OffsideChanceFormat2 (34 page)

“You’re
angry? Who are you angry with, Slayer?”
Bo held on to him and dragged him down to the ground.
“Me
or Jude or yourself? Decide who you’re going to take that anger out on before
you ruin the first decent thing in your life.”

“You
don’t know what I’m going to do. Fuck you, Bowen. You and your gay shit. And
and
… Oh, my god.”

“Admit
it. Out loud, Will. Say the words that have you freaking out.”

“I
can’t.” Will shoved him off and was sprinting across the yard before Bo could
even think about chasing after him. But the fucker’s laugh followed him as he
sprinted to the car. He slammed the door behind him as he started the engine
and sped away from Bo’s track. He wasn’t in love. Not with anyone. Especially
Jude fucking Brody.

And
he wasn’t fucking gay.

Chapter
Eighteen

The
drive home in rainy Friday afternoon traffic took Will more than an hour. By
the time he found a parking spot near the townhouse, he’d calmed down
considerably. He’d even decided that he wouldn’t kill Bo just yet. Tricking
Will into confessing anything had been a dick move. And Will was the only one
allowed to get away with dick moves. He grabbed his gym bag from the passenger
seat and locked the Rover.

Fuck,
it was Friday night and the sun wasn’t even down yet, and here he was coming
home like a good little soldier. Well, not tonight. He was going to march up
those stairs, shower, and go back out. Dinner, drinks, maybe a hotel with a hot
young thing. Time to get back in the saddle.

As
Will walked up the path to the front of the townhouse, he noticed that the
front door stood slightly open. Will froze on the doorstep knowing he had
locked everything when he’d left. It wasn’t like Jude to come home and just
leave the door open. Hell, he was more of a security freak than Will. He slowly
pushed the door wider and stepped inside as quietly as possible.

 
Jude’s leather messenger bag lay on the floor
near the staircase—the man was a neat freak, he never left anything but blue
pens lying around. And he would never leave his messenger bag anywhere out in
the open. He always took it straight upstairs to his room. Will had come to the
conclusion that he carried the secret to world peace or the formula for
Coca-Cola in that thing.

Voices
echoed down the narrow hallway that led past the parlor and into the kitchen.
Every hair on his body stood on end. In the five or six weeks that Jude had
been here, he’d never once brought someone over. Levi’s black Challenger wasn’t
on the street, neither was Tracy’s Cherokee. And the front door was unlocked.
Will slowly closed the door and unzipped his bag. He quietly unsheathed the gun
he kept in an outside pocket. He left the bag beside

Jude’s, and with gun
in hand, crept slowly down the hallway toward the kitchen pausing to listen as
the voices became more distinct.

“Come
on, Brody, just tell me where you hid the rings, and I’ll get out of your hair.
I just want the rings.”

“What
good will the rings do you? You can’t sell them. Someone will know how you got
them.” Jude’s reply was calm, reasonable, and conversational, almost as if he
knew the other person and everything was fine. What rings would Jude have? Will
had never seen the man wear any jewelry, not even a tie pin.

“Doesn’t
matter, I just want the rings,” the intruder replied. Will knew that voice.
Fucking Aaron was in their kitchen, slurring commands while Jude sounded his
usual bored self. Why did Jude let him in?

“I
don’t know where the rings are. Just take the cash I gave you and go. I can’t
help you out any more than that,” Jude stated, still calm.

“Give
me the rings, Brody!” Aaron was fucked up on something. That much Will could
tell.

Will
slipped quietly down the hall until Aaron came into sight. He looked dirty,
like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. He had a knife in one hand, one of the kitchen
knives from Levi’s set. He was talking more to himself than to Jude and
gesturing wildly with the knife as his agitation grew. Jesus, this was fucked
up. His own fucking cousin holding his…friend hostage with a goddamned kitchen
knife. Well, at least it wasn’t a fucking gun. He had that much to be thankful
for at least.

“You
never told me how you know Slater.” Jude’s voice seemed to be coming from over
near the sink, far enough away from Aaron that if Will went in now Jude would
be in no danger.

“Slater?
Do you call him that while he fucks you? Of course, you could call me that, I
wouldn’t mind. You are kind of pretty. I’ve done worse. I’m bigger than he is.
Did he tell you that I used to…” Aaron turned toward the hall, his gaze landing
squarely on Will. “
Hola, Guillermo.
Bienvenido a casa!”

“What
are you doing here, Aaron?” Will ignored his cousin’s bad Spanish and kept the
gun pointed toward the floor as he walked slowly into the kitchen. A quick
glance to his right told him that Jude was fine. He stood behind the table, he
seemed calm.

“Just
chatting with your boyfriend. He’s thinking about letting me see his Super Bowl
rings. You never would.” Aaron looked so much older than he had just a few days
ago. His face was thinner, almost to the point of being gaunt. He’d been the
golden boy once upon a time with boy-next-door good looks. Will had envied him
that as kids, but now Aaron looked more like Will’s father than Will did.

“You
know he’s not Levi, right? He doesn’t have any rings to show you.” Will tried
for the same bored conversational tone that Jude had successfully been using to
keep the situation from escalating.

“Fuck
you, G, this is Brody’s house and that’s Brody. He doesn’t look like much in
person, but I hear he’s a pharmaholic now that he ain’t a big shot no more.”
Aaron sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Hey, G, remember
when we used to play back at Dade?”

“That
was a long time ago, A. I thought you said you were going back. I gave you
money so you could go home. My mom asked about you. Your moms is worried, man.
She wants you to come home. They want to help you.” Will kept the gun down
until Aaron made a move for Jude. Fuck, he moved fast, faster than Will
expected. Jude didn’t flinch when Aaron stuck the knife into his side.

 
“I just want the rings. Why couldn’t you give
me one? You have two, you wouldn’t have missed it.”

“I
will shoot you, Aaron. If you hurt him, I will kill you.” Will leveled the gun
in Aaron’s direction, keeping his gaze locked with his cousin’s.

“He’s
just a fag. The Reverend Grantham says all fags should be executed. What are
you doing shacking up with a fag, Guillermo? It looks bad.
Abuela
won’t like it when she finds out. And your dad will kick
your ass. I’ll be doing you a favor.”

“Let
him go, Aaron. My wallet is under my helmet by the door. I have about a grand
in it and my bank and credit cards. Take it, just take it and go. I don’t want
to hurt you, A. You’re my bro. But I’ll kill you if you don’t put the knife
down and go.” He aimed the gun at his cousin’s head. “Don’t make me kill you,
A.”

“A
thousand dollars,” Aaron pondered. He lowered the knife away from Jude’s side.
He looked toward the helmet sitting right where Will said it was. Though there
was no way that Aaron could not tell from his position, Will knew his wallet
wasn’t there but, fuck, he had to say something to get his cousin away from
Jude. “Sounds good. Enough to get me home. See my moms.”

“Just
put the knife on the table and take the money, Aaron. It’s okay, man. I swear,”
Will said watching as Aaron licked his lips and eyed the helmet. “Why don’t I
set you up a monthly account, you know, to tide you over until you get back on
your feet?”
What the fuck was he saying?
“You lay the knife down and step away from Jude, and we’ll talk about getting
you some money.”

“You’d
do that for me? You do owe me, G. I got you through school. I got you into the
NFL. You should pay me. Yeah. That’s good. About time.” Aaron eased the knife
over to the table and let it clatter onto the surface, Jude seemingly
forgotten. He edged toward the door, his gaze drifting between the helmet and
the gun Will kept pointed at him, because he didn’t want any surprises when his
cousin found out he’d been deceived. “I’m sorry about your house, G. It was an
accident. I was cold. You didn’t have any heat.”

“All
you had to do was turn the thermostat on. The heat would have come on.” He didn’t
want to think about what the dumb shit was really doing in the john with a
space heater. At least the fire marshal didn’t mention finding any drug
paraphernalia or his ass would have been in all kinds of shit.

“Yeah,
I forgot. That would have been good to know. And you shoulda had a tree. We
always had a tree growing up.” Aaron traced his fingers over the helmet. Will
allowed himself one quick glance over to where Jude stood rooted to the spot.
He was gripping the back of the chair so intensely that his knuckles were
white. Other than that, Jude seemed cool, calm, and collected.

“What
the fuck, G? There’s nothing here.”

“Get
down, Jude,” Will ordered the lawyer but Jude didn’t move a muscle.

Will
moved as fast as he could toward his cousin, gun still aimed. Aaron looked as if
he was about to lunge for the knife but then changed his mind when the reality
of Will barreling across the kitchen toward him sunk in. He held the helmet in
one hand and grabbed for the door knob with the other.

It
came open easily. “Run, asshole. I will not give you another chance to get out
of my life. Now run.”

Aaron
scrambled out the back door, taking the helmet with him and cussing Will for a motherfucker
the whole time. He stumbled down the steps into the courtyard and tripped over
cobblestones on his way to the gate. Will ran after him. When Aaron was outside
the gate, Will closed the wrought iron barrier and locked it. Aaron would have
to scramble over the seven foot fence or race around the block to the front
door to get back inside. Fuck, he’d left the front door unlocked. He ran back
inside, taking a moment to turn at least one deadbolt before he raced down the hall
to the front door and locked up there.

His
heart racing in his chest, Will returned to the kitchen.
Jude was still standing exactly where
Will had last seen him,
his face carefully
blank. “Put the gun down,” Jude asked calmly. Will looked at the weapon he
still held. He had pointed it toward Jude without realizing he was even still
carrying it. “Put the fucking gun down!” Jude shouted that time.

Will
put the safety on and carefully laid it in the middle of the table and stepped
away. “Sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. Aaron…yeah—”

“You
know him?” Jude had yet to release the chair. His knuckles were still white. He
still wore the frozen expression of someone unwilling to convey any emotion.

“He’s
my cousin. Why did you let him in?” Will tried not to think about Aaron and his
worsening addiction. He shouldn’t have to deal with his shit, the man was
thirty-three for fuck sake.

“I
didn’t let him in, he was already here when I came home. I thought you let him
in.” Jude relaxed his fingers only to grip the chair again. Tighter this time,
the legs came off the floor. “He wanted Levi’s Super Bowl rings. He didn’t
believe me when I told him I had no idea where Levi keeps them. And I don’t.
He’s a junkie.”

“Unfortunately.”
Will didn’t know what else to say to excuse his cousin. Fuck, there was no excusing
this latest episode. Or his house. He’d admitted to burning down Will’s fucking
house. Mother fucker. “He’s gone. We’re locked in tight now. It’s okay, Jude.
You did—“

“Don’t
patronize me, Will. You brought him here. He’ll come back.” Jude never looked directly
at him. His voice held the same hushed monotone as it had when Will had first
entered.

“Jude.
Come on. Let’s go—“

“I’m
not going anywhere with you.” Jude looked at him for the first time, and Will
saw nothing but terror in his eyes.

“Ok,
we’ll stay here. I’m good with that. Maybe fix something to eat. Are you
hungry?” Instead of going to the refrigerator, Will went to Jude. “Come on,
Jude. Let’s get a beer.” He rested his hands on top of Jude’s and stroked the
straining flesh. “Talk to me, Jude.”

“Fuck
off.” Jude stared hard at their hands, head bent now. He seemed paralyzed. “I
need you to move out. I can’t have you here. I can’t have your shit coming into
my life.”

“Okay,”
Will replied, resigned. This was for the best, he supposed. He’d get word out
that he wasn’t at the Royal Street house anymore. Aaron wouldn’t come back.
Jude would be safe from his shit. “I’ll go pack and get a hotel room
somewhere.” This was the best for them both. Jude was a distraction he didn’t
need. This was… bullshit. “I’ll check all of the windows and the doors
upstairs.

Tomorrow
you should probably get all of the locks changed. And I’ll get out of your
life.” He left Jude standing at the chair. No reason to wait.

“Don’t
leave me.” The plea was almost imperceptible, muffled by a thunder clap and the
sound of rain beginning to pour down outside. A curtain of the sudden rain
obscured the remaining light of the day, leaving them in near dark.