The Debt 11 (Club Alpha) (8 page)

Velcro threw the door open and it banged,
hitting the wall hard, making Faith jump.
 
She looked at Chase and he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Monique’s fiancé stalked out into the
hallway, as she folded her arms and glared at him, not having budged an inch.
 

“Come on,” Velcro said from outside.
 
“Let’s go!”

“Asshole,” she muttered, and then turned
toward Faith.
 
Her eyes
softened.
 
“I’m sorry about this,”
she said.

“No, don’t—don’t worry.
 
It’s been lovely,” Faith told her.
 
“We’ll do it again soon, okay?”

“Sure,” Monique said, but without much
conviction, and her eyes were filled with unshed tears as she rushed from the
room, and then the two of them disappeared out of view.

Chase came over to where Faith was
standing.
 
“I knew that was a
mistake,” he said.

“I just don’t understand what happened.”

“I called the guy a midget,” Chase said,
grimacing.

“Maybe not your finest moment,” she
admitted.

“We were all goofing around,” he
said.
 
“It was a joke.”

Faith thought about it, replaying the
incident in her mind.
 
“I don’t
think that was what got him so upset.”

“No?”

“No,” Faith shook her head.
 
“I think he got upset when Monique
touched you.”

“She stumbled into me.”

“And then she felt your bicep and started
going all goo-goo over it.”

Chase rolled his eyes.
 
“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Faith told him.
 
 

Chase’s eyes were hooded as he frowned
deeply.
 
“Stupid,” he
whispered.
 
“I knew I should’ve just
come up here with you, kept to myself tonight.”

“No, you did nothing wrong.”
 
Suddenly, out of her peripheral vision,
a small blue object caught her attention.
 
It was wedged between the couch cushions, and she crossed over and
picked it up.
 
“Shit, I think this
is Monique’s cell.”

Chase stared up at the ceiling.
 
“Great.
 
Fucking great.
 
Let me see it,” he said.

She handed him the phone.
 
“Should I bring it back to her?” she
asked him.

“I’ll do it,” Chase said.
 
“Their room is just up a couple
floors.
 
I’ll run up there now,” he
said, starting for the door.

“I’ll come too,” Faith said.

“No,” he told her.
 
“I don’t like the way he’s acting and
I’m not putting you in danger.”

“Chase—“

He opened the door.
 
“I’ll be back in two minutes.
 
I’ll take the stairs and be back before
you can snap your fingers.”

And then he left.

Faith stood there, a horrible sensation
of sinking doubt in her stomach.
 
She snapped her fingers, alone in the empty room.
 
 

Staring around the room at the half-empty
wine bottles and wine glasses with Monique’s lipstick smeared on the rim, and a
few crumpled napkins—it looked like the ending of some sad little party.

And it felt that way, too.

Somehow they’d all gone from having a
wonderful time together, to this ugly scene that made her feel dirty inside.

Monique and Velcro had seemed so nice,
and they’d been the only one’s willing to try and cross the divide between
Chase and the rest of the team.

Now things were worse than ever.

But maybe not, Faith thought, as she
picked up the bottles and carried them into the kitchenette, where she dumped
the wine into the sink.

Maybe
when Chase goes up and meets them to give Monique back her cell
phone—maybe they’ll talk and laugh and everything will be okay again.

But it was hard to really imagine that
happening, not with how angry the two had been just minutes before.

Everything
always seems to turn dark
,
Faith thought, as she continued cleaning.
 
Everything starts out promising
and then somehow takes a turn into a dim alleyway
.
 
It’s
like Chase is cursed—or maybe we’re cursed as a couple.

Shadows were crowding into her mind, and
she tried to stay positive, but it was difficult.

Remembering the break-in earlier that
day, and Boogie stealing his money and making veiled threats…and Club Alpha,
hovering in the background, ready to pounce at any opportunity.
 

Chase’s secrets seemed to be piling up
and who knew where they would lead in the end?

How could she and Chase ever survive the
perils of his complicated life?

Just as she was mulling all this over as
she straightened up the room, Chase opened the door and came inside, and then
quickly shut it and held one hand against the door, as if bracing himself.

He’s
sick
, Faith thought, as
she ran towards him.

“What’s wrong?” she gasped.

He shook his head.
 
“Nothing,” he muttered.

“Chase,” she said, folding her arms.
 
She was holding a crumpled napkin in one
hand.
 
“What happened?
 
Tell me.”

Chase didn’t turn around.
 
He was still facing the door, head
bowed.
 
“It…it was fine.
 
I gave the phone back.”
 
Finally, he did turn, but he didn’t look
at her.
 

“Did they seem okay?”

“Stop asking me a million questions,
Faith,” he said, walking past her so quickly she could practically feel a
breeze when he went by.

“A million questions?
 
I just—“

“I know,” Chase said, moving towards the
bedroom.
 
“I know
,
you just want to make everything okay.
 
But it’s not okay, and I can’t fucking think about this shit
anymore.”
 
He continued into the
bedroom and Faith followed him.

“What’s not okay?”

He spun around and the look on his face
was cold and furious.
 
“I shouldn’t
even have had that damn phone, and I wouldn’t have.
 
Except you encouraged me to be friendly
and have a few drinks,” he said, glaring at her.

“Why is that bad?” she said.
 
“Why is that my fault?
 
Because they got drunk and couldn’t
handle their liquor?”

“Yeah, that’s why,” he said, shaking his
head in disgust.

“If something happened—“

“Just stop,” Chase told her.
 
“I’m taking a shower and I really don’t
want to talk about this shit.
 
I’ve
got a game in the morning and I’m not letting anything fuck with my head
anymore.”
 

“That’s nice.
 
Well, thanks for inviting me!” Faith
called after him.
 
“I’m so glad I
came!”

He ignored her, going into the bathroom
and slamming the door.

Faith felt her insides burning up with
anger.

Who
does he think he is?
 
Why is he
being such an asshole?

She was furious but there was nothing she
could do about any of it.
 
It was
very obvious that things hadn’t gone well when he’d returned Monique’s phone,
but since he refused to tell her what happened, Faith was in the dark.

Yet again, in the dark.

All
he does is keep secrets.

Maybe
that’s just who he is, Faith.
 
Are
you okay with that?

She didn’t really know.
 
She walked out of the bedroom and into
the lonely suite, where she sat on the couch and took out her phone.
 

There were dozens of texts from friends
and family that she still hadn’t read.
 
But for some reason, out of everyone she could’ve talked to, she only
wanted to speak to her sister.

 
 
Faith called Krissi and waited, sitting
on the couch with her legs curled beneath her.

“Where are you?” her sister asked
immediately.
 
“Everyone’s freaking
out about you and Chase Winters.”

Faith sighed.
 
“Calm down, please.
 
I need you to just be my sister, not
some Chase Winters fanatic.”

“Oh,” Krissi said, her tone
changing.
 
“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, as the tears
started to surface.
 
The look of
anger and almost hatred on Chase’s face a few minutes ago had been so
ugly.
 
“I don’t think I’m okay,” she
whispered, and started to cry.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m…I’m not sure.”
 
The words and thoughts were all jumbled
in her mind as she tried to explain.
 
“I’m with Chase Winters at a hotel near the stadium, because he’s got a
game tomorrow.”

“You’re with him right now?” Krissi
asked, her voice sounding awed.

“He’s in the shower.
 
But that’s not the point…he’s just
angry, and I don’t know why.
 
I
don’t know what to do.”

“He’s mad at you?”

“Yes.”

She started to sob, thinking about how
cruel his eyes had been, how cold his voice as he’d blamed her for the way his
teammate and Monique had behaved.

Krissi sounded surprisingly calm.
 
“Just tell me what happened, Faith.
 
Everything’s fine, I promise.”

And her younger sister’s maturity caused
Faith to dry her eyes and start trying to tell the story.
 
She started with Chase inviting her to
come stay with him tonight, and then she explained about the way his teammates
had acted at dinner.
 
And finally,
she told Krissi about having drinks with Monique and Velcro and how it had all
ended, with Chase coming back to the room with a giant chip on his shoulder.

When she was done talking, Faith felt
unburdened, like she’d just confessed her sins or something.

“Wow,” Krissi said.
 
“That’s a lot of stuff.”

You don’t even know the half of it, Faith
thought.
 
But she didn’t say it.

“Tell me about it,” Faith said instead.
 
She could vaguely hear the sound of the
shower through the walls.
 
She
suddenly imagined Chase in the
bathroom,
naked, and
wished she could join him like they’d done earlier in the day.

But now he seemed to want nothing to do
with her.
 
He’d probably throw her
out if she tried to come in and be with him.

“But you know all couples argue
sometimes,” Krissi told her.

“This was different.”

“Are you sure?”

Faith thought about it and sniffled.
 
“I’m sure.
 
Something happened and he didn’t want to
tell me what it was.
 
And he blamed
me for it.
 
It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not fair.
 
He shouldn’t treat you badly, I don’t
care how big of a superstar he
thinks
he is.”

Faith smiled.
 
“He
is
a superstar, though.”

“Oh, who cares, really?” Krissi said.

That made Faith giggle.
 
“You care.
 
Mom and Dad.
 
Everyone I know cares that I’m seeing
him.”

“Well, that’s because this town is
fucking boring as sin and nobody has anything better to do than stick their
noses into everyone else’s business.”

“I care about him a lot, Krissi,” Faith
said, her smile fading.
 
“But he’s
got a lot of baggage.”

“What kind of baggage?”

She thought about telling her some of it,
and then realized she couldn’t betray his confidence that way.
 
“I can’t really get into it.”

“Are you in danger?
 
Is he, like, threatening you or
something?” Krissi asked, her tone sounding more concerned now.

“No, no, it’s nothing he’s doing to
me.
 
He’s just got a complicated
past and I’m worried that we can’t make it work.
 
Everything between us is so weird and
unequal.
 
He’s this huge star, and
everyone wants a piece of him, and he can’t trust anyone.
 
Not even me.”