let something off my chest.
“He fucking killed our mother!”
That got silence from everyone.
Slade slowly crouched. He put the gun on the floor. He put a hand to each of our shoulders.
“He killed her,” I said. “I watched it.”
“Ma killed herself, Roman,” Slade said. “We all know that.”
“No. He did it. He didn’t put her in the car. He didn’t take her down to the tracks. But he did it.”
I lowered my head.
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so defeated. Sadly, it was probably right there in that house.
I felt Caine’s head touch mine. Then Slade touched ours. We were huddled up, a giant mess of emotions, testosterone, and pizza.
“You smell like grease,” I said to Caine.
“I want to shoot you,” Caine said.
“Not yet,” Slade said. “Roman has business.”
“I do?” I asked.
My baby brother grinned. “There’s a woman outside looking for you.”
“Shit, brother, are you going at that?”
I looked at Slade and he had a shit eating grin on his face. His eyes were big and hopeful, as though he’d never seen a naked woman before.
“What’s it matter to you?” I asked.
“She looks too normal,” Caine said. “But in a pretty way though. I figured you to be the kind to go after strippers or expensive pussy. You could afford it.”
“Or is this someone to take care of you,” Slade said. “An assistant or some shit. But that’s just too tempting.”
I watched them talk as they looked out the front window of the house. I was still a little shocked to see Willow waiting outside. This house was a place I hide from the world. It was my pain and shame and for some reason it really bothered me that Willow was there.
It made me feel weak and I hated feeling weak.
“Maybe she cut his toe nails,” Slade said. “Topless.”
“Or just swallows his cock when told,” Caine said.
I grabbed Caine and spun him around. I wanted to hit him again. I also wanted to throw him through the front window.
“Both of you,” I said, “just shut the fuck up.”
“Who is she?” Slade asked.
“My fucking lawyer,” I said.
“Ah, shit,” Caine said. “Are you in some kind of trouble, brother?”
“Fuck that,” Slade said. “Is she single? She can give me some legal advice while riding my face. Women love the way my beard tickles their pink pussy.”
“Fucking hit him,” I said to Caine. “And then clean up your face. You still have sauce on it. I’m leaving. This has been a complete waste of my fucking time. Call me when the old man takes a turn for the worse.”
I left the house and ran toward Willow.
My urges ran rampant and when I got close enough I grabbed her by the waist. I teetered between need and anger. I quickly put her against her car. The desire to kiss her overtook me.
I fought it off though.
I never fought it off. I always went for what I wanted when I wanted it.
“Roman,” Willow whispered.
“What the hell are you doing here? How? Why?”
“Ted…”
“Fucking Ted,” I growled. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I have to. You’re paying me, right?”
She smiled.
She was pretty. Dangerously pretty.
I knew Caine and Slade were watching me. Not that I gave a shit but I didn’t want to be a
t the house anymore. I didn’t want my past and present colliding. Or my future.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “Follow me.”
“Wait,” Willow said. “Your face.”
Willow touched where I had taken punches.
“That’s nothing,” I said. I grabbed her hand and took it away from my face. But I didn’t let her hand go right away. I held it. I squeezed it. Shit, things were burning between me and her. “Just me and my brothers talking.”
“Ted said your father is sick,” Willow said.
“Don’t talk about him. Ever. Follow me right now or stay here with my brothers.”
I broke away from Willow and hurried to my car.
I sat behind the wheel, gripping my hands tight. I tried to take a few breaths to calm myself. But when I looked down, I saw my dick pressing against my jeans.
I was screwed… and Willow was about to get fucked.
(Willow)
I followed him.
What choice did I really have?
I had taken the time to drive up from the city to the country to track Roman down, with no idea what I was going to find. I found him at his childhood home, storming at me, grabbing me, demanding we leave. Whatever had happened to him in that house was bad and it played a big part into who he was now.
That was pretty damn obvious.
But he wasn’t in trouble.
Bloody, yes. But not in trouble.
We were on a back road, driving in the pitch black night. There were no streetlights where we were, but we had the moon high above us. I tried to keep on Roman’s ass but his sports car had more power than my car. I may have been well off as a lawyer but any real luxury went right back to my remaining student loans.
I thought we were going to end up back in the city but then Roman pulled off the road. He literally just cut into what looked like a field. As I turned, I started to panic, feeling totally claustrophobic and terrified I was going to get stuck and never find my way out. There was a path though. A very faint path. It would have been much easier to navigate if I had a truck or something.
We kept going and then out of nowhere a body of water appeared. A lake or pond or something. The moonlight bounced off it like a perfectly round white light sitting on the ground. That’s when Roman stopped.
I got out of my car and watched as he popped the trunk of his car. He took out a bottle and a bag. He shut the trunk. He put the bag on the trunk.