Alpha Foxtrot_Offensive Line

by Tracey Ward

  Sutton shifts anxiously in her seat. “Is it… am I in it?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  “Do you remember Liana?”

  “The pop singer that was on three seasons ago?”

  “That’s her. She’s in the tape. With Eric.”

  “Okay…”

  “Do you want to see it?”

  Sutton glances at me, shrugging. “I mean, I guess? Yeah?”

  I nod to the laptop. “Let’s see what you got, man.”

  McKay pops it open, blindly clicking a button that brings the screen to life. The video is shot from high up like a security camera but the quality is way too good, even for a television studio. This was shot by a very expensive very high resolution camera. It’s focused on the stage, though you can see a lot of the rest of the room in the wide-angled lens. There’s no one there at first, but after about ten seconds two people walk into view. One is definitely Eric. The other one is a young looking brunette I’ve never seen before.

  “That’s Liana,” Sutton whispers for my benefit. She frowns at the screen. “McKay, why do you record the studio?”

  “Because people are interesting,” he answers simply. “And it’s a public place. There’s no reasonable expectation of privacy there. Legally, I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I wasn’t thinking you had, I was just curious as to why.”

  “Because people are interesting,” he repeats.

  “Have you seen anything interesting with me in it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do those videos still exist?”

  “No. I deleted them.”

  “Do you promise?”

  “Do you need me to?”

  She smiles at him tenderly. “No. I don’t think I do. Thanks, McKay.”

  “Yes. But watch. This is important.”

  We watch closely as Liana giggles, stepping up onto the stage. Eric follows her. He’s smiling. Reaching for her. Taking her in his arms. They kiss slowly. He takes off her top even slower. Liana moans, reaching for his pants, and I glance around the room to make sure no one is paying attention to us watching porn in the middle of a bar.

  “Are we going to see them have sex?” Sutton asks nervously.

  McKay shakes his head. “Not in this version. In the full version you would but I cut it down for time and also necessity. You don’t need to see them have sex to get the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  “Listen.”

  We listen to some hot-and-heavy kissing for about twenty long seconds before Liana finally breaks away. She takes a few steps back from Eric, reaching behind herself to unhook her bra. When she drops it, we get a full HD image of her full silicone injected chest.

  “This is a really weird moment for us as a couple,” I mutter to Sutton.

  “Shhh! Eric is talking. What’d he say?”

  “Listen,” McKay repeats calmly.

  …you okay with that?” Eric asks seductively.

  Liana giggles. “That depends. Can you really make it happen?”

  “There’s not much I can’t make happen in this business. If you’re serious about it, so am I.”

  “I am.”

  “Show me.”

  “Oh God, no,” I breathe tensely. “Don’t show him, Liana.”

  “She does,” McKay confirms.

  “I figured.”

  “Shhh!” Sutton hisses.

  “How do you do it?” Liana asks as she kicks off her shoes.

  “You wanna know all my secrets, huh?”

  “All of them. Every last one.”

  “It’s easy. They’re just numbers. Numbers can be changed.”

  Liana laughs. “Kind of like my age, right?”

  “I don’t know anything about that and don’t tell me either,” Eric demands quickly. He pulls his shirt off over his head, stalking her back toward the orchestra pit near the staircase. “What I don’t know can’t hurt me.”

  “Legally, that’s not true,” McKay chimes in. “It doesn’t matter how old he thinks she is. If he has sex with her when she’s underage, it’s illegal. Even if she consented.”

  “Does she?”

  “Yes. Several times.”

  “McKay, when was this video taken?” Sutton asks, getting excited. Not sexually; the video is off-putting in so many ways. She’s getting excited about the prospect of nailing Eric’s skeevy ass to the wall.

  “Two years ago. Almost to the day.”

  “Is it date stamped?”

  “In the coding, yes.”

  Sutton pulls out her phone, typing frantically.

  “What are you doing?” I ask her.

  “Looking up Liana’s birthday.”

  “She turns twenty this year,” McKay tells her.

  Sutton lowers her phone. “When?”

  “In October.”

  “Motherfucker!” she shouts triumphantly.

  People in the bar turn to look at us.

  I immediately slam the laptop shut before the video and Eric’s sex crime gets any further.

  “We have him,” she gushes at me. “We can blackmail the hell out of him with this. He’ll have to drop the charges against you now.”

  I smile at her apologetically. “We have to take it to the police.”

  “What? No way! He’ll go to jail too, but he’ll never drop the charges against you. Especially when he finds out we turned him in.”

  “I know and that sucks but it’s the right thing to do. Think about it.” I gesture to the laptop frozen on an ugly moment in a very young woman’s life. “We have him because he actually did statutory rape a girl. She consented, yeah, but the law says she’s not mature enough to do that until eighteen.”

  “She was off by a few months.”

  “It’s still rape, Sutton,” I remind her gently.

  Her face falls along with her hopes. “Oh my God, you’re right. Ugh!” She buries her face in her hands. “I’m a monster.”

  “No. You’re not.”

  She drops her hands to glare at me. “Yes. I am. I wasn’t even thinking of her. I was only thinking about us and how this could help us. Meanwhile she’s out there somewhere thinking this was okay when it was so not okay.”

  “She doesn’t care.

  We both turn to McKay, surprised.

  “What do you mean ‘she doesn’t care’?” I ask carefully.

  “I sent her the video two years ago, right after I found it. I let her know I had it and that what he did was illegal. I sent it to her manager and her mom too. None of them cared. They said I could take it to the cops but they wouldn’t press charges. They also said they’d sue my face off if I tried to distribute it.”

  “Why didn’t they want to press charges?”

  “Because she loves him.”

  “Hold up.” I put my hands together in a T shape, calling for a time out. “Is she still sleeping with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?!” Sutton cries.

  I put my hand on her arm. “Baby, you gotta stop shouting. For real. We’re in a public place.”

  “Fuck that. What?!” she repeats loudly. “He’s been sleeping with her for the last two years?”

  “According to her, yes,” McKay confirms.

  “Oh. My. God,” Sutton chants slowly. She looks at me with so much anger, I feel honestly a little afraid for Eric. “I want you to hit him again, please. And this time, kill him.”

  “Okay. Again,” I say calmly, “public place. Watch what you say. I’m already in legal trouble with this guy. I don’t need people standing up as witnesses saying they heard me plotting his murder with you and McKay.”

  Sutton looks hopefully to McKay. “Do we need Liana to press charges to have him arrested for this?”

  “With the video evidence, no. He would be arrested whether she wants him to be or not.”

  “What’s the maximum penalty if he’s convicted?”

  “If it’s a misdemeanor, which it might b
e considering she was almost eighteen and there was no physical force,” McKay explains, “he could get a maximum of a year in prison and/or a thousand dollar fine.”

  “I’m a little insulted that the fine for punching this asshole in the face and the fine for having sex with an underage girl are the same,” I tell them angrily. “I just want that noted.”

  Sutton runs her cold hand up and down my arm, giving me a sympathetic look. “I know, babe. It’s not right.”

  “None of this is.”

  “So, what’s our next move?” she asks us both. “Do we use it to make him back down or do we turn him in?”

  McKay takes his laptop and shoves it back in his bag. “That’s up to you. I have to get back to the studio to rescue the show from my assistant. Let me know what you decide.”

  “McKay, wait.” Sutton stands just as he does. She comes around the table, surprising him with a hug. “Thank you for this.”

  He pats her on the back with one hand, grinning mildly. “Anytime, Sutton.”

  When she lets him go, I offer him my hand. “Thanks, man.”

  “Yep.”

  McKay leaves as abruptly as he showed up. Sutton and I sit down slowly, looking at each other with questioning eyes.

  “What do we want to do?” she asks.

  I shake my head, unsure. “I don’t know. I don’t feel right using his crime to negate mine.”

  “Two wrongs don’t make a right? Right?” she laughs weakly.

  “No,” I chuckle. “And I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to use that girl.”

  “Me neither.”

  Sutton stares at her drink, frowning sadly. “We’re right back where we started, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah. Looks like it.”

  “I think we should release the tape,” she says suddenly, her voice rich with conviction. “I think that if you’re going to face the consequences of what you did, so should he. I know it won’t stop him from pressing charges against you, and yeah, maybe you’ll get the max penalty and everything will go to hell, but at least we’ll see him burn too. And that has to count for something. At least if he goes down for this, it could stop him from doing it to another girl. He’s obviously a predator and a mindfucker. He had me so turned around, I didn’t know up from down, and he’s definitely got her on the chain too. Who knows, there might be others out there we don’t know about.”

  “You didn’t know about Liana,” I agree.

  “And she probably didn’t know about me. She wouldn’t have stood for it. Not if she really loves him like she says.”

  “Okay, but are we doing it for the right reasons or are we doing it for vengeance?”

  “Can’t it be both?” she asks hopefully.

  I smile at her devilish, angelic face. “How about this?” I take her hand firmly in mine. “I’ll do it for the right reason. You do it for the wrong reason. And together, we’ll have all of our bases covered.”

  “Like yin and yang.”

  “Chocolate and vanilla.”

  “Beef and broccoli.”

  “I am so hungry,” I groan. “Can we get dinner soon? I’m dying here.”

  “Can we do it after we turn in a criminal and crush our enemy like a bug?”

  “How about before, but we’ll get it to go.”

  She smiles fondly. “I love the way your mind works.”

  “And I love you,” I tell her seriously. She hesitates, her smile fading into something softer. A gentle gasp between her pink lips that makes me weak in all the right ways. “I love absolutely everything about you, Sutton.”

  Her smile finds strength again. Her lips find mine, and she sighs against them in a contented whisper that feels like life breathing into my body.

  “I love you too, Shane.”

  EPILOGUE

  SUTTON

  July 4th

  Soldier Stadium

  Chicago, IL

  It’s official. I don’t like football.

  Seeing Shane getting pummeled over and over by the largest men I’ve ever seen in my life is not my idea of fun on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. He said it would be fun, but he was wrong. Dead wrong. I worry every time his ass hits the ground. I think this is the time he’s not getting up again. They’ll wheel him off the field and he’ll disappear down the dark tunnel before he comes out dead on the other side. This place is a chocolate factory and Willy Wonka is a psycho. No one gets out alive.

  It doesn’t help that I’m actually on the field watching. I think the stands would have been better. I wouldn’t be so close to the action. I wouldn’t hear the smacks and the grunts and the things they say to each other. I’m from New York and some of this shit is new even to me. I’m almost impressed.

  “You get used to it,” Lilly tells me consolingly.

  She’s been my rock all afternoon. Normally she sits in the stands with Sloane and the other girlfriends and wives, but Sloane stayed at the hotel with the baby because the heat was just too much for the little guy and I had to be on the field to sing the National Anthem before the game started. Lilly offered to go with me and be my guide, and I couldn’t be more grateful to her. She’s been really good to me the last few weeks. I’ve basically been living with Shane in the apartment under her and Colt, and she’s become the first girlfriend I’ve ever had that’s my age. Either Lilly is the exception to all the rules or my mother lied to me about what backstabbing bitches women are. Then again, I don’t have anything that Lilly wants. If we were in competition together, maybe she’d suck. I guess we’ll never know.

  It felt good to sing in front of an audience again. I haven’t done it in so long, my hands were shaking. I practiced all week until Shane was sick of hearing it and he begged me to stop. He told me I was perfect. I told him to get bent, no one is perfect, and I needed to practice. He politely disappeared upstairs with Colt and Lilly to let me have my meltdown in private. Sometimes a girl needs to freak herself out to calm herself down. It’s good that he can accept that.

  “I can’t imagine ever getting used to this,” I tell Lilly doubtfully.

  “Just wait until you see a real game.”

  “What do you mean? This isn’t a real game?”

  “It’s a preseason game. It doesn’t count for anything. They do it for practice and to get the legs under the rookies. The guys are going easy on each other because no one wants to get injured for nothing.”

  “So none of this matters?”

  She bobs her head back and forth. “Yes and no. They want the practice. They’ve been off for months. It’s good to get back into the grind and see how the team meshes with it’s new players. But if they win or lose, it doesn’t count against their regular season record.”

  “And that record is what gets them to the Super Bowl again?”

  She smiles excitedly. “If we play our cards right, yeah. We’re favored to go again.”

  “How many games do they play in a year?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “And Shane will be in all of them?”

  “He’s one of our best players. He better be in all of them.”

  “Wow,” I mutter in disbelief. I flinch as the line collides again. Shane shoves a guy back three steps before knocking him straight on his back. “What have I gotten myself into?”

  Lilly chuckles lightly. “Like I said. You get used to it.”

  I guess I should be happy that I’ll have to. It’s a relief for all of us to see Shane on the field. It was touch and go for a while with the Assault charges from Eric, but once we gave the video of him and Liana to the police, Eric’s credibility went out the window. Yes, everyone saw Shane hit him. No one was denying that. But when it came time to go in front of a judge, Eric’s testimony that he was the victim was somewhat tainted by the fact that just a week before, he had been convicted of a misdemeanor count of Statutory Rape. It was especially damning when I went on the stand and told the judge the unwilling nature of our relationship. I consented to sex with him, I admitted that, but I m
ade it clear that he was a predator looking for weaknesses in young women. It established a pattern he couldn’t talk his way out of.

  Eric was fired from DNA once the Liana video got out. The day after his replacement took the helm, he offered me my spot back as one of the dancers. I agonized over it for a few days before politely declining. I decided it’s time to get back to theater instead. I can’t be as big as I once was, but I can be happy. Thanks to Shane, I’m realizing that’s worth just a little more than applause. I’m in rehearsals now for a production of Rear Window that’s looking at a run through the summer. Maybe an extension through the end of the year if it does well. I’m excited every day when I get up to go to work and I can’t remember the last time I had that feeling. It’s amazing and scary, but I’m leaning into it. I refuse to let fear hold me back anymore. It’s an easy stance to take when you have a man like Shane behind you.

  The judge gave Shane the maximum fine of a thousand dollars. That was it. The charge is on his record forever now, but he said that’s fair. He wasn’t innocent. He shouldn’t have gotten off free and clear. Shane went ahead and paid his fine, then donated another fifty-thousand dollars to a local women’s shelter because he’s a good man. He’s a unicorn. He’s magic in motion.

  When the game is over and the Kodiaks have crushed the Bears, we stay for a fireworks show over the stadium. Shane lays out a blanket on the field for us. I eat a hotdog made from real meat, or as real as hotdog meat gets, and I don’t throw it up. We share a warm beer. We chat with other players and their girlfriends and wives. We watch kids run around wildly. We laugh when a little boy throws off his diaper and streaks the field in front of everyone. We’re a family there under the dusk.

  When the show starts, I lay down on my back next to Shane and watch as the sparks fly overhead. Debris rains down on us, making me snuggle harder into his side to avoid being hit as he laughs at me quietly.

  “It’s not funny,” I laugh. “I could lose an eye.”

  “How is it better if I do?”

  “My face is my job, Shane.”

  “But will you still love me when I’m disfigured from a flaming piece of Chinese plastic?”