OffsideChanceFormat2 (37 page)

“I
saw the parlor and the den. How bad can the upstairs be?” Levi gripped his
empty coffee mug, his shoulders slumped.

“The
damage in your room is… well, it’s like he had a personal grudge. It’s bad,
Five. Really bad. You wanted to redecorate, but I’m thinking this isn’t what you
meant,” Will said as Tracy poured coffee. The doorbell rang. “Who the fuck is
that?”

“Bo
and Dylan. I thought they could help put things back together,” Levi explained,
taking the pot from Tracy while Tracy moved to answer the door. Levi filled five
mugs. Will hadn’t even noticed the additional mugs on the table.

“Fuck,
man. I’m just completely exhausted. Not thinking straight. We stayed in the ER
until around seven this morning before they decided he could go home. He’s
doped up right now, but he’s going to be in pain later. Stupid fucker. What if
I hadn’t gotten here in time, Five? What if Aaron… He thought Jude was you.
What if he decided to do to Jude what he did to your room?” Will couldn’t stop
replaying everything in his head. Levi reached for his hand and squeezed.

“He
didn’t. Jude wouldn’t have just stood by and let him. He knows how to take care
of himself.”

“Against
a crackhead with a vendetta?”

“He’s
a criminal lawyer, Will, he’s seen shit neither one of us has. He goes to the
prisons. I know he’s had self-defense classes. I know he’s proficient with a
weapon—“

“He
hates guns. Guns freak him out.” He remembered the terror in Jude’s eyes.

“Breakfast,
if anyone is interested,” Bo rang in, his overly cheerful morning voice distracting
Will from his panic. The scent coming from the takeout bags made him gag. Bo’s
tone changed upon fully entering the kitchen. “Why does this feel like a
funeral?”

“Jesus,”
Will cried, stumbling up from the chair and went to lean against the sink.
“Don’t talk like that okay. Just… I’m not ready for jokes yet.”

“Jude
was stabbed in the break in. No one told Levi,” Tracy explained to the
newcomers, and all color drained from Bo’s face.

“Oh,
my god. I’m sorry,” Bo said, shocked, and it was clear from his expression that
he had no idea how to respond further to the news.

“He’s
ok, he’s upstairs asleep,” Will said to alleviate the shock and concern of the
guests. “And we’re going to be quiet and let him sleep. So whatever you’re aiming
to do here, please do it as quietly as possible.” Will scraped his hands
through his hair. Fuck if he was going to be able to handle this right now.

“Maybe
you should join him,” Tracy said, taking charge of the decisions. “We’ll catalog
the damage and clean up. It shouldn’t be a big deal. That’s why we came. To
help.”

Will
shook his head. “I’m just tired. I know. I feel like I let Levi down. This is
my shit coming home to roost, you know. I’ll pay for it. Whatever it takes to
make it up.”

“This
is Aaron’s shit. You can’t keep paying for his fuck ups.” Levi slammed his hand
on the table. “He’s cost you a house, and how much money over the years?”

“He
took my rings,” Will whispered, trying not to think about the loss. It was his
own fault for not putting them in a safe deposit box. “I had them in the
dresser upstairs. The only things that survived the fire, and that fucker took
them. I didn’t tell Jude. The cops know. Doesn’t mean I’ll ever get them back.”

“It’s
not like he can sell them. That would throw up too many red flags.” Bo opened
the take out bags and handed Will an egg sandwich. “Eat something. You look
like shit.” Will didn’t want food, but his stomach had other ideas. “Yeah.
Sure.”

“Damn,
it’s bad. He’s not arguing or cussing me out or anything,” Bo teased, sinking
into the chair Will had abandoned. Dylan sat beside him, leaving Will and Tracy
standing by the sink.

“He
was the big spoon to Jude’s little spoon when we came in. It was sweet,” Tracy
cooed as he plucked Will’s sandwich from his fingers and stole a bite.

“Asshole,”
Will said, but couldn’t fight the laugh at the big man goofing with him. He’d never
actually seen Tracy out of his coach persona. Except for the time he happened
upon him boning Levi, but he preferred not to think about that. “I was going to
eat that.”

“Get
your own,” Tracy commanded with a smirk, but the smirk faded as he looked toward
the hallway. Will followed his gaze to find Jude standing just inside the
kitchen looking pale and dazed.

Will
didn’t care what anyone said or thought, he edged around the table to wrap Jude
in his arms. “I tried to get them to keep it down.”

“It’s
okay. I’m thirsty.” Jude’s speech was slurred, his eyes dim from the meds. He
tucked his nose into Will’s neck and let Will hold him up. “What’s going on?”

“Just
breakfast. Are you hungry?” Will cupped his face in shaking hands so that he
could search his eyes for any sign of pain. “Are you hurting?”

“No.
Just thirsty. I’m fine.” He walked toward the refrigerator, taking slow
trudging steps. He winced when he pulled the door open, and what little color
had remained in his face disappeared. “Is there juice left or are we out?”

“Look
in the door.” Will took a glass from the cabinet and, reaching around Jude,
found the orange juice carton and poured. Jude stood with the glass; he seemed
unsure what to do with it so Will helped him into the remaining chair and stood
behind him.

“This
is nice,” Jude said dopily. He propped his elbow on the table and leaned his
chin in his hand. “Long way to drive for breakfast.”

“Yeah,
well, it is Mardi Gras and everything. Why wouldn’t we drive over?” Levi cast a
bemused glance first at Jude then Will, his smile slowly taking over his whole
face, like the Grinch at the moment he decides to wreck Christmas. Will knew
from that smile that Levi had in that moment decided that Will’s life was now
and forever going to be a living hell. “I like to see my little brother all
settled and domestic.”

“Aw,
hell, Five, you had to go there?” Will wasn’t going to hurt Jude by being an
ass. But it didn’t mean he had to accept the teasing.

“You
should know better than anyone else, Slayer. If you show weakness in front of
him he’ll use it against you,” Jude mumbled into his hand, turning slowly to
gaze at Will with eyes that were not as dulled as before.

“Aww,
Jude is calling you ‘Slayer’ now. Must be love,” Levi cooed, satisfaction in
his eyes. And then he remembered why he was here and lost some of his sparkle.
“Okay, no more fucking around. Let’s get it over with so we can get on with
getting on.”

“Can’t
be worse than the front room,” Dylan Sunday said quietly from his seat, leaning
over his mug as if he were a pit-bull on guard duty and the coffee was his
greatest treasure. Will had seen him do this countless times. Over the past
season he’s studied the man trying to find out what made him tick. He couldn’t.
He always wore the same impassive expression except when he was with Bo. With
Bo he seemed almost human. On the field he was a demon. Will wondered what he
would be like with a weapon in his hands and shivered. As if he knew Will was
studying him, Dylan looked up from his coffee and held his gaze. A chill often
raced down Will’s back when he was unfortunate enough to make eye contact with
the man during practice, but this time he felt some sense of relief.

“You’d
be wrong,” Will corrected. “The front parlor seems almost an afterthought.
Upstairs is… Just be prepared for it, that’s all I have to say.” Will stepped
back from the table and motioned for everyone who was going on the grand tour
of the destruction to proceed without him. The two couples departed the
kitchen, and only Jude remained, still sitting dopily at the kitchen table with
his chin resting on his hand.

Will
knelt down beside him and cupped his cheek when they were alone. “You should be
sleeping off the meds.”

“I’m
fine, very sore, but fine. I’ll sleep later.” Jude didn’t make a move to follow
his brother upstairs. Instead, he took Will’s hand in his and leaned closer
toward him. “Thanks,” he whispered just before he grazed his lips across Will’s
mouth.

“For
what?” Momentarily stunned at the PDA, Will couldn’t think of a single thing
for Jude to be grateful for.

“Don’t
know. When I think of something I’ll let you know.” His mouth tilted up at the
corners, almost shyly before he suppressed the emotion. “If you don’t mind, I’d
rather not see the damage in the bright light of day.”

“Honestly,
I don’t relish the thought it either. But…I feel like I should be there.”

“Do
me a favor while you’re upstairs? Look in my briefcase and bring back my day
planner. It’s a brown leather book. I think I left my case on your dresser. I
can’t really remember.”

“Not
a problem.” Will sighed, wondering why Jude was thinking about work at a time
like this. But then, he seemed to always be thinking about work. “Be back in a
minute.”

They
heard Levi’s wail from upstairs all the way on the ground floor. Jude ducked
his head over his coffee much the same way Dylan had his coffee. As if he was
trying to find a way to climb inside and stay there. “Go. Just…go,” Jude sighed
with resignation.

Will
was up the stairs in seconds. They say that everything looks better in the
morning.

Well,
they were wrong.

*
* * * *

Armed
with his personal phone directory and the local phone book Jude sat at the
table making calls to old contacts from his real estate flipping days. By early
afternoon most of the damaged furniture had been removed. He’d managed to find
an antiques dealer that specialized in restoration which made Levi happy.

But
the news wasn’t all good, Levi’s canopy bed had been declared DOA The furniture
in the den was donated or completely trashed. Levi’s TV had a hole in it and
would have to be picked up by a hazardous waste company. His vanity would need
a new mirror, well an old mirror and a new frame built to look like the original.
The actual vanity had been spared for the most part. A few crowbar claw marks
in the wood but those could be buffed out. His armoire was iffy. They were
going to do their best. The furniture from the parlor just needed to be
reupholstered.

That’s
where they found the crowbar, shoved behind the fireplace screen that blocked
the bricked up fireplace. The detectives from the night before came to take the
weapon into evidence. With most of the furniture gone, and the décor that
survived stored away in boxes until later the house seemed to grow colder as
the day wore on.

By
early evening, all that was left was the clean-up. Tired from just the bit of
work he’d managed to help with Jude retired to the front bedroom to rest, while
Dylan kept him company.

“He
was here a long time,” Dylan remarked as he boxed up Levi’s team memorabilia
for the trip back to Alabama. “He had time to pick and choose. I think he
started in the den, which would make sense. He was looking for small valuables.
The crowbar was just handy enough for pounding something when he couldn’t find
anything easy to carry.”

Jude
leaned against the headboard holding a pillow over his stomach. The furniture
he’d bought years ago had been spared. “He took Levi’s rookie card,” Jude
realized. “It was in a frame on the dresser. I framed it. I was so damned proud
of him.”

“Is
there anything else missing?” Dylan asked, working with an efficiency that
fascinated Jude. He packed the box quickly, neatly, and then hauled it into the
hall and moved on to the next. Jude was exhausted just watching him. “You look
like you’re in pain.”

“Some.
I don’t like to be sedated. I’ll live.” He felt useless just sitting against
the wall while the man with one leg worked circles around him.

“You
should try to eat something at least. And move. The more you work through it,
the

faster
you’ll recover.” It sounded like good advice. “At least that’s what the doctors
all say. But they never had a blade shoved into something soft. Hurts like a
bitch.”

“You
know this from experience, I take it?” Jude asked without thinking. The drugs
from the hospital were still pumping through his system, making him loopy.
Dylan simply raised an eyebrow in his general direction and Jude realized his
mistake. “How silly of me, of course, you know.”

“More
or less how I lost my leg.” Dylan shrugged, moving on to the next box. “I took shrapnel
just above my ankle, through my boot. When they took us, I didn’t notice the
pain at first. Blood pooling in my socks was my first clue. They thought it was
a hoot to keep the wound open to allow it to slowly fester and poison my leg.
I’m fucking lucky I kept my knee.”

Jude
nodded, trying not to imagine the hell Dylan had gone through. He’d seen
pictures of the man before his captivity. He’d been larger, healthier, more
vibrant in the Super Bowl reunion photo that had made the front page of all the
papers. This man standing beside him was a pale shadow of the man he’d once
been. Which made Jude feel even worse for sitting on his ass and doing very
little to help. “Right now I feel like my stomach is on fire. Every time I move
I have to talk myself out of vomiting. Not sure I can handle food right now.”