by H. J. Bellus
“Do we have to go?” I ask, taking both and stepping closer to him. I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Because we make really good friends.”
He quirks an eyebrow.
“Yeah, we do. Blazing our own trail, Justice. It’s our damn time.” He kisses my cheek this time, and we part ways. I bite down on my bottom lip the whole walk through my house and into the garage to my car. I don’t want it to end, but I do have to get into the office and find out what’s happening. I took off the minute Roan told me he would handle things. However, the not knowing what’s going on with the press or what the talk is about over the team winning is driving me insane.
Liam backs out of my driveway, while I get my bags situated in the backseat, double checking I have everything for the day. Tapping my chin, I run through a mental recap in my head. The last two weeks have been nothing short of fuck shit crazy. My mind is all over the place, and knowing me and the way I feel after last night, I’d forget my head if it weren’t attached. Doubt I’ll forget the pleasure twittering between my legs, though. Best sex of my life.
“Got my MacBook. Guess that’s the most important thing.” I shut the door, open the driver’s to get in, and come face-to-face with a neatly wrapped box. Silver wrapping paper tied off with a red velvet ribbon and bow.
“What in the hell?” I whisper. There’s no way Liam would’ve had time to sneak this in here unless he did it while I was sleeping. Excitement runs a trail to my heart wondering what he did for me.
I plop down behind the wheel knowing I’m already running late, but my curiosity to see what’s inside wins out. I slip my finger under the edge of the wrapping paper and tug the bow from the box. I toss the lid to the passenger seat and push through the piles of tissue paper to find black lace. A white piece of paper is peeking through the odd mess.
One day, baby. One day, you’ll be wearing this for me. I want to smell your pussy on it. One day, me and you. Your snobby-ass blonde attitude will finally realize you’re not too good for me. Until then, enjoy these.
Xoxo
The note tumbles from my fingers as if it were laminated in freezing ice. I glance back down at the box shaking with fear, and that’s when I realize the crusty white flakes all over the lace. I scream. My dirty fingers fumble to get the keys in the ignition. I pull out of the garage without a second thought and speed toward the stadium. Terrified and sick to my stomach. What kind of twisted person would do something like this? My hands feel dirty, my skin that was washed with love feels like acid is taking the desirable tingles away and replacing them with a burning sensation.
I jump out of my seat when my speakers blare with an incoming call. I swerve back and forth in my lane, finish rubbing in the hand sanitizer before glancing down to see Danika’s name flashing on my radio. Without thinking, I answer the call, needing one of my closest friends more than ever to ground myself at the moment. Danika is several years younger than me. She’s the oldest daughter to our family’s head of security, Aidan Hughes. She knows all about Liam and me.
“Hey,” I manage to get out through the fear clogging my throat.
“My number-one bitch! Damn, I miss you.”
“Danika.” I can barely get her name out through my panic. Sweat beads form on my forehead, and my chest goes tight.
“Baby girl, your team kicked ass yesterday, and you looked absolutely stunning. They kept flashing up to all of you. I wish I could be there to see everything you’ve accomplished in person. College is killing me. I’m so damn proud of you, Justice! Hold on one second.” I hear a door close, and right now I’d give this all up to hide in a tiny dorm room and cry. “There, safe in my room. Tell me all about it. I tried calling you a dozen times last night, but you didn’t pick up.”
I open my mouth and then close it, my eyes shifting over to the poisonous box in the passenger seat. Chills race up and down my spine. I slide the box to the floor, dumping it upside down, so the contents are out of sight. This isn’t mafia style, but then again, that’s what makes them so damn dangerous; they always keep you guessing.
“Justice, are you there?”
“Yeah.” I grip the steering wheel pulling into my parking spot at the stadium. “I got a package this morning.”
“Was it ten inches and thick?” She chuckles at her own joke.
“Danika!” Everything slams out of me at once, causing bile to rise up the back of my throat. “Someone sent me dirty lingerie. There was a note. I have no idea who it’s from. Someone either snuck in or broke into my fucking garage.”
I rattle on about all of it, changing the tone of the conversation. I remain in my car, not wanting to be out in public. I keep my vision on three security guards standing near the entrance. This is not me. I don’t do fear. But then again, I have never had to face threats in my life.
“You need to tell Roan, Justice.”
“No, I’m telling you. You better promise not to say a word,” I reply.
“Goddammit. This isn’t how things are done, and you know it.” I’ve put her in an awful position. Shit.
“Please, let me do this my way, Danika. I promise if I get one more thing from whoever this is, I will tell them. Right now, I need you to calm me down and listen. Why? Why fucking me?” I grip the side of my head. “God, I can’t remember if I left the garage door open last night.” This is strange and so out of character for me to be forgetful. The garage door was closed when Liam and I went to leave. I pushed the button to open it myself. Was the side door unlocked? How in the actual hell did any of this happen?
“Out of all this, why does that matter? Jesus, Justice.”
“Because that means he walked right in.” He could have been watching Liam and me, too. I remember now. I was so caught up in him that I never set my alarm system. A top-of-the-line system at that. One my family uses back home. God, how could I have been so stupid? Come to think of it, I haven’t been using it for weeks. If my dad knew, he would fly off the handle, and I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. Taking chances is not something we do.
“You need to tell someone,” she presses again.
I shake my head in silence, vowing to keep this to myself for now. Right when everything is on track and it seems the stars in my universe are aligning, this lands in my lap.
“I’ve been in the media a lot lately. Just has to be some creeper.” I try to soothe the ache.
“I’m not going to sit states away while this shit goes down.”
“Yes, you are. I said I would tell someone, and I will. Promise me, Danika.” I need to hear her say it. It will drive me crazy if she doesn’t.
“Okay, okay, I promise. Calm down and pull yourself together.”
Danika is a bulldog like her mother. She rattles off her mouth before thinking, and yet she knows how to keep secrets like the rest of us. We’ve had each other’s backs for years in some of the ugliest and nastiest times to the beautiful ones, and right now I need her to hold me up.
Boom. Boom.
“Son of a bitch.” I jump high in my seat. My head hits the top of the car. I scream, hand automatically sliding in between the seat where I keep my gun.
Liam is standing there with a dazzling smile that quickly morphs into a concerned look.
I hold up a finger, pull down the visor, and pretend I’m checking out my appearance. My complexion is pale.
“I have to go. Liam is here. Not a word, and I mean it.”
“You can give me more details on what’s going on with him another time. I’ll keep my mouth shut, for now. Don’t make me regret it. I love you. And be smart, Justice.”
“Okay. Love you. Call you later.” I hang up before she has any more time to preach.
I jump swiftly from the front seat and slam the door, leaving behind the ticking time bomb. I should tell him everything right now. Fall into his solid chest and let him protect and heal me. I can’t. I’m not going to be selfish and have him worrying about me. That’s a sure way for him to get injured again. This is
Liam’s time to shine in the NFL and take back his titles. More than anything I’m going to give that to him, or at least every possible chance. I will go to my dad or Roan if anything else happens; until then, I’ll be more aware of the guns I own. I know how to shoot, and I won’t think twice. I hate guns, but I’ll put a bullet through a man’s skull before I let him take a damn thing from me.
“Hey, you okay?” Liam asks after I gather my bag and lock the door. He doesn’t wrap his arms around me, but instead discreetly places his palm at the small of my back.
“Just rushed. Hate that feeling,” I lie. It kills my insides slowly. Fucking torture. Liam is the last person I want to lie to. I whip my head in his direction and give him a curious stare. “What in the hell are you doing out here?”
“Forgot my phone in my car. We’re looking at film this morning, and Coach is held up at a staffing meeting.” He leans in, runs a hand down the side of my face. God, it relaxes me. I could so easily fall into him. “I’m blaming my forgetful mind on this beautiful blonde from last night.”
I’m blaming my forgetful mind, too. For an entirely different reason. “Some blonde? Is that like some pig from Charlotte’s Web?” I force a half grin.
“Shit.” Liam steps back and runs his hands through his hair. “Ain’t nobody beating Wilbur. Sorry, babe.”
I punch his chest and step toward him, not giving a damn who is watching or what will hit the media. I need him to calm the raging storm of fear and terror inside of me.
“Kiss me, Liam.”
He doesn’t back away or hesitate before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. I cling to his T-shirt, fisting it in my hand. I soak up everything about him. The way he takes his time as if he never wants this kiss to end. I really despise myself right now. Keeping secrets from him is not what I want to do. Secrets and lies eventually catch up and destroy.
The beeping of a text message forces us apart. We begin to walk side by side to the entrance of the stadium, obviously gathering the full attention of the three security guards.
“Morning, guys, have a good day.” I force a smile.
“You too,” they say in unison, lifting their chins to Liam and opening the door for us.
“Thank you,” Liam acknowledges before hooking his pinky with mine. A subtle gesture that he’ll never know how significant it truly is.
“You sure you're okay?” he asks.
“I am.” And that’s not a lie.
Our linked pinkies disconnect as we take separate halls, each on our own path to a workday. My first stop is going to be at Sage’s desk to let her know that under no circumstance are there to be any deliveries or visitors that are not on my schedule.
12
Liam
Adrenaline runs through my veins and my heart pounds as I stare around the locker room. Four weeks of standing on the sidelines, fingers itching, legs twitching to get out on the field is over for me. I’m so damn ready to play.
“Liam, a quick word.”
“Sure,” I answer, take up residence next to the female reporter with no hesitation. I know the drill, and so does she. The ones who stand outside of the locker rooms or on the field are top of the line. They talk about the game and nothing else.
“You missed an entire season with your injury. How does it feel to be suited up again?”
“Beats sitting on the couch, I can tell you that. A little over a year ago, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand before a sold-out stadium and show the fans what I was blessed with in my blood. I wasn’t even certain I’d play again. I’m honored to be wearing the Diamonds uniform, blessed to be playing with every one of these men. We have some of the best coaches, best players in the league. This afternoon, the team showed our fans and San Diego that we’re here to play. We’re ready to take on Florida next week. They aren’t the team everyone is talking about anymore. Our team is.” I nod at the reporter, answering the rest of her questions before she has a chance to ask them, and weave my way through the chaos in the hallway to where Justice is waiting with my family.
I’m high off this win. Ready to see Justice smile. See the pride in my parents, and even listen to my sister prod me with all the errors the team made. There isn’t a thing I could think of that would bring me down.
The team was geared up and ready to go this afternoon, the loss to New England last week already forgotten. Now, it’s time to get ready for the real action. I’m pumped and ready to play the first regular game of the season next Sunday.
We just won the last preseason game, and even though every win is better than the last, this one came with an extra slash in the column for me personally. God, the look on Carson Harrington’s face when the clock ticked down to zero and the crowd roared like thunder made me want to look at him and wink. Filthy fucking player that he is.
And Justice, she looked more put together today than the other night when I brought up how shaky she was after I saw her sitting in her car the morning after we first had sex. Her face was as white as a ghost. About flipped my shit thinking something bad had occurred between the time I’d left her and when she’d sped into the parking lot and stopped before she hit the coach’s car. Then my head shifted gears wondering if she regretted our night together. That is until she asked me to kiss her. Still have a nagging feeling she’s keeping something from me.
Every time I ask her about it, she claims to be stressing out over the season. Not saying she isn’t, but there’s something else going on in that pretty little head of hers, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what.
As the general manager of this team, she is everywhere. Eyes and ears to her family. Staff meetings, coaches meetings, and fuck all if I know what else she does or how she does it all, but she does. The woman is possessed with making this team a success, but tonight I’m breaking her down. She isn’t leaving my house until she tells me what the hell she’s hiding from me.
I told her no more keeping things bottled inside, and I’ve let it go on long enough.
“Hey, Blake. Got a sec?” I grit my teeth at the sound of his voice, the man himself, Carson. The person who has come along and knocked me off my high.
I’d love nothing more than to tell him that I don’t have a sec, but I have a year of pent-up anger that would much rather land my fist right into his fucking face.
I close my eyes, slow my steps. The visual of him sideswiping me with an illegal hit will haunt me forever. My shoulder would have given out on me one way or the other; it was the way the son of a bitch taunted me afterward that nicked the hole to allow the hatred to pour out of me.
“Even a rookie knows not to step out on the field injured. That’s how you get taken out,” he had said, pointed to his temple, and left me there in the worst physical pain I had felt in my life.
He’s right. I shouldn’t have played. But for him to toss it in my face was unethical, unprofessional, and would have earned him a trip to the hospital instead of me if I hadn’t been in such agony I couldn’t see straight.
“Come on, man, let’s talk.” Fuck! I internally roar.
I stop in my tracks, open my eyes. The sound of that voice has me wanting to slink out of my skin. I’m hesitant to keep walking and ignore the little prick. Never did like him, on or off the field. He’s reckless, worn out, and doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.
“You have a good team. How the hell did you beg them to take you on? You jumped on your ex, started fucking the little mafia princess to win this job over others who deserved this position, didn’t you?” Carson positions himself in front of me, jerks his chin, while my entire body goes rigid and stiff.
“You did not just say that to me, you slimy sack of shit.”
One of the things Justice and I talked about over the past few weeks was us coming out to the world. We did it last Monday after I flew home from Massachusetts. The loss was still fresh in my mind. She grabbed my hand, pulled me in for a kiss right in front of everyone at the airport. About blew my load in front
of my dad and team. Our picture was front and center on every tabloid, and people have been talking about it since. Most of them are happy for us. This sad excuse for a human isn’t one of them. He has jealousy crawling out of his pores.
“I’m going to tell you the same thing I tell everyone else when they ask about my private life; you have a question regarding football, then I’ll answer it. Otherwise, you can fuck off with the rest.” I sling my bag over my shoulder without looking at him any more than necessary, slide around him, and take two steps before he speaks again. This time, his words have me pivoting toward him and pinning him to the wall with my stare.
“I see how it is. No one wanted you, so you went to work for the fucking mob. Taking money from innocent people and turning it dirty. Tell me this, does she control you in bed? Hold a knife to your throat and threaten you?” His jealous vibes are glued to him like a gold digging whore.
My father’s face flashes briefly before my eyes. His voice is telling me to walk away. They skip right down the hall. I drop my bag and thump my chest to his. I do not give a flying fuck if anyone sees us. Justice being my girlfriend or not, he will not talk about a woman like that in front of me.
“You know, a good man would walk away from a piece of shit like you. I’m not that man. You disrespected a woman. A woman who would wipe your ass with this floor. The thing is, that’s the kind of man you’ve always been, Carson. The man who pushes women around. I don’t have time for your jealous bullshit. Everyone knows your time is up. If you speak her name or even look her way, you’ll be the one with a knife to his throat, and trust me, it won’t be her who uses it.” I am so pissed off that the red on his uniform bleeds blood.
“Threatening another is cause for suspension, Blake. I wonder what the press would say.”
I scoff at the lack of confidence in his voice alone.
“Tell them, and we shall see, won’t we?”
I’m done with this worn-out man who will be lucky to see ten minutes of play time the entire year, yet he keeps pushing.