The Debt 12 (Club Alpha) (2 page)

I
didn’t mean to say that.
 
I didn’t
mean to doubt you.

But she had doubted him and there was no
pretending otherwise.

Chase wiped his lips with his thumb, back
and forth, seemingly lost in thought.
 
Finally, he looked at her.
 
“I didn’t think I’d have to justify myself to you, Faith.”

“I’m sorry I said that.”
 
She looked down, picking at a loose
thread on the couch.
 
“I didn’t mean
it.”

“Obviously, you did.
 
You said your true feelings,” Chase
replied.
 
“For someone with your
name, you sure don’t live up to it very well.”
 
He pushed her feet off his lap and stood
up.

“Chase, please,” Faith cried out, and
then reached out to take his hand.
 

He pulled easily away from her grasp and
started walking in the opposite direction. He finally turned towards her again
from across the room.
 
“You’re just
as bad as the rest of them—the press, the fucking media and players.
 
All the people who want to see me fail,
who judge me.
 
I thought you’d be
different, but you’re not.”

Faith got up.
 
“I said it because I know something’s
wrong,” she told him, her voice shaky but loud in the room.

He put his hands on his hips.
 
“Something’s wrong?
 
Like the fact that I have millions of
people watching and commenting on my every goddamn move?”

“No,” she said.
 
“Something else.
 
And I’m…I’m scared.
 
I’m scared you’re hiding a secret from
me—“

“I have too many to count,” he replied,
his dark eyes blazing at her.
 
He
walked slowly towards her.
 
“Which
secret do you want to know, now, huh?” he said, his voice a low growl.
 
“Or do you just want to tear my fucking
heart out of my chest and save yourself some time?”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you,” Faith
said, her skin in goose bumps, her heart pounding.
 

“Then why are you torturing me?” he
asked.

“Because, I want to know what happened,”
she said.
 
“Tell me the truth about
why you lost the game.”

He was closer to her now, and his chest
was rising and falling quickly.
 
“Tell you the truth?
 
You
think there’s some big mystery?”
 
He
laughed and looked up at the ceiling.
 
“Sometimes athletes have a bad game.”

“No,” she replied.
 
“That’s not what this was.”

“Like you have any clue,” he said,
meeting her gaze again.
 
 

“I know what I saw out there, Chase.
 
Tell me what’s really going on.”

He stared at her for a long time, and now
his jaw was trembling with rage and his eyes were pained and furious all at
once.
 
“This is bullshit.”
 
He spun and walked to the wall and
kicked it, smashing a ragged, circular hole through it.

Plaster and paint chips sprayed
everywhere and Faith felt like running, but she didn’t run.
 

She stood her ground.

“Don’t try and frighten me by acting
violent, Chase.”

His shoulders instantly slumped and he
bowed his head.
 
“Christ, I’m as bad
as him.”

“As bad as who?”
 

“Velcro,” Chase muttered.

I
knew it was about Velcro.
 
I wasn’t
imagining anything.

 
“Go ahead,” she said softly.
 
“You can tell me.”

“I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see
at the hotel last night, when I went to give the damn phone back to Monique.” He
turned and looked at Faith, and his complexion had grown very pale.
 
“I took the stairs up to their floor and
when I went by the elevator, I saw them…I saw him.
 
Velcro, dragging her body out of the
elevator and into the hallway, and she was…she was unconscious.”

“I don’t get it,” Faith said.
 
“Are you joking?”

“No, I’m not joking,” he told her.
 

“Why was Velcro dragging her body out of
the elevator?” she said, her face a mask of disgust now.

“Because,” Chase answered, “Velcro hit
her and she lost consciousness.
 
There’s no other reason that makes sense.
 
I saw the bruising on her eye.
 
She didn’t just pass out or anything.”

 
“Oh no,” Faith said, closing her eyes and
swaying slightly.
 
“This is bad,”
she whispered.

“Me and Velcro started to get into it
right there, because I told him there was no way in hell I was going to leave
until I made sure Monique was okay, and he told me he was going to beat my ass
too if I didn’t mind my own business.”

Faith opened her eyes and saw Chase
anew.
 
He’d been courageous, and
she’d thought so little of him that she’d assumed his behavior during the game
was due to criminal reasons.
 
Instead, it turned out that Chase was upset because of what his teammate
had done to an innocent woman.

“But you didn’t get in a fight with him,
did you?” she asked.

“No,” Chase admitted.
 
His eyes were distant as he continued
the story.
 
“We were starting to get
loud and push each other and hotel security showed up.
 
Some other players stuck their heads out
to see what was going on, so there were witnesses.
 
Once security came, Monique regained
consciousness and she seemed okay, so I decided the situation was safe and I
left.
 
I told security to have the
police contact me for a statement.”

Faith went to him, then, and threw her
arms around him, pressing her cheek into his chest.
 
“I think what you did was amazing,” she
said, “and I’m sorry I doubted you.”

He held her in return.
 
“I shouldn’t have kicked the wall,” he
said.
 
“I never want you to be
afraid of me.
 
I’d never hurt you.”

“I know that,” she said.
 
“I’m not afraid of you, Chase.
 
Nobody’s ever made me feel as safe as
you make me feel.”

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of
her head as his muscular, warm body enveloped her in his embrace.
 
“I wanted to tell you everything,” he
said, “but I didn’t want to involve you in my fucked up life and all of my
problems.”

“But they’re our problems now,” she told
him.

He pulled back and looked at her.
 
“You don’t understand what you’re
saying.”

“Yes I do.”
 
She looked at him with an unwavering
gaze.
 
“I really do.”

“My problems are bigger than even I can
handle.”

“That’s exactly why we need each other,”
she said.
 
“So we can handle things
together, so we don’t have to do it all alone.”

Chase stroked her cheek and stared
lovingly into her eyes.
 
“You make
me want to be a better man.”

“You already are a good man—a great
man,” she corrected herself.

“Now you know why I wouldn’t throw a pass
to that piece of trash,” Chase said.
 
“I don’t even want to look at the guy anymore, and I shouldn’t have
to.
 
He should be suspended, kicked
out of the league.”

Faith thought about it, her concern
starting to grow.
 
“The police never
contacted you about it?”

He shook his head, breaking away from
her.
 
“Nope.”
 
He thought about it and laughed
hopelessly.
 
“I know there’s cameras
videotaping in the elevators and hallways, so I thought for sure it would be
seen and dealt with by the hotel—and they’d be obligated to call the
police.
 
But nobody contacted me, so
that makes me think that the police were never involved.”

“Well that’s not okay,”
Faith
said, her outrage growing as she realized what Chase
was telling her.
 
“He can’t just get
away with it.
 
Someone needs to tell
the authorities.”

Chase laughed.
 
“The authorities?”

“Yes,” she said, aghast.
 
“The police, the NFL, the
newspapers.
 
Whoever needs to be
told to get some justice for
Monique.
 
He’s an abuser and he needs to be
punished for what he did to her, Chase.”

“I know,” Chase said.
 
“You don’t think I’d like nothing better
than to tear his head off his shoulders?
 
But it doesn’t work that way around here, with pro athletes.
 
They’re protected in ways you can’t even
imagine.”

“It’s not right and we can’t just keep
quiet.”

“We?” he said, incredulous.

“I’m involved too,” she said.
 
“And I refuse to keep quiet.”

“No,” Chase said.
 
“This isn’t your battle.
 
It’s mine.”

“What do you mean?
 
What battle?”

Chase looked suddenly determined and she
could see the wheels turning in his head.
 
“You’re right that I can’t keep my mouth shut about this.
 
I’m going to go to see Coach and tell
him what happened last night.
 
This
needs to be dealt with and I’m going to damn well do something right for once
in my life.”
 

He went and pulled his coat on.

Faith suddenly realized that now that
Chase was doing what she’d hoped he might do, a big part of her wished he
wouldn’t.
 
“I’ll come with you,” she
said, reaching for her purse, but Chase was already shaking his head no.

“You can’t come,” he told her.
 
“I need to handle this alone.
 
It might take awhile and I don’t want
you sitting around waiting.
 
You
just hang here and I’ll be back before you know it.”
 
Chase started buttoning his coat.

“But I don’t want to be alone here.
 
I’m scared,” she implored.

He smiled and his eyes were softer, as if
his new direction had eased his mind somewhat.
 
“Listen, you hang here and take a bath,
read, watch some TV, and just try and relax.
 
When I come back, we’ll make up for lost
time.”

Faith nodded miserably.
 
Already she missed him fiercely.

Chase, sensing this, walked back over and
took her by the hips and gave her a sensual, long kiss that made her legs feel
weak.

“Hold tight, beautiful,” he told her, and
then he was leaving the apartment, and Faith was left in the quiet, wondering
once again what she’d gotten herself into.

***

She’d spent as much time as possible not
thinking about what might be taking Chase so long, or what had happened when
he’d reported to the team about what had transpired between Velcro and Monique
at the hotel the previous night.

But after she’d had a long bath, read a few
magazines, and then gotten out and spent time brushing out her hair, and
watching TV…the silence was becoming oppressive.

Night was falling and she’d texted him to
ask where he was and how much longer it would be.

What could possibly be taking Chase so
long? She wondered, and the anxiety started up.

The pit in her stomach became more and
more pronounced with every fifteen-minute chunk of time that went by without
hearing a word from Chase Winters.

Soon, the anxiety had turned to anger.

She got a text from Chase at about nine
o’clock at night.

Got
tied up with a few things.
 
Be home
later
.

Faith texted him back, asking for
details, asking exactly when he planned to come back, telling him that he
should’ve at least called because she was worried.

But he didn’t respond to any of her
texts, and when she called his phone, it went straight to voicemail.

She didn’t like it, not one bit.

Faith started reading all of the texts
that had been sent to her phone since the game had ended.
 
Many of them were people she knew—friends
telling her sorry, telling her to give their prayers to Chase, and that he
would be better next game.