THE MAN. THE GAME. THE BABY. (A Knight Brothers Novel) (A Bad Boy Sports Romance)

by London Casey

  “He’s vicious,” Tyler said. “Man, he’s bad.”

  “And how’d you get into this mess?” I asked.

  “I don’t even remember,” Tyler said. “Things go good one second and then bad for a month. It’s my life.”

  “Man, you control it. Cut the fucking shit.”

  Tyler leaned forward. “Do you have that gun?”

  “What?”

  “That gun you mentioned before.”

  “Why? You doing yourself in?”

  Tyler grinned. “I sometimes wish I had the nerve. I want to go scare him.”

  “Scare him? You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “No. It’s like a bully, man. You stand up to a bully.”

  “This isn’t grade school, Tyler. You’re dealing with rough guys.”

  “I need to be rough.” He sipped his coffee and nodded. “I need that gun, Roman.”

  “I only bring it when I feel I need it.”

  “I know you do. You’re that type. Probably in the trunk or the glovebox.”

  “Then why’d you bother asking me?”

  Tyler shrugged. “Just keeping you in the loop. You bring me that money?”

  “Yeah. I got your money. It’s in the car. Under the passenger seat. This can’t keep going on, man. I’ve done more than enough for you. I want to fucking hurt you.”

  “You already did,” Tyler said. “I saw those videos of you and Shawn tangled up. That should have been us, Roman. Man…”

  “Stop that, Tyler. You can’t go back in time. What’s now is now. Face it. Fight it. Fuck it.”

  Everyone in the place looked at me. I gave a wave and everyone went back to their lives. Some people had been watching me from the second I walked in. I then spotted a woman stand up and walk toward the table.

  Ah, shit.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Knight?” she asked.

  I looked up at her. She was in nursing scrubs and looked tired as hell. “Hey there. Please call me Roman.”

  Her cheeks turned bright red. “This is so weird for me. I’m sorry. I’m a huge Dragons fan.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. I have a Dragons tattoo on my ankle.”

  She turned and lifted her powder blue pants and sure enough there was a Dragons logo on her ankle.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “I’m sorry to cut in on your meeting,” she said. “But I never…”

  “Do you know who this is?” I asked the stranger as I pointed to Tyler.

  “No.”

  “This is my buddy Tyler. He was the number one wide receiver in the country when we were in college,” I said. “He’s the reason why I’m here today.”

  “I don’t watch college football,” the woman said. “But that’s great.” She looked at Tyler. “Are you on a team?”

  Tyler forced a laugh and stood up. He shook his head at me. “I’ll be outside, Roman.”

  He walked away.

  That didn’t go as I had hoped. But what the hell did I know about favors? What did I care about them? I thought maybe the woman would fucking know who Tyler was and he’d get a little ego boost.

  “I’m sorry,” the woman said.

  I stood up. “Don’t worry about it. He, uh, had some bad luck. That’s all. You’re a nurse?”

  “Yeah. Over at Memorial.”

  “Well, good for you. That’s a commendable job. Maybe if I take a hard enough hit, I’ll see you there.”

  I had already spotted the diamond ring and wedding band on her left hand. Not to mention the little frog stickers on her badge, telling me she probably had a kid at home. She hid her left hand as though she stood a chance with me. It was a sweet gesture, one that almost made me want to take her into the bathroom and give her the best few minutes of her goddamn life.

  Instead, I signed an autograph and took a picture with her.

  That opened the floodgates for everyone else in the damn place to start bothering me. I did my best to smile, nod, let people take pictures of me, but I worked toward the door. I had to just walk out and rush away to my car.

  Tyler stood there, arms folded.

  “Sorry about that,” I said.

  “Yeah, right. Nothing like reminding me of all I fucking lost.”

  “Fuck yourself, Tyler,” I said. “Let me get you your cash, I have to go. I have some family things to take care of.”

  “I already got the cash,” Tyler said. “Thank you.”

  “We’re officially done now,” I said. “No more bullshit. You said you were going to get help a long time ago, Tyler. I’m close to reporting to training camp and getting my shit together.”

  “Funny how far we’ve fallen,” he said. “You’ll be taking snaps, making seven figures again… and I’ll be sitting in a room with other fucked up people, trying to find a way to talk.”

  “But you know what? We’ll both be alive. And you’ll have a story to tell, Tyler. I have to go, man.”

  I got into my car and backed up.

  Tyler just stood there. There was something ominous about it. Something symbolic about me backing away from him.

  Maybe it was my way of really trying to do something different.

  I knew one thing though… this shit with Willow was far from over.

  I was going to have her, for real.

  Slade dropped his smoke and stepped on it. He jammed his hands into his pockets and put his head back against the side of the building.

  “I fucking hate being anywhere near here,” he said.

  We all knew why Slade hated it. Because of the woman he fucking loved but couldn’t have. It wasn’t my place to talk about romance with my two brothers. For all I ever knew, romance was when a woman looked up at me when she was swallowing me down. But it felt like Willow was changing all that.

  “You ready?” Caine asked as he slapped me on the back.

  “No,” I said. “This is bullshit.”

  “I know it is,” he said. “But he’s unconscious. This is a start for us, brother. We can all find a way to move forward. Not apart. Not to avoid things.”

  “Since when did you become so caring?” I asked. “You’re a good hockey fighter.”

  “There’s something poetic about fighting someone on ice,” Caine said. “It’s a symbol for life. Trying to keep your balance and keep focused and keeping punching.”

  “Oh, Christ,” Slade said. “I always said from the second he wanted ice skates that there was something weird about him.”

  Caine held up his left fist. His knuckles were permanently fat and scarred. “You know how many teeth this hand has knocked out?”

  “How many?” Slade asked.

  “Say something about ice skating again and it’s going to be three more.”

  I got between my brothers. “Okay, let’s move. I’ve got things to do. I can’t stand being here.”

  “You’re banging that lawyer, aren’t you?” Slade asked.

  “Maybe I am,” I said.

  “Fuck,” Caine said. “I knew it. I bet you took her down to the pond, huh? Under the moonlight. Got her right against that expensive car of yours.”

  We walked into the hospital and went to the elevators. Caine and Slade were still talking about sex. Debating what positions were best when fucking in a car. Or against a car. They didn’t realize I fucked Willow on the hood of the car.

  The old man had gotten some kind of surgery done on his lungs. It was to help take out as much cancer as possible. If he woke up and recovered it could extend his life by years. At the very least, months. As far as I was concerned, he should have been dead years ago.

  Caine opened the door to the room.

  As we stepped inside I thought about the last time I saw him.

  He accused me of stealing his whiskey, which I had done. He had this power over us. We were all bigger and stronger than him. Me, Caine, and Slade had this connection through physical torture that resulted in us being big and strong. When our muscles hurt, our hearts didn’t. We all believed tha
t size would eventually cure the old man’s need to try and kill us.

  That day, he came at me hard.

  Pounding at me, punch after punch, his fists like rocks. Then he grabbed my arm and put it in the doorway. He slammed the door and tried to break my arm. If that happened, no college football. No scholarship. No record setting career. No money.

  I lost it.

  I stood up to him and punched him in the nose. He flew back and hit the wall. He pointed to me with a shaky finger and said, “You’ll never be anything, Roman. You’re the result of what happens when you drink too much whiskey and fuck the first pussy you see.”

  And then there he was, in the hospital bed. Tubes in his mouth and nose. Tubes hooked up to his arms. Shit on his chest. Machines all around, beeping in their own harmonies.

  Caine and Slade stood at the foot of the bed.

  I went right to him.

  His hair was greasy and thin. His face longer than I remembered. He had a defined jaw, something that passed along to us. He looked weak and almost skeletal. Shit, if you took all the medical stuff off him, he looked dead. The heart monitor said otherwise.

  “Think he can hear us?” Slade asked.

  “I don’t know,” Caine said.

  “Say something,” Slade said. “You wanted us here, Caine.”

  I looked at Caine and nodded.

  “Dad, we’re all here,” Caine said. “Uh… me, Slade, and Roman. We’re here. We won’t be here when you wake up from this shit, but we’re here now.”

  “This is fucking creepy,” Slade said.

  “The first time he hit me,” I said, ready to take this entire hospital to hell with me, “was when I was a baby. I remember it.”

  “You can’t remember shit when you’re a baby,” Caine said.

  “He shook me,” I said. “Screaming at me to shut up. Ma was getting fresh clothes for me. He put me down and backhanded me. I was a fucking baby. I didn’t know any better than to cry, right?”

  “Jesus,” Slade said.

  “I was two,” Caine whispered. “I was crawling around, playing army. I went under the table and bumped the leg. Some of his coffee spilled. I heard him scream fuck and I froze. Then it was this giant hand reaching for me. Back then he seemed so impossibly strong.”

  “The perception of power,” Slade whispered.

  “Yeah,” Caine said. “He lifted me up by my throat and slammed me onto the table. Coffee spilled onto my leg and it burned so bad. But I was afraid to say something. So I had to suck it in.”

  “You asked me to save you that night,” I said.

  “And you did, brother,” Caine said. “You took more hits than any of us. That’s why I want you here for this. This is our comfort and closure.”

  I looked at Caine. “What’s that? He gets a chance to live some more?”

  “He’ll suffer and die from this,” Caine said. “And everyday he’s alive and everyday he’s closer to death he’ll have to face all he’s done.”

  “I have to get out of here,” Slade said. He reached out like he was going to touch the old man’s leg but then he shook his head. “No.”

  Caine grabbed for Slade and Slade turned, throwing a punch. He cracked Caine in the mouth.

  “My first memory? Him standing with one foot on Roman’s back. You, Caine, in the corner, crying. And then him making Ma get on her knees and beg for forgiveness for something she probably didn’t even do. And then he hit her so hard…”

  Slade’s entire jaw shook.

  He turned and ran out of the room.

  “Fuck,” Caine said.

  “Go save him,” I said to Caine. “I’ll be out. This is enough for now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Caine said.

  “Just go get him,” I said. “Before he ends up hurting himself or someone.”

  I was then left alone with the old man.

  Slowly, my eyes scanned all the medical equipment. Which one of these tubes or wires was the one actually keeping him alive? Or was it all of it? What if I just unplugged everything? I knew there had to be sensors on the machines that would beep if they were disabled.

  I gripped the railing of the bed and leaned over.

  “I hate you,” I said. “I fucking hate everything about you. I know what you did to her. You didn’t even have the guts to actually do it yourself. You just fucked with her head. You beat her until she knew nothing but fear. Death was her only escape. You didn’t put the key in the ignition. You didn’t drive her down to the rail crossing. You didn’t make her sit there with the train whistle blaring, warning her to get off the tracks.”

  I felt a twisting in my heart.

  Shit, I felt like I was going to cry.

  “But you put her there,” I said through gritted teeth. “She felt her only choice was to leave us. To leave her three boys behind. To miss out on our lives. To miss out on the fights, cuts, scars. To miss out on me getting that call when I was drafted. When Caine got to play in Russia, Germany, and finally getting signed in the States. To miss out on the free and wild heart of Slade. His gentle love for freedom and everything that gave him freedom. You took that.”

  I started to shake the bed.

  The old man’s lifeless body rocked back and forth.

  “Wake the fuck up and face me,” I said. “Right now. Wake the fuck up and face me, you fucking asshole. Open your eyes and look at me. You’ll never get away with it. You’ll suffer for it. Just like we have for our entire lives.”

  The wheels on the bed were locked but I was forcing them to move left to right. They squeaked on the floor. I pushed so hard, the bed hit a machine and it turned. The oxygen hooked up to the old man’s nose fell out. His head slumped to the right.

  I looked at the heart monitor.

  His heart was still beating.

  I shook the bed again.

  My lips were moving but I couldn’t even find words. The rage was nothing I’d ever felt before in my life.

  I pictured my mother in a sundress, standing in the yard on her toes, hanging up clothes. Something so small like that… the fact that she couldn’t reach the clothesline… he wouldn’t even lower it a few inches for her. What kind of man does that?

  That’s when I started to lift the bed. I had full intention of dumping the old man out of the bed. Then I wanted to stomp on him and finish off what the cancer had started.

  I had the bed tilted when a hand touched my shoulder.

  “Sir…”

  I dropped the bed and turned, ready to unleash hell.

  It was a nurse. A woman.

  I would never touch a woman without the intention of pleasure.

  “Oh, my. You’re Roman…”

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “This is my father.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I should have guessed. The last name…”

  “Can I be alone with him?”

  “You were trying to tip the bed over.”

  “So?”

  The nurse stepped back.

  I reached for her arm. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just leaving.”

  I walked by her and she called out, “I’m a big fan of yours.”

  “Don’t be,” I said. “I’m not a good person.”

  “But you’re a great football player.”

  I looked over my shoulder. At the nurse. At the old man.

  “You’re a great nurse,” I said and left the room.

  That was true. Because if she knew who the old man really was she would probably still take care of him. That made her better than me in life.

  Slade had a cigarette between his lips and Caine held his shoulders.

  They couldn’t calm each other down. Not without their alpha big brother to knock their heads together.

  I touched my pocket and felt for my phone.

  Why the fuck hadn’t Willow called me back yet?

  The motorcycle went one way and the truck went another.

 
; The Knight brothers were split up again.

  I leaned against the hood of my car and watched the sun set. The colors were a clash of orange and red, followed by a spill of pink. But then it was all gone. I knew the bullshit stuff that Slade believed in with the freedom of the road and the horizon and how days came and went. To me, watching that sun go down and watching how fast the colors came and went… it just proved that nothing was meant to be forever. Shit came. Shit went. And we were all just stuck in the middle of it trying to make sense.

  I got back into my car and grabbed my phone.

  Still nothing from Willow.

  So I decided to try a different tactic.

  I called her office and got through to her assistant. Leslie?

  “This is Leslie,” she said and I nodded.

  “Leslie. Hi. This is Roman.”

  I heard her gasp. “Roman. Oh. Wow. Um. Thank you for that autograph. My father…”

  “I’ll make sure you get tickets too,” I said. “But hey, I need a favor.”

  “Sure.”

  “Is Willow there?”

  “No. She left a long time ago. She wasn’t feeling good.”

  “Oh.”

  “But she’s better now. I talked to her a short while ago.”

  “Do you know where she is now? I’ve been waiting to talk to her.”

  “Um… she’s out with someone right now.”

  “Girls night?”

  “No. A date.”

  “A date.”

  “Um…”

  “A date,” I said. “Got ya. That’s probably why she’s not answering. I’ll try again later.”

  “Hey, Roman. Are you… okay?”

  “Fine,” I said with a big grin. “Just fucking fine.”

  I ended the call.

  I turned on the car. The engine was quiet, sleek, beautiful. Its black color would blend into the night, like a silent predator ready to attack.

  Just like me.

  Stay out of trouble?

  Fuck that.