He sounds almost childlike in his confession. He knows I generally don’t keep things from him, but in the case of my stalker I did. He and Austin are both still upset about that little fact. I nod, accepting his confession. To my surprise I am not angry. Instead his admission brings a smile to my heart. If he is looking out for me, J is obviously feeling better.
“Well since I have no modicum of privacy, let’s have it. What did you two think?”
I try to convey some measure of annoyance and anger, but I fail miserably. He gives me the cocky eyebrow raise and a smile, breaking my paper-thin resolve. My smile comes naturally. God, I missed him.
He motions me over towards him. I set the files on the table and pull my chair to his bedside. The metal screeches across the floor and I see the pain flash in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, J. Shit.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose in an effort to stave off the impending pain. “It’s fine. The loud noises just exacerbate the ever-present headache.”
I am the world’s biggest jerk. All I had to do was quietly move a chair and I couldn’t manage that.
“Let’s just talk about this later, J. Take your pain meds and get some sleep.”
Running a hand through his rat’s nest of hair, he disagrees. “No, Ry. I’m not tired and I want to work through this before Ruzek comes tomorrow.”
I am shocked that Ruzek is coming so quickly, but then again he lost his partner to this maniac so he has a personal vendetta. I would bank a guess either Austin or J called to set up this meeting though. I spoke with Ruzek earlier today and he wasn’t planning to interview J for a few days, to give his mind a chance to catch up. Looks like plans changed again without my knowledge.
“OK then, let’s talk. What did you two come up with?”
He casts his green eyes towards me and the serious parental mask covers his features. He only gets this look when he is worried about me and wants to make sure I am listening to him.
“This guy scares me, Ry. Desperation is no friend in a situation like this. We cannot afford to let our guard down again. I will admit that I didn’t take the matter as seriously as I should have, but I will not make that mistake again.”
I understand what he means. The texts alternate between desperate love and hostile threats against my family - and recently, me - if I do not obey. It is hard to tell what the individual behind the texts is really after. Is he solely after my heart? Or is he looking to hurt us? In the end, it doesn’t matter. I have no interest in him and he has already caused enough pain. This shit needs to end.
I pick up my phone and quietly scroll to the current bane of my existence: the texts from the unknown number. I start with the texts directly following the accident, hoping to get a sense of the progression:
Unknown: I hope you see now I am serious
Unknown: I know he is with u. End it or I end him
Unknown: I hate to see u cry, I would never hurt u the way they are
Unknown: Talk to me y don’t u ever answer me
Unknown: I am glad to see u don’t spend time with that QB anymore
Unknown: Don’t think I don’t see u with the other guy. I am the only one 4 u, when will u learn?
Unknown: Will this get ur attention – attached a picture of Boss – he can be next
Unknown: U should get out of there 4 a bit, u must want to c the daylight
Unknown: I love ur smile. I can’t wait till u smile 4 me
Unknown: Y won’t that guy just take a hint, u don’t want to c him
Unknown: Avoid the detective. Our relationship is our own. No biz of his
Unknown: Hope this makes you smile – attached a picture of the beach near my house
Unknown: That fucker really can’t take a hint. Jeez he shows up every day. Loser
Unknown: I saw you holding ur ‘friend’ that had better be the last time any man’s hands but mine are on u
Unknown: Will u just answer me once. I know u love me 2
Unknown: Glad J pulled thru now we can b 2gether
Unknown: R u fucking kidding me u run back 2 him. Is death the only thing u will take seriously
Unknown: Answer me u fucking bitch
Unknown: U will not win this, we will b 2gether I love u
Unknown: It is good 2 c u smile
Reading the texts of the last ten days in order reinforces that this person is unstable. Nothing new there. The only real things I know from the messages is that we have definitely met before and that he is either watching us or having us watched. He knows too many details and he has proven dangerous.
I look to J.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask, desperately hoping we can figure something out.
Chapter 9
Rylee
J and I have talked through all of the crap surrounding my stalker. We are at a total loss as to the possible identity of the mysterious pain in the ass. I feel like a complete heel sitting here in my brother’s hospital room trying to solve my problems when he is barely out of a coma, but he won't take no for an answer.
“Ry, come on. We have to get a grip on this. We can’t afford to take this lightly or be unprepared,” he says, breaking me out of my daze.
“I know that, J. Jesus. Don’t you think I know how serious this has become? I’ve watched you teeter on the edge of death for the last ten days.”
I didn’t mean for that to come out so bitchy, but I am on edge. This bullshit is consuming my life. I cannot go anywhere without a shadow, not that I have left the hospital yet. I am terrified of spending any time with the man I love. My brother and my best friends are continually threatened leaving me angry. It is a hard pill to swallow to have your life dictated by outside forces. I have never been one to relinquish control and now it feels like all control over my life has been taken from me.
“Look, Ry, I know this is tough for you. At the end of the day, you know we are in this together. You fight, I fight, and we will all fight until we win. That is what we do.”
Huffing like a spoiled brat, I respond. “It’s kind of hard to fight the invisible, J.”
His exasperated look tells me a lot. He is tired of my pity party. I need to buck up, quit feeling sorry for myself, and find a way to beat this guy. It is a bit ridiculous that J is the one is forced to rally my spirits when he’s just woken up from a coma.
“That is why we have to draw him out.”
My eyes go wide as saucers with shock. Draw him out? And exactly how are we to do that? I wonder in silence.
J reads my soundless reaction. “Let me explain. Austin and I talked about it. As long as we let this guy keep calling the shots, we are all under his thumb. So we want to talk to Ruzek about trying to expose him.”
It is a logical plan. We can’t keep letting this guy call the plays, but we can’t afford for another one of us to end up hurt either.
“OK, but how would we safely accomplish something like that?” I ask, hoping they have given this real thought.
He runs a hand up and down the cast on his leg as if he is trying to scratch an unreachable itch.
“Well, that is where things get a bit tricky. We’re thinking that you and Austin should continue as if you are broken up. You have to go to the draft next week anyway and he is heading to Houston.” He pauses to take a drink of water.
Austin is going to Houston. I'm not sure why I'm surprised, as he does have some heavy family issues to deal with. He was there until the bomb scare happened and he felt the need to come back for me, setting in motion the near catastrophic event ten days ago. This is just further proof of the chaos in our lives. I had to hear from my brother that my boyfriend is leaving town. That is not how things should be.
After clearing his gravelly throat and getting my attention, he continues. “So with you two separated it should be fairly simple to give the impression that you left him for good. Now we will have to talk to Ruzek about all of this, but we think that maybe you could fake a near relationship with him via text while you are in
New York. You know, so we could set him up and have him come to meet you once you are home and put an end to this.”
I take my time and think through the plan. It isn’t half bad, except I cannot be sure that the mystery man won’t follow me to New York. I am also not sure that I could fake a relationship with someone I loathe with every fiber of my being. But to put an end to this? I guess anything is worth a shot.
“If we were to do this, how do we know he won’t follow me to New York? If he knows anything about me, and I assume he does, he will know where I am regardless of whether he follows me.”
J pulls his free arm up to rub his broken clavicle. I watch him wince in pain as he moves and that does it for me. I am in on any plan. We have to put an end to this – the guy deserves to pay for what he did to J and for the death of Detective Rhodes.
“True, but it will help us decode who he is. If he follows you, we will have to assume some deeper than normal pockets and that will help narrow the list. I also think that we need to go through your client list. You don’t cross paths with too many people, Ry, so we have to start with the most likely and go from there.”
Shit. I had never really considered my clients before. I have always been good to each of them, but I can see how an unstable individual could misconstrue my intentions. I always take a new client out to eat or for drinks and try to convey a sense of family. I want my clients to know I am there for them. I don’t want to be the agent who only shows up around payday or in a crisis. I want to be there for the good and the mundane as well.
I start mentally going through my list. All of my clients would have the resources to do something like this. However, only one person comes to mind as a possible suspect and he is not my client. In fact, I refused to take him on a few months ago.
I try to contain my sudden realization because I want to talk to Ruzek first. I want to see if he can get some information on this guy. Maybe we can put an end to this before any plan has to be set in motion.
Jeremy’s green eyes bore into me. “Earth to Rylee, did you hear a word I said?”
I snap my focus back to him. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking through my list. Nobody jumps out at me, but I will talk to Gabe. Maybe somebody rubbed him the wrong way.”
I lie to protect J for now. I need to talk with Ruzek like yesterday. I discreetly pull his number up and text him:
Me: Can we meet tonight? I think I might have an idea who is behind this mess.
J is tiring quickly and, by the way his eyes keep involuntarily closing, I assume he will be asleep in a few minutes. He stretches out and lets out a cleansing yawn.
“OK, Ry, but let’s get a move on. I love you, sis. You don’t deserve this.”
I can see the adoration in his eyes that I have become accustomed to. My big brother has always been my rock and I love him for it. I wish I could have prevented this entire mess, but maybe now I can get us on the right track to ending it all. My phone vibrates in my hand.
Ruzek: Sure tell me when and I will be there
“Get some sleep, J. We’ll talk to Ruzek in the morning. I love you, and I am so glad you’re back. I missed you.”
I lean over and kiss his forehead before pulling the sheet up over his damaged shoulder.
Me: Meet me at the hospital ASAP
Chapter 10
Rylee
I sit anxiously, waiting for Detective Ruzek to arrive and thinking about what J said. We need to think through your client list. You don’t cross paths with too many people. I don’t know why Micah Jones didn’t pop on my radar before, but now I am almost positive he is involved.
I met Micah at The University of Alabama shortly after the NCAA National Championship, when it is permissible for agents to speak to student athletes who will likely be entering the NFL draft. Alabama turns out defensive stars like no other program and Micah was the leader of their championship team. I was one among several agents vying for the opportunity to represent Micah. He was a sure bet for a top ten pick in the draft.
Micah is a big boy at six foot five inches, and about 290 pounds. What makes Micah special, though, is that he can move. He has the speed of someone much smaller, as well as cat-like reflexes. He is an outstanding linebacker with his long arms and incredible athletic ability.
While in Tuscaloosa, I took Micah out and we got to know each other a little bit. Micah came off as a brat. There is no other way to describe his personality. Sure, he is a good-looking kid with tons of talent, but his attitude put me off right away.
I have never been in this business solely for the money. I love sports and watching athletes reach their highest potential, earning what they are due. Some say they earn too much, and that is probably true in the world we live in, but that is out of my control.
Micah was all about the money. He didn’t even really seem to care about playing at the highest level. That alone is an enormous red flag for me. I watched J and Ryan go through the trials and tribulations of transitioning from the college game to the professional level, and it is not easy. It takes hard work and dedication. Talent alone will not get you by. Micah did not come across as having the required drive and dedication needed to thrive beyond his current abilities.
During dinner, Micah ordered two - not one, but two - of the most expensive entrees on the menu and took maybe two bites of each before sending them back. He seemed to get off on the power trip, that he could snap his fingers and everything would be handed to him. He treated the wait staff like second-class citizens who were solely there to attend to his every whim and stroke his over-enlarged ego.
My decision was made before the bill came: I had zero interest in representing Micah. Just before his dessert arrived, he asked if I would be interested in going on a date with him. I was floored to say the least and extremely appalled. All I could think was, this kid will never make it; life will chew him up before he has the chance.
I politely turned him down, explaining that I do not date clients or potential clients. Or snotty little brats. This is when the red flags began whipping in the wind. After I turned him down, he informed me, “Oh honey it doesn’t matter what you want. I always get what I want. If I decide to have you, I will.”
After that revealing piece of information, I paid for our meal and ended our meeting. He asked whether I wanted to represent him as I waited for my car to be brought around. This is likely where I went wrong the first time. I told him that I no longer wished to be a part of his success. I felt that we would not be able to work together productively.
I meant every word I said. However, it is not until now that I can see the possible double meaning behind my words. I was never rude to Micah and I remained as professional as possible in the face of his erratic behavior. I should have told the little brat to grow the hell up and act like a man before coming to me with his nonsense, but I didn’t.
Shortly after Micah was drafted, he was arrested for possession of cocaine and driving while intoxicated. He was suspended for the first six games of the year, but that proved to be the beginning of his problems. He took offense to being punished and refused to show up for mandatory workouts. Thus, he never saw the field in his rookie year.
The team who drafted him eventually released him and he went on a childish tirade all over social media, becoming a pariah in the league. After the heat died down and he realized he could no longer act like a child in the world of grown-ups, he showed up at my office.
His first visit came just after the Super Bowl this year and he began requesting my services. He said he thought I could help him, since I was the only agent to walk away from him over a year ago. I considered his proposal and even talked it though with Jeremy. We ultimately decided it would not be a good idea to take him on.
After a week, I politely turned Micah down. He continued to plead with me. He told me I was his only shot at making it back. That is probably because every other agent in the business blacklisted the kid. I will say he seemed a bit more grounded and I did feel a bit bad
for him. I guess that is what happens when you realize that you are not the greatest gift the game ever received, but instead lucky to be playing it at all.
Over the next few weeks, Micah hung around and continued to beg me to take him on. I saw him at work and even on the beach a time or two. I chalked it up to his desperation and never thought much about it until now. The last time I remember seeing him was a day or two before I met Austin. However, I don't remember seeing him in all the time Austin and I have known each other. Of course this means nothing really; Micah could have just given up his cause and gone home for all I know.
I run my hands through my hair, exasperated. I cannot believe this is only occurring to me now. How could I have been so blind? Well, I know how I was blinded. One word: Austin.
The door to the waiting room opens with its telltale squeak. I practically jump out of my chair to meet the incoming person. When I notice it is Bode returning for his shift at J’s side, my lack of enthusiasm must show.
He cocks his head towards me with a smug smile and asks, “What, no love for me today, Ry?”
I smile, still looking over at the door before leaning in for a friendly hug.
“Sorry Bode. I’m waiting on Ruzek, and I thought you were him.” I give him my best sad face and he squeezes me tight, indicating I am forgiven.
“Now why would you be anxiously waiting on the detective this late at night? What is going on, Ry? Bring me up to speed.”
His quick words and quizzical tone indicate that he knows something is up. He knows me too well. I should be thankful J was exhausted or he would have noticed as well.
We take a seat in the far corner of the room so no interested ears can eavesdrop on our conversation. I explain the talk Austin and J had, then the talk J and I had, before telling him about my epiphany. He watches me with curiosity and surprise stretches across his features as I finish telling him my suspicions.
Bode studies me for a moment with his lips in a tight line. His reaction is making nervous. I have always been able to count on the truth from Bode.
Loving Enough (The Enough Series Book 2) Page 5