The Debt 12 (Club Alpha) (3 page)

From the texts that most folks sent,
you’d have thought Chase had been in some kind of horrible, disfiguring
accident rather than simply losing his second-straight football game.

Some people wrote nastier comments,
seeming to take their anger with Chase out on Faith.

Even her father had left a slurred,
rambling voicemail giving her a list of improvements that Chase needed to make
in his passing motion to fix his accuracy issues.

But it was the messages from her sister
that stood out.
 
In those messages,
there was only concern for Faith herself, and little to do with Chase.

Maybe that was why Faith found herself
calling her little sister, much the same as she’d done the previous day when
she’d been so upset.

“I was thinking about you,” Krissi
answered right away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before
now, but it’s been crazy,” Faith said.
 
She was curled up in the bedroom with the television on, but the volume
turned low.

“I figured, “ Krissi said.
 
“Are you doing better now?”

“I don’t know,” Faith said, sighing at
her own dramatics.
 
“Aren’t I
supposed to be the older, mature sister that you come to for advice?”

“Apparently not.”
 
Krissi laughed.

In the background on Krissi’s end, Faith
heard some shouting, as if off in the distance.

“Is Dad drunk again?” Faith sighed.

“Well, it’s Sunday and New England got
clobbered.
 
What do you think?”

“Don’t tell him you’re on the phone with
me,” Faith said.
 
“He keeps calling
and leaving messages about the things Chase needs to do to be a better
player.
 
I won’t talk to him when
he’s drunk and being ridiculous.”

“Forget about Dad,” Krissi said.
 
“Tell me about you.”

Faith rolled her eyes.
 
“Where do I start?”

“Start at what’s wrong.
 
Tell me the truth.”

“The truth is that there’s some bad
things going on with Chase, and I don’t know what to do about it.
 
He’s trying hard to fix the situation,
and it’s not even his fault, but I don’t know…” she trailed off, thinking about
how he’d disappeared and only texted her once since leaving to go talk to his
coach.

Krissi sounded calm but slightly annoyed
just the same.
 
“I can’t really help
when you won’t tell me the full situation, Faith.”

“I can’t tell you,” she admitted.
 
“It’s not something that I can take
chances with.
 
The stuff he’s let me
in on is very, very personal and serious.
 
Some of it could possibly impact his career forever.”

“But I’m not worried about him—I
want to know how its affecting you,” Krissi said, her voice more forceful.
 
“What about you?”

Faith slid up in bed, thinking more about
it.
 
“It’s affecting me pretty badly
at the moment.
 
Chase losing the
game today was just the tip of the iceberg.”

“And the things he said at the press
conference after?” Krissi said.
 
“People think he’s gone crazy.”

“They do?”

“Go on Twitter or read the news about
it,” Krissi said.

“No, I don’t think I should.”
 
But already she was turning the channel
to ESPN.

“I can’t imagine how he’s dealing, or how
you’re dealing with him.”

“I’m not really dealing with it.
 
It’s his battle to fight, not mine.”

“But not for long,” Krissi told her.
 
“Soon, these things will be on your
shoulders, too.
 
You’re his
girlfriend.”

Somehow, despite the fact that Krissi
wasn’t saying it as a positive, Faith still thrilled at the thought of being
Chase’s girlfriend.
 
She’d never
really thought it could happen to her and yet here it was.

“I am his girlfriend, aren’t I?”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful.
 
You can’t fix him, Faith.”

“I know.
 
I know I can’t.”

Krissi let that point go and they spent
the rest of the conversation talking about Krissi and school and what her plans
were.

It was a relief to forget about Chase
being gone and not knowing where he’d
disappeared to.
 
It was nice to think about someone other
than herself or her mysterious boyfriend, if just for a few moments.

***

It was late when the front door opened.

Faith had dozed off in the bedroom, and
she jumped when the door creaked open and she heard voices and laughter.

Immediately, her stomach lurched and she
felt very afraid.
 
Someone had
broken in again and there was nowhere to run.
 
She grabbed for her phone and saw a text
there from Chase that she’d missed because she’d been sleeping.

Be
home in a minute
.

He’d sent it just around half an hour ago.
 
Still, it was little consolation, and
she was furious thinking about how unconcerned he’d been with her waiting
around for him all
night
without a clue as to where he
was.

The voices downstairs grew more raucous.

“Baby?” she heard Chase yell, and then
whoever was with him laughed.

Faith felt another shot of fear rushing
through her body, and she wondered why.
 
Why was she scared when she knew Chase was down there?
 
Whoever he was with—it didn’t
matter.

Chase would never hurt her and he’d never
let anybody hurt her.

But she was afraid, and that made her
even angrier.

She walked out of the bedroom and looked
down the stairs to see a shock
that almost made her turn
and run.

Boogie was standing there with Chase, and
the two of them were both holding beer cans and their eyes were bloodshot, as
if they’d been partying together.

“There you are,” Chase said loudly, and
she knew instantly he was drunk.
 
It
reminded her of her father, and that made her stomach turn sour.

“Here I am,” she said, raising an eyebrow
and folding her arms.
 
“I guess you
figured I’d be dumb enough to wait around for you.
 
Turns out you were right.”

“Baby,” Chase said, holding out his
arms.
 
“Don’t be like that.”

“Aw, she’s just a little bit mad,” Boogie
said, swigging from his can and pulling out what looked like a cigar and
stuffing it in the corner of his mouth.
 
“You know how the lady-folk get when their men go out partying at night
and leave ‘em home alone.”

“Lady folk?” Faith said, her tone
acid.
 
“You don’t even know a thing
about me.”
 
She turned to Chase, who
was smirking like a guilty teenager.
 
“And you brought him into the house after what he did…the guy broke in
and stole from you.”

“I told you, it’s complicated,” Chase
said as he walked up the stairs.
 
“Don’t be mad.
 
Let me
explain.”
 
His voice was thick and
his words slightly slurred.
 
His
eyes were glassy.

On the first floor below them, Boogie was
lighting up his cigar with a blue lighter and puffing on the stogie with a
smirk.

Faith turned and walked upstairs away
from Chase—and Boogie blew a large plume of smoke upwards as she left the
area.

Before she knew it, Chase had caught up
to her.
 
She shouldn’t have been
surprised.
 
He moved at easily five
times her speed without even trying.

“You’re really pissed off at me?” he
asked, like he was shocked.

“Yes,” she told him.
 
“But I don’t want to talk about it right
now.
 
Not with Boogie right
downstairs.
 
I can’t believe you brought
him into the house—especially with me here!”
 
Her eyes filled with tears.

“Baby girl,” Chase said, trying to stroke
her cheek.

She moved back a step.
 
“Don’t.
 
Don’t touch me.”

Chase sighed and rolled his eyes.
 
“Boogie’s not that bad,” he said, as
Faith went into the bedroom.
 
She
tried to close the door on him but he easily pushed the door open.

“Just leave me alone,” she said.
 
“Please, just leave me alone, Chase.”

“Listen,” Chase said.
 
“Will you listen, Faith?”

“No, I won’t.
 
I don’t want to talk to you when you’re
like this.”

“Like what?”

“Drunk.”

Chase threw his head back and laughed.
 
“I’m not drunk, baby girl.”

“Don’t call me baby girl.
 
Just go. Or better yet, I’ll
leave.”
 
She started to walk past
him and he grabbed her arm—not hard—just enough to stop her
progress.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he told
her.
 
“Boogie and me—“

“Stop trying to tell me about Boogie!
 
I don’t give a fuck.
 
Understand?”
 
She glared at him and her entire body
felt like ice, she was so furious.

His eyes grew surprised, and wounded, as
he saw her expression.
 
“Fine,” he
muttered.
 
“Me and Boogie are going
out.
 
You can do whatever you
want.”
 
Chase turned and left the
room in a hurry.

Faith started to cry silently, as she
heard his footsteps heading downstairs and then his and Boogie’s voices
mingling together.
 
At first, she
couldn’t hear what was said.
 
But
then Boogie’s voice grew loud.

“Shit, boy—you need to man up and
control your bitch!
 
You know that,
right?”

“Come on, Boogie.
 
Let’s go,” Chase said, ignoring his
comment.

“Take a hit of this blunt, boy.”

“Can’t do it, Boogs.
 
Drug testing.”

“Fuck that shit,” Boogie cackled, as the
front door creaked open.
 
“I’ll get
you a clean piss test motherfucker.”

“Whatever you say,” Chase laughed, but
his voice didn’t sound very happy.

And then the two of them left the
apartment and the door swung shut with a slam.
 
Faith startled a little, and then she
resumed crying, alone in the bedroom.

I
can’t believe him
, she
thought.

He
doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

***

She almost left Chase’s home and went
back to her apartment.

Not just once, but many times over the
course of the following hours, Faith was so close to grabbing her things and
going.

But something stopped her.
 
She couldn’t understand it herself.
 
Why stick around for a man who treated
her this way?

As she curled up in his bed and smelled
the scent of him in the quilt and the sheets, breathing him in, she knew the
answer all too well.

She was addicted to him—addicted to
everything he’d come to mean to her.

Despite his awful behavior, her feelings
for him were real and strong and couldn’t be wished away.

And so she waited for him, sleeping a
little, crying a little, staring at the walls and ceiling as she restlessly
tossed and turned in the quiet room of the silent, empty apartment.

Faith was frightened of what Chase and
Boogie might have gotten up to.
 
She
didn’t have a clue where they’d gone, and it was late at night.
 
 

Finally, just as she’d miraculously dozed
off again, and was sliding into a deeper, more peaceful sleep—the front
door opened once more.

She awoke with a fearful cry, sitting
bolt upright.
 
“Hello?” she cried
out.

There were footsteps and then what
sounded like a low groan from downstairs.

“Hello?
 
I’m going to call the police!” she
shouted, her voice sounding high-pitched and fearful in her own ears.
 
Faith grabbed for her phone and got
ready to dial 911.

“It’s just me,” Chase called up.
 
His voice sounded tired and hoarse.