The Debt 11 (Club Alpha) (7 page)

“I do,” Chase said, nodding.
 
“And he’s a veteran that the entire team
respects.
 
But I wonder if he’s just
being nice to try and play the team captain role.”

“Who cares if that’s why?”

“Because,” Chase told her, his jaw
setting.
 
“It’s fake.
 
I don’t want some dude pretending to be
my friend because he considers it part of his job description.”

Faith understood.
 
“I still think we should try.
 
Maybe he’ll actually like you if he gets
to know you.”

Chase blew air out.
 
“Well, I am very likeable.
 
You make a good point.” He flashed her a
grin.

She smiled in return and looked into
Chase’s beautiful eyes.
 
“Try and
trust someone else,” she told him.
 
“It’s good for the soul.”

***

They went back up to the room and got
ready for Monique and Velcro.

Chase was wearing a button down shirt and
dark slacks, and the shirt was open a few buttons, revealing the broad expanse
of his upper chest.
 
The shirt
stretched out across his shoulders and was tight along the heavily muscled
biceps and forearms, to the point where Faith could see the cuts in his
musculature.

Faith was wearing a skirt, heels and a
white blouse.
 
She applied the final
touches to her makeup and then came out into the suite, where Chase was
standing at the window, holding a bottle of water and staring out at the
stadium.

She came up behind him.
 
“Are you thinking about tomorrow?” she
asked, hesitantly.

He shrugged.
 
“Miami’s no joke.
 
They’ve got one of the best defenses in
the league—maybe the best.”

“You’re going to do great.
 
I know it.”

He nodded but didn’t seem moved by her
conviction.
 
“So many people want to
see me fail,” he said, his voice almost a monotone, as if he was in a
trance.
 
“Sometimes I wonder what
people get out of it.
 
Seeing
someone fail.
 
Why do they like it?”

“Because,” Faith told him, “it makes them
feel better about their own failures.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her.
 
“Pretty smart, girl.
 
Pretty smart.”
 
He turned back to the window.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Maybe I’m just in a strange mood.
 
But right now, the whole thing just
seems so fucking pointless.”

“The game?”

“A bunch of adult men running around in
costumes, with goofy pads and helmets, smashing into one another, getting paid
millions while people cheer in the stands.”
 
He shook his head.
 
“It wouldn’t seem real if I didn’t live
it.”

“I thought you loved football.”

“I do, sometimes,” he said.
 
“Other times I hate it.”

She let her hands drift to his back and
then slid them around his waist.
 
“Things will feel different after the game.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they will.”
 
He turned slowly until he was facing
her, and then Chase leaned in and kissed her so tenderly.

Their lips lingered like that for a long
time.

There was suddenly a knock at the door,
and then laughter from outs in the hall.
 

Chase straightened up and went to the
door, opening it.
 
Monique and
Velcro came in, laughing, carrying bottles of wine.
 

“What were you two up to in here?” Velcro
said, pointing at Chase.
 
“Were you
hooking up, bro?
 
You can tell me.”

“Fuck off,” Chase said, but he was
grinning.

Monique gave Faith a big hug, and then
held a bottle aloft.
 
“We come
bearing gifts.
 
Now we just need to
put some music on in here.
 
It’s a
little dry, you know?”

Faith laughed and turned on the
television, finding the music stations and putting it on a pop channel.

As the music floated through the room,
Monique and Velcro poured their wine into glasses and handed them to Faith and
Chase.

Chase held out a hand and tried to
refuse.

“Dude,” Velcro said, looking fierce, “we
never hung out before.
 
And we’re
never going to ever hang out again if you act like some fucking choirboy.
 
We going to have a drink or two and have
a nice time, okay?
 
Okay?”

Faith found herself getting a little
nervous.
 
Chase was studying his
teammate’s face and he wasn’t smiling.

Velcro was staring back at him, and the
tension was building, as Velcro held the glass of red wine out towards Chase.

It was like an olive branch and Faith
knew that if Chase refused, the evening would be ruined.

Monique gave her a worried glance, as if
to beg her to do something.

“Oh, I’ll drink it,” Faith said, about to
grab the glass from Velcro’s hand.

But Chase took it first and drank a big
sip.
 
“Fuck it,” he said.
 
“I’m a big boy, I can moderate.”

“Yes!” Velcro shouted, raising his glass
and laughing in that deep baritone voice that was so infectious.

Monique and Faith broke into relieved
laughter as well. Faith took a different glass and clinked it with her new
friend.

They seemed to share an unspoken bond,
Faith decided.
 
It was strange when
you met someone and just had an instant connection—feeling as though
you’d known one another forever.

Faith found that she had that sense with
Monique, as the two of them instantly began talking and laughing like old
friends.

Monique started telling Faith about the
other players’ wives and girlfriends and how silly all the drama and cliques
were.
 
“I cant hang with most of
them, but I have to try and make an effort for Vel’s sake,” she said, gesturing
to her fiancé.

Velcro Jones and Chase were drinking over
by the window and talking, heads bowed close together.
 
Chase nodded and then let out a loud
peal of laughter that sounded so genuine, it shocked Faith.

“I can’t believe I just heard him laugh
like that,” Faith said softly.
 
“He’s been in a tense mood ever since we got here.”

“That’s Vel,” Monique said, shaking her
head in admiration.
 
“That’s why
he’s a leader.
 
He’s not the biggest
or the strongest, and he’s older than most of these guys.
 
He’s from a different time, a different
era.
 
He believes in making people
feel good.”

“And they all love him for it,” Faith
said, sipping her wine.

Monique tilted her head.
 
“They respect him, because he’s been
through it all.
 
But more than that,
he just likes people.
 
And he seems
to have a way of loosening everyone up, getting them to relax.
 
It’s why I love him.”

Faith watched Monique staring at her
fiancé and smiled, appreciating the obvious caring she displayed for
Velcro.
 

Chase was still grinning, and even though
Faith didn’t know why, it thrilled her that he’d made some kind of connection
with someone on the team. She hated thinking of him being so alone with
everyone against him.

“Is it hard watching the games, seeing Vel
get hit and knocked around?” Faith asked.

Monique’s smile died on her lips.
 
She studied her wine glass.
 
“The game is tough,” she said.
 
“It does something to them.
 
It…it changes people.”

“How so?”

“It’s violent,” she said, and looked up,
her gorgeous eyes locking on Faith, her gaze suddenly penetrating and almost
angry.

Faith felt a mysterious chill run through
her.
 
“But they know how to deal
with it,” she said, as if defending against Monique’s claim that Chase could
also be irrevocably changed.
 
“They’ve been playing football since they were kids.”

“This is different,” Monique told
her.
 
“This isn’t high school or
even college football.
 
I mean,
don’t get me wrong.
 
I love the game
and I see that
it’s his passion
,
it’s
his gift
.
 
But there’s a
cost, honey.
 
Don’t ever let them
tell you that they don’t deserve the millions they earn.
 
Every penny of that money is earned in blood
and tears.”

At that moment, Chase grabbed a box of
tissues off one of the tables and Velcro ran across the room, pretending to run
a passing route as if he was on the football field.

Chase tossed the tissue box in a high arc
and Velcro ran almost to the door of the room, one arm outstretched, turning to
look back over his shoulder as the tissues flew at him.

It looked impossible for him to reach it,
but then at the very last moment, his fingers outstretched and snagged the box,
pulling it in as Faith and Monique burst into cheers.

Clapping, Faith found herself thinking
that Velcro genuinely looked thrilled and proud, as if he’d just caught a pass
in the big game in front of thousands of screaming fans.

He spiked the box on the carpet and then
did his patented “Velcro
slide
” that he was known for,
before breaking into a hearty laugh.

Chase raised his arms and then ran across
the room in a few easy strides and gave his teammate a high five and they chest
bumped, both of them laughing.

The next hour or so, everyone just talked
and laughed like old friends.
 
Velcro told all kinds of funny stories about situations he’d seen in his
long career—dumb players, jerky coaches, games that went horribly wrong.

He was a funny storyteller who clearly
enjoyed the spotlight.

The only strange moment came near the
end, when Chase was standing near the window, getting himself a bottle of water
(he’d only had a glass or two of wine).
 
Monique was walking past him to go to the bathroom and he hadn’t seen
her coming, and took a step backwards just as she was walking behind him.

Monique bumped into him with a startled
cry, and then she grabbed his arm to keep
herself
from
falling backwards.

“Shoot,” Chase said, turning around.
 
“I didn’t see you there.”

“No, it was my fault,” Monique said,
shaking her head.
 
“I wasn’t
watching where I was going.
 
Too
much wine.”

“You okay?” he said.

“I’m fine,” she laughed steadying
herself
.
 
Then
she grabbed his arm again, feeling his shoulder and bicep.
 
“Jeez, and I thought Vel was
strong.
 
You’ve got arms like
Hercules.”
 

“Yeah, but Vel’s got that midget
strength,” Chase said, grinning.
 

Faith laughed and then turned toward
Monique’s fiancé, who was watching them with a distinctly unpleasant expression
on his face.
 
His lip twitched.
 
“You been overdoing it on the wine
again, babe,” he said, but his voice wasn’t jovial anymore.
 
His smile was forced.
 
“Maybe we should call it a night.”

“Really?” Faith asked them.
 
“You can stay,” she said.
 
“Right Chase?”

“Absolutely,” Chase said, his gaze
uncertain.
 
“Have another drink,
Vel.
 
Let’s talk about how we’re
going to tear it up tomorrow.”

“Nah, man.
 
I think I’m wiped.”
 
He walked over to Monique and grabbed
her by the wrist.
 
“Come on, baby.”

“I’m not ready to call it a night yet,”
she said.
 
“I’m having fun.”

“A little too much fucking fun,” Velcro
insisted, gripping her wrist tighter.

“Hey,” she said, jerking her arm away
from him.
 
“Lay off.”

“You’re drunk,” he rasped.
 
“Now don’t embarrass yourself.”
 
He started for the door.

“You’re the one embarrassing yourself,”
she said, her voice rising.