by Andrew Grey
The black, marble-walled lobby was a hub of activity. “Can I help you gentlemen?” a hotel employee asked as they approached the sports bar area.
“Is the restaurant open?” Obie asked, eyeing the quieter area beyond.
“Yes. Let me show you to a table.” She led them through to a much more evening-themed area that was quieter and more gently lit. They sat down in the comfortable chairs, and their server approached, taking drink orders and handing them menus.
Obie sat back, watching Bri as he mused over the menu. It was a little expensive, and Obie wondered if they should just go to the sports bar for a burger. “I want the New York strip,” Bri said. “I need some steak. They have great salads and a few portobello dishes. Just get whatever you want.” He seemed happy, and Obie settled on a nice salad and portobello mushroom lasagna. They gave the server their orders, and she brought bread.
“We have the entire place to ourselves,” Bri said quietly. “I like that.”
“Do you go out often?” Obie asked, as a man and boy walked through the restaurant.
“Mr. Early,” the boy said, and Bri pasted on a smile, turning as they approached. “Can I have your autograph?” He must have been seven, and Bri signed the paper for him. “Thank you.” He gave Bri a missing-front-teeth smile, clutching the paper.
“We saw you at the charity game,” the father said, beaming at Bri. The kid pointed at Obie, whispering to his dad.
“He was there too. He won the ball.” The boy practically bounced on his heels.
“I tried to get one of the balls for him, but wasn’t able to make the shot.”
“Obie and I will be here for a while. If you want to get a ball, I’d be happy to sign it for you. Just don’t tell anyone.” Bri winked, and the boy jumped, pulling his dad out toward the front door. Apparently, they were going shopping.
“That was very nice of you,” Obie said.
“I would have given them a ball if I’d had one. I usually keep a couple in my trunk, just in case.”
Obie shook his head. “I know it’s not what most guys do, but being nice to your fans is a small price to pay.”
“Yes, it is.” He couldn’t help smiling.
“Mr. Early,” the boy called from across the room ten minutes later, running toward their table with a ball in his hands, still in the box. “Will you really sign it?”
“Of course,” Bri said. “What’s your name?”
“Zack,” he answered exuberantly, and Obie hid his smile behind his water glass.
Bri signaled the server and asked if they had a Sharpie or something permanent. She returned with a thick-tipped black pen, and Bri inscribed the ball, signing and dating it for him. “There you go. I hope you enjoy it.” Bri handed back the ball and shook Zack’s hand. “You take good care of your dad, okay?” He nodded and hurried to where his father waited nearby, showing it to him and half skipping back toward the lobby.
Obie couldn’t help chuckling softly to himself, watching him go. The server’s black pants and shirt passed in front of his gaze, and then she placed his salad in front of him. It looked amazing, and Obie inhaled before picking up his fork. The mixed greens and poached pear made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Obie probably ate faster than he should have if he wanted to savor the tanginess, but he was too hungry to eat more slowly. “Man, this is good,” Obie groaned as he sat back. The server appeared, took his plate, and set down his lasagna and Bri’s entree.
It smelled heavenly, and Bri cut into his huge steak, humming his happiness as he ate. “They really know how to cook here.” Bri ate quickly, their conversation falling off as they both sated their hunger. When the time came, they declined dessert, and Bri charged the meal to the room. “There’s a sundry shop just around the corner off the lobby. Did you want to grab some snacks for later?”
“I’ll go see what they have.” Obie got up and left the table, striding through the lobby and around to the shop. He got some soft drinks, chocolate, and some other candy and nuts, paying and grabbing the bag. When he left the shop, he turned the corner to the elevator bay and saw Bri waiting for him. Only he wasn’t waiting.
As Obie watched, Bri stumbled slightly into the elevator—with Harvey’s hand on his back. Obie raced over, but the doors slid closed before he could get there. His heart sank and he swore under his breath, wondering what in the hell to do next. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to think.
Obie watched the display as the car rose, and pulled out his phone. “Dad, Harvey is here at the hotel and he just forced Bri into an elevator. They stopped at the twelfth floor according to the elevator readout, but I have no idea what room they’re in.” His legs shook as he began pacing.
“I’ll get people right over there. Stay in the lobby and wait for us. Do not try to go after him. Hang on.” The line went quiet and Obie waited a minute before his dad returned to the line. “I have people on their way. Just stay there.”
“But—”
“Obie, you could get hurt. Please just stay where you are and let us handle it.”
“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly, worried about Bri and what this madman would do to him.
Chapter 11
BRI GOT off the elevator on the twenty-fourth floor. Harvey had practically yanked him out of the first elevator and pushed him into another one, a knife pressed to his side. “I’m going to make sure you get what you deserve.”
Bri nearly stumbled as Harvey shoved him up to a door. He stood still, the point of the knife at his side dugging in with enough force to hurt, as Harvey opened the room and threw him inside. Bri managed to fall onto the bed without hurting his knee, but how, he didn’t know. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why?” The door banged shut. “You nearly killed my brother and you’re asking me why?” He stalked over to Bri, leaning over him, knife at the ready. He really thought he was going to die any second.
“I never hurt Willy. He and I used to sit up together sometimes and talk. But I never did anything to him. Your brother was a good man and I liked him.” Harvey’s eyes darkened and his hand shook in what Bri thought was rage. Bri figured logic and the truth weren’t going to get him anywhere. “What happened to him after he left school?”
“Of course you don’t know, Mr. Big Shot Basketball Player. He wasn’t important enough for you to find out.” Harvey yanked over the desk chair and sat where he could watch Bri, playing with the knife in his shaking hand. “After you all put that lavender shit in his room, he went into allergic shock and nearly died. You all thought it was funny. Willy came out of it, but his lungs were permanently damaged. He needed oxygen and help breathing for over a decade until he died, painfully.” He swiped the knife forward, and Bri jumped back. Harvey grinned evilly. “I admired you. But then this happened with Willy. I knew you were involved, but no, the golden boy got off and they found someone else to pin it on. They even got the guy to confess. No one was going to let the golden boy take the fall, not even one who might have been light in the loafers.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Security.” The voice sounded off, but Bri breathed a sigh of relief.
“You make a sound and I will gut you like a pig,” Harvey growled.
“We’re fine, come back later,” Harvey called through the door. There was no answer, and Bri’s spirit plummeted.
Another knock. “Sorry, can’t do that. We need to come in. There’s been a disturbance reported.” This time, Bri recognized the voice. What the hell, and how did Obie find him and get up here?
“You,” Harvey said, pointing the knife at Bri in a warning, “don’t move.” Then Harvey went to the door and opened it a crack. “I’m not decent. Can you come back—”
Harvey flew back as the door slammed open, Obie propelling himself inside the room. The knife dropped to the floor, and Bri caught a glint as it sailed along the carpet. Obie stood over Harvey, yanking him down and onto his stomach, digging his knee into Harvey’s back as he pulled his arms behind him.
<
br /> “That hurts,” Harvey groaned.
“Then you should think before you hold people I love at knifepoint.” Obie held still. “Bri, my phone is in my pocket.”
Bri hesitated, parsing what Oboe had just said. He grinned, letting the words sink in before fishing out Obie’s phone. Bri needed to do what he’d been asked to, but damned if he didn’t smile doing it. “I’ll call your dad.” He pressed the contact and the phone rang once. “James, it’s Bri. We have him. Room 2415. Hurry.”
“Son of a bitch. He didn’t wait, did he?” James swore. Bri turned to Obie, flashing him a smile.
“You should know him better than that. He’s fucking fearless.” And Obie had just said he loved him. Bri found it hard to breathe as he thought about it. “Just get here before he smears Harvey all over this carpet.” His only concern, now that his heart rate had slowed to something a little closer to normal, was that Obie was okay.
“Let me up. So, help me, I’ll sue you for everything you have.”
“Bullshit. You move, and I’ll break your back. So stay still. The police are on their way and they’ll take care of you.” Obie leaned a little closer. “You picked on the wrong guys, idiot.” Officers raced closer, their boots thumping in the hall, belts clinking.
“Freeze,” the officers called.
“It’s okay, guys,” Bri explained. “That’s Obie, the commissioner’s son. He got here first. The guy on the floor is the one you want. His knife is over here. No one but him has touched it.” Bri stayed back as James raced in as well. The officers took Harvey into custody, and the questions began from James, aimed at Obie with all the force of a hurricane.
“I’m fine, Dad,” Obie said, but his father didn’t look mollified in the least.
“How did you know where to find them?” James finally asked, his ears turning red with what Bri thought was growing anger.
Obie shrugged as though it were easy. “I simply explained to the woman at the front desk that my boyfriend had been kidnapped and the police were on their way. I described the man who had done it, and the lady said he had checked in an hour before. I may have used your name a little, and she got flustered and gave me the room number. I just pretended to be security that wouldn’t go away. When he opened it a crack, I kicked the door in and laid him on his ass. It was all pretty simple. I’m a policeman’s kid. You made sure I knew how to protect myself, Dad. And I did,” Obie explained as though it was nothing. Then he left the room and returned with a white plastic bag, handing it to Bri.
“Of course you brought the snacks,” Bri teased, holding it up and rolling his eyes. He set it back down on the bed. “Why don’t we let your dad and the police ask their questions so we can go home?” Two attempted kidnappings in the same day had his nerves on edge. As nice as this hotel was, he didn’t want to stay here any longer than he had to.
“That sounds like a plan to me,” James said and stepped back so the officers could do their job. They ended up back in their suite, where Bri got comfortable and explained what had happened.
“He appeared behind me. All I can figure out is that he followed us.” Bri sat back on the sofa, looking around the empty room. Obie always filled a space with life and warmth, and he’d come close to losing him. Hell, twice in a way, and it sent a chill through him that wouldn’t go away. Bri glanced toward the door again and then back at the officer as he answered question after question. Finally, the key clicked in the lock and Obie came inside, looking a little worse for wear. He came over and sat right next to Bri, winding his arm around his.
“Did he say why he’d done all this?” James asked as he followed Obie inside.
“He was Willy’s brother and he blamed me for what happened. Apparently, the stunt his roommate pulled damaged Willy’s lungs permanently.”
“Yes. It seems William Hamel passed away about six months ago. And that probably pushed his brother over the edge. He truly believes that you were the cause of his brother’s death. I requested a copy of the case file, and it was emailed over. The roommate admitted responsibility in the end, and did some time for what happened. The record shows that you weren’t involved, but I somehow doubt that in his state of mind, Harvey would be swayed by something as inconsequential as the facts.” James sat in one of the chairs across from them. “Do you have everything you need?’ James asked the officer who’d been questioning Bri.
“Yes, thanks. I’ll leave the three of you.” He got up and left the room, presumably returning to join the others.
“What now, Dad?” Obie said.
“Well, we have him pretty much dead to rights, but….” He slowly shook his head. “From here, we’ll have to let the courts decide. As for the two of you, you can stay in the hotel or go back home. We finished at the house and can connect him to what happened there. It’s up to you.” James leaned forward, a glare in his eyes that made Bri squirm. “It’s probably a bad time to mention it, but I assume you know what I’ll do if you hurt him.” James held his gaze.
“Dad, stop it.” Obie leaned closer, resting against Bri’s arm. “I really just want to go home.” He buried his face against Bri’s shoulder, and Bri held Obie’s hand a little tighter.
“Then I’ll call down and tell them that we’re checking out.” Bri spoke softly, but he’d do whatever Obie wanted. He didn’t move, scooting even closer and holding Bri a little tighter. Bri turned slightly, holding Obie in return. Bri barely registered that James had left the room, and they sat together in silence, holding one another.
“I never want to have a day like this again,” Obie muttered. “I was so scared. Dad told me to just wait in the lobby.” Obie lifted his face away, and Bri knew it was unlikely that Obie would ever do what he was told. Thank God. He had his own mind and was going to follow it.
“So was I,” Bri admitted. “At first, I was afraid for you, and then he kept poking me with that knife.” He took a deep breath and tried not to think about what could have happened and what he could have lost. “This whole ordeal has been way too much.” He never wanted to go through anything like that again.
Bri didn’t want to move. He was content and needed Obie in his arms. “I’m sorry I was so stupid,” Obie whispered. Bri wondered where that came from and turned to look at him. Obie’s gaze met his and then their lips met and Obie shifted, pressing harder against him.
Bri found it hard to breathe or think. Obie climbed onto his knees without breaking the kiss, pressing him down onto the cushions. He was starting to get a pretty good idea of what Obie thought he was sorry for. “Hey,” he said, holding Obie’s cheeks in his hands. “You’ve been through a lot in the last four hours. Are you sure about this?”
Obie paused, and Bri slowly sat back up. “We’ve both been running on adrenaline for hours, and….”
“Bri, I’m sure. I think this whole ethics thing was a way of keeping my distance because I’ve been scared. My relationships don’t usually work out, and you’re a famous basketball player. I kept wondering what you could possibly see in me. So I… I don’t know. I think I came up with this whole client/therapist thing to keep from getting hurt. I kept figuring you’d wake up any minute and run screaming from the house, but all I ever saw was just the opposite.” He sighed and hugged him, resting his head on Bri’s shoulder. “I just want to go home, I think, and then maybe you and I can talk and watch some television while I have a complete panic attack over how I took on a knife-wielding kidnapper all by myself and probably could have gotten us both killed.”
Yeah, Bri had made the right decision for now. All this excitement and adrenaline was going to take a toll on both of them. Neither of them needed to do something they’d regret. Besides, when he made love to Obie, he wanted it to be under more romantic, less desperate circumstances. “Okay. Let’s get our things and we can explain what happened. I’m sure the hotel will take care of things.” They probably would have if either of them had moved to ask. Instead, they sat silently together, holding each other for almost an hour.
“Did you mean what you said?” Bri whispered after a while. “Do you really love me?”
“Yeah.” Obie turned to him, swallowing, his throat working, and Bri knew he was anxious. “Ummm.”
“Sweetheart, I love you too.”
“So you don’t mind waiting until we can get you back on your feet and….” Obie bit his lower lip.
Bri nodded. “I’ll wait for you as long as you need me to.” He closed the distance between them, holding Obie even closer. Sex was one thing, but love, being loved, that was worth any wait.
Chapter 12
FOR DAYS, Obie was barely out of Bri’s sight. They both seemed to need to have the other one close. The two of them slept together, but nothing else had happened. Obie had finished up his morning appointments in his fully cleaned and newly sanitized therapy room. He’d had to wipe down everything Harvey might have touched in order to fully eradicate him from his workspace. With nothing to do, he paced the room, waiting for Bri to get back from the doctor.
He thought about doing some more cleaning, but figured he was getting a little obsessive. Obie had already been through the entire house, just in case Harvey had been in there, and cleaned everything to within an inch of its life. No dust bunny was safe from this jag.
“What did the doctor say?” Obie asked as he hurried toward the back door when it opened. Bri had replaced his car and no longer needed to use Uber to get around. Obie skidded to a stop as Bri came into the kitchen without his brace. “Good news, I guess.”
“Yes.” Bri leaned down and kissed him. “I don’t need the brace any longer, and he said that my knee had healed remarkably well. I have more movement in it than he ever expected.” His smile lit the room. “And that’s all because of you.”
“So what are you saying?” Obie asked.
“That I need to take it easy. But I saw the team doctor as well, and he sees no reason why I won’t be able to join the team for preseason workouts. I should be ready and able to play the regular season.” He engulfed Obie in a tight hug.