Keeping Score

by Alyssa Kale

  It’s been a few days since the hospital and the tabloid stuff, but Braxton is still on edge. I can’t decide if it’s getting worse and I’m not seeing it, or if he’s just decided he doesn’t want me here.

  He’s been in his gym a lot with the door closed, acting like he’s working out, but I can hear him talking to someone on the phone.

  “No... I need you to handle this. No, I’m not telling her that…”

  Telling me what? I try to keep eavesdropping, but he hangs up shortly after that.

  When he comes out of his home gym, I ask, “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” he says, running his hands through his hair again. His telltale sign he’s frustrated and no, not everything is okay.

  “Do I need to go home, Brax?”

  “No,” he says curtly and walks away.

  That’s odd.

  I try not to think about the way he’s acting and turn on The Hallmark Channel to hopefully help me forget. It’s December, so all the cheesy Christmas movies are playing. Where a high-powered city girl who loves her life and job goes to a small town for business and ends up leaving the city and her job for some dude who works at a coffee shop. I laugh inwardly, because it’s so funny, but these movies are so good. Even if they put me to sleep after a while.

  A few hours later, I wake to Brax yelling, “Just make it go away, Bob!” before I hear a crash. “Shit.”

  I decide to get up and walk to where Braxton is—his home gym... again. “Brax.”

  “Shit, Soph. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says as he tries to guide me back to the sofa.

  “It’s okay. I feel like all I do is sleep right now. Is everything okay?” I repeat the question I asked earlier today.

  “Yes... no... yes. I’ve got it under control,” he says.

  “Which is it? Yes or no?” I ask, hoping he will tell me what’s wrong.

  “Yes, everything will be okay. Let’s get you back to the sofa.” He tries to start guiding me back again, but I don’t let him.

  “Brax, tell me what’s going on. Hearing you stress and yell isn’t helping me stay calm.”

  “It’s nothing you need to worry about right now. Baseball stuff,” he says.

  “Are you being traded?”

  “No, nothing like that. My contract with the Aces doesn’t expire for another few years,” he says, alleviating that concern that he’ll have to move.

  “Good, then what is it?” I ask again.

  He sighs. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. It’s bugging you, and I heard you telling someone on the phone that you’re ‘not telling her.’ Who is the her?”

  He runs his hand through his hair again. “Soph, seriously. I’ll tell you when you need to know, but right now is not the time.”

  I roll my eyes and huff back to my spot on the sofa.

  35

  * * *

  BRAXTON

  It’s been a couple of weeks since I heard from the asshole threatening to release X-rated images of Sophie. My attorney, Bob, and I have a plan now; it just needs to be executed.

  Bob reaches out to the asshole and tells him if he releases the images, we will go to the police. We were able to find out who he is, and I won’t hesitate to ruin his reputation. Texas doesn’t play when it comes to a potential felony charge, and my attorney is not messing around.

  My phone rings, and it’s Bob, hopefully with good news.

  “Hey, Bob,” I answer.

  “Hey,” he replies, sounding like he’s about to tell me what I don’t want to here.

  “Just give it to me straight,” I say.

  “He doesn’t believe we know who he is.” He sighs.

  I laugh. “He’s such a fucking idiot.”

  “I know,” Bob agrees.

  “So what’s our next plan of action?”

  “Well, I do have a cease and desist being delivered to his office as we speak, so hopefully he’ll get the message that we know exactly who he is when he gets that.”

  “Good. But that still doesn’t negate the fact that he has pictures and possibly a video of Sophie in very compromising positions.” My anger is growing by the minute. I don’t like the thought of anyone having images or videos of Sophie, my Sophie, at all.

  “I know, Braxton, but there’s not much we can do about that. Have you told her yet?”

  “No.” I don’t want to tell her. She’s under enough stress, and the doctor said she needs to remain in a stress-free environment.

  “You need to tell her. She deserves to know that someone has these images of her and is threatening to release them.”

  “I’m not telling her anything right now.”

  “Telling me what.” Shit. Sophie walks into my home gym that has been doubling as my office recently. “Brax, what are you hiding?”

  “Tell her, Braxton,” Bob says on the line.

  “I’ve got to go. Bye.” I hang up before he can tell me anything else.

  “Braxton. Tell me what you need to tell me.”

  I take a deep breath and tell her everything. From the unknown texts and the images to the cease and desist letter.

  “Let me see.” She holds out her hand for my phone, which I hand over after pulling up the text thread from the “unknown” number.

  She scrolls for a minute then looks me dead in the eye. “That motherfucker.”

  “I know.”

  “Wait, how long have you had these?” Instead of waiting for me to answer, she looks at the date and time. “You’ve had these for weeks. For weeks, Braxton. When were you going to tell me?”

  “Soon... ummm... I don’t know... never.” I stumble to tell her the truth. I didn’t want her to know at all. I didn’t want her to have this worry hanging over her on top of everything else. I wasn’t going to tell her, because I have to protect her. It’s my fault she’s in the limelight. It’s my fault her name is out there for the world to see. “I was trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me?” she yells. “Protect me, Braxton? I know exactly who sent these images. I could’ve called that asshole myself and dealt with this.”

  Before I can say anything, Sophie turns on her heel and walks toward the main living area. I follow. I see her grab her phone and put it to her ear.

  “Jared... No, you fucking listen to me... No, you won’t... Why the fuck did you even film us, anyway? You can’t be fucking serious... No, Jared, if you release those images, I’ll release your name, and your reputation will go down in flames. You won’t be able to sell a plot of land in this town ever again; do you hear me? You think I’m kidding? Well, I’m fucking not!” Sophie grabs her stomach as she continues the conversation. Fuck. “No, Jared. I’m serious... You release that video or the images, your face blurred or not, and I’ll release all of your information. If I go down, I’ll bring you down with me... Five million? What? Why do you need five million dollars? Well, that sucks for you, but I can’t say I’m surprised... No, Braxton isn’t giving you a thing. You dug that hole for yourself, so get yourself out of it.” She hangs up the phone, slams it down on the counter, and grabs her stomach again.

  “Soph.” I grab her hand and guide her to the sofa to sit down. I want to tell her how proud I am of her and comment on her numerous F-bombs, but I opt to get her to sit and settle down first.

  “Can you get me some water please?” She’s hurting. I can tell. She won’t admit to it, because she’s terrified that this outburst has caused something, but she’s in pain.

  I grab a clean glass and fill it with crushed ice and water just the way she likes it and run back to the living room to give it to her.

  “Thank you.” She takes a huge gulp, and I can see her try to calm herself down.

  “Are you okay, Soph.” I’m so worried. I don’t know if I need to call her doctor or Kendall or just leave her be.

  “I don’t know. I’m hurting pretty bad.” She’s still holding on to her stomach.

  �
�I read on the internet last night that if you lie on your left side, it might help.”

  She nods and hands me the glass of water as she positions herself on her left side. Once she’s comfortable, I grab the blanket she’s been using in here and cover her up. Then, I make myself comfortable at her feet, gently lifting them up and placing them in my lap.

  We don’t say anything for a while. Just sit in silence and wait and pray and wait and pray.

  When the pain seems to be under control, Soph asks, “Jared said he blackmailed you for five million dollars. Is that true?”

  I nod.

  “Why did you leave that part out?”

  “You took off before I could tell you everything,” I reply honestly.

  “Oh,” she says and pauses before continuing. “Were you going to pay it?”

  I shake my head. “Guys like that always just want more and more. Paying it would’ve shown him that I have it, and he’d know how he could get more.”

  She just nods again, unable to say anything else.

  “Why did he say he wanted the money?” I ask.

  “Apparently, he borrowed some money for a poker game and lost. Now the loan sharks are after him, and his dad won’t give him the money either.”

  “What an idiot.” I’m trying to decide whether I should laugh or be mad, but when people get desperate, they do stupid shit. Like sell a video to a tabloid magazine. And I wouldn’t put it past this fucker. With or without Sophie’s threats.

  Sophie eventually falls asleep, and I choose to see that as a good thing. She’s not hurting anymore, I don’t think. I slowly get up and call my mom.

  I told Mom about Sophie and her story shortly after the tabloid stuff came out. She thought I’d made the same mistake twice, but once I told her everything, her heart melted into a puddle of goo. Me, taking care of a woman who is pregnant with another man’s baby. Most men would run. Hell, I should run, but I can’t. Not from her.

  “Hey, Brax.” She’s excited I’m calling her. “How’s our girl? How’s the baby?”

  I laugh at her our girl comment. “She’s okay for now, Mom. We had some trouble with pain a bit ago, but I told her to lie on her left side after reading an article on the internet, and she fell asleep.”

  “That’s my boy.” I can hear the smile on her face. “Should I come and help? I can get time off work.”

  “No, Mom. It’s okay we got it.” I would love her here, but considering Sophie hasn’t met her yet, I don’t want to cause any more stress on her.

  My mom and I continue to talk on the phone for a little while longer as she catches me up on all the happenings back home. I miss home, but I do love it in Texas.

  The next day, I wake to an empty bed, which is odd, because I’m usually up before Sophie. I head to the kitchen, and she’s not there either. Nor is she in the living room, bathroom, or this entire apartment. She’s gone.

  I run back to my room and grab my phone to call her. It rings and rings, but there’s no answer. I hang up and text her.

  Me: Where are you? I’m getting worried.

  I stare at my phone and will it to ding back with another text.

  I decide to go ahead and text Kendall to see if she knows.

  Me: Have you talked to Sophie? She left my apartment, and she’s not answering my calls and text.

  I see that one went through and she read it quickly. The little dots pop up and go away. Pop up and go away.

  Ding.

  Kendall: She’s here. She’s fine. She asked for some space.

  What. The. Fuck?

  Me: Can you have her call me please?

  Kendall: She doesn’t want to talk to you right now. Just please leave her alone.

  I chunk my phone across the room, and that’s when I see the note left on the kitchen counter.

  Brax,

  I can’t do this.

  Thank you for everything.

  -Sophie

  Can’t do what? Be protected? Be taken care of?

  I run my hand through my hair. Frustrated doesn’t even begin to cover it. I enjoy having Sophie in my home and in my bed every night. This life isn’t for everyone, but I could’ve protected her from what comes with being a baseball girlfriend.

  Girlfriend? Wife? Neither of those sound as bad as they did a before.

  A few months ago, I didn’t want either. A couple of years ago, I just wanted to get laid in every city, and that cost me dearly with Amber. She wanted marriage, a house, and a white picket fence, and I couldn’t do that with her. She lived with me for a few months before I realized that, even if that child was mine, I couldn’t be with her. It wouldn’t have been good for any of us.

  When it came back that the child wasn’t mine, I was so relieved, but so sad for the child. She claimed she has no idea who the father is. I don’t know if that’s still the case, but I do know she moved back home, and I haven’t heard from her since.

  After that, I swore I would be more careful. I swore I wouldn’t be in that situation again.

  Sophie is different though.

  Sophie is good. And honest. And everything I want and need. Though I didn’t realize it until she walked into my life.

  I look around and see little pieces of Sophie everywhere. Her water glass on the nightstand next to her side of the bed. Her side of the bed. Her favorite blanket laid haphazardly on the back of the sofa. Her shampoo in my shower.

  I can’t be here right now.

  I could go try to win her back myself, but she asked for space. And space is what she’ll get, but not for long. No way am I going to let Sophie slip through my fingers.

  I know exactly where I want to be if I can’t be with Sophie though.

  Seven hours later and I’m pulling into the driveway of my childhood home.

  I need time with my mom. She’ll know what to do.

  36

  * * *

  SOPHIE

  Earlier in the day

  I can’t be here. I’m so angry Braxton kept Jared’s threats from me.

  I could’ve stopped that real fast. Jared would’ve never released those images. It would’ve hurt him just as much as it would’ve hurt me. He’s in them too, blurred out or not.

  I lie in bed next to Braxton. I know I’ve fallen in love with him. I know he’s let me stay with him because of all the crap that’s happening with the tabloids and my name being out in the public.

  It’s not his fault that I’m having complications. Those probably would’ve happened with or without the extra stress in my life.

  I know one thing though; I want my bed. I want my own home. I need to finish setting up my nursery and wash all the baby’s clothes. I know now from my last sonogram that it’s a boy, and I want to finish putting the last touches on the nursery. I’ve kept everything neutral up until I knew.

  I don’t have my car here, so I decide to text Kendall in hopes that she’s awake and I don’t wake Braxton. It’s a weekday, so she should be getting up if she’s not already.

  Me: You up?

  Kendall: Yeah. You okay?

  Me: Can you come get me?

  Kendall: Yeah, I’ll be there in 30.

  Kendall: Are you okay?

  Kendall: In labor?

  Kendall: Where’s Braxton?

  The last texts come in so fast I haven’t had a chance to respond to one before the next one comes in.

  Me: I’m fine. No, I’m not in labor. He’s still asleep.

  Kendall: Okay, I’m on my way.

  She doesn’t ask any more questions. Right now. I know they’ll come once I get in her car though.

  True to her word, thirty minutes later, she pulls up in front of Braxton’s house and rolls down the passenger window to whisper-yell, “Get in, loser. We’re going shopping.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Bed rest, remember? Can you just take me home?”

  I sit and buckle myself in as she puts the car back in drive and heads out of the neighborhood.

  “Sooo…” Here
we go; she’s about to pepper me with questions. “Why are you sneaking out of Braxton’s house?”

  “I just can’t be there anymore,” I respond, not wanting to say any more.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  I roll my eyes. She’s not going to leave this alone until I tell her.

  “Braxton apparently got a text from Jared a few weeks ago with pictures of Jared and me in compromising positions.”

  “Whaaat?” Kendall screams at an octave I’ve never heard come out of her before.

  I continue, “Yeah, and he threatened to release them if Braxton didn’t pay a ton of money.”

  “Whaaat?” she repeats that same sound, unable to say anything else, I guess.

  “Braxton kept it from me until I overheard him speaking to his attorney, trying to get it to go away.”

  “Whaaat?” She drags it out longer this time.

  “So, yeah. This went on for weeks. Braxton’s been trying to figure out how to get it to go away. All it would take is a statement from me stating that the other person in the image is Jared, and, poof, his reputation would be toast.”

  I continue to tell her about the phone call to Jared and how he gave up like the coward he is. And I don’t have to really worry about it anymore. Although, I do, because he still has those images and I assume a video that he took of us having sex. Without my permission.

  “Wait,” Kendall begins. “So you’re telling me that Jared videoed you and him doing it? And you had no idea?”

  “Basically. Those images looked like they were screen grabs from a video.”

  “Wow, and he tried to use them to blackmail Braxton?”

  I click my tongue. “Basically.”

  “Shit, girl. Your life is a lot of drama.”

  “I know. And to make matters worse, I’ve fallen for a man who said he’d never get married.” My life is a shitshow.

  “Did he really say that?” she asks, doubt evident in her voice.