by Aja Cole
“Completely.” I slip my hand into his and we walk through the doors, and I’m too occupied by my own thoughts to look around. I get impressions of marble and pale grey, open space, and then we’re at the elevators.
Then we’re stepping off.
Then he’s taking out a keycard.
Then we’re inside his room, and I’m very aware of the spicy, fresh scent emanating from him and how close he is to me.
The room has a slight chill to it, or maybe it’s knowing that this is my first real step that I’ve taken towards entertaining someone else. I shiver, and Elias runs his hands down my arms lightly, turning me to face him.
“Cold?”
“Not anymore.” I look up at him, taking in the fierce set of his face and how he dwarfs me in size. There’s a few career paths he could’ve taken with his stature.
“Good,” he murmurs. “You should be comfortable for this.” He moves forward, making me step back until the back of my legs meet a chair seat and I sink into it.
“For what?” I breathe, anticipation making my heart flutter in my chest.
“We need to talk.” He leans forward and down, and I lean forward too, because I think he’s going to kiss me.
Instead, I hear an odd metal clicking sound that I can’t immediately place.
That’s when it hits me like a freight train that my right hand is handcuffed to the chair, and Elias Carter isn’t who he says he is.
Fuck.
I yank at the cuff, getting increasingly agitated. I haven’t had an asthma attack in years, but this feels like a good moment for a come back.
This is what I get for trying to do something completely out of the ordinary for me.
Now I’m going to be the second Quentin sister to go missing, and I’ll go a virgin.
What a fucking joke.
“You’re going to rub your wrist raw if you don’t stop yanking at the cuff.” He pulls another chair in front of me and sits casually in it, like he isn’t an entire stranger and this isn’t completely out of line.
“Oh, I’m sorry, should I just sit here calmly and wait for you to chop me into little pieces?”
He scoffs, amusement on his face. “I think I’d prefer the lye route. Chopping seems like it would be too time intensive.”
My eyes are popping out of my head, and my lungs and heart are about to jump out of my chest.
“In any case, I’m not here to murder you. I want to talk to you about your family. About your sister.”
I freeze, lifting my head from where I was examining my wrist and the silver cuff around it.
“What did you say? Why would you say that?”
His expression turns sympathetic, and he stands, coming towards me and crouching down.
“If I take this off, do you promise to hear me out? Not run?”
I nod numbly, and he rubs my wrist lightly after he un-cuffs it. I stare at the top of his head, not sure what the hell’s going on anymore.
He takes his seat again, and almost on autopilot, I take off my heels and hug my knees to my chest. I don’t really care if he can see my black underwear underneath.
“What do you know about my sister?” I ask quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.
There was never a body. Never a funeral. Just a memorial service with close friends, and a candlelight vigil held by her school. Not having any answers over the years is what hurt the most, as well as my parents acting as if nothing happened.
I didn’t have anyone to talk to about her. Everyone tiptoed around me, and nobody wanted to bring her up. Eventually, it was just like she never existed.
Except for me. I’ll never forget her.
“Let’s talk about your family first.”
“Who are you?” He’s definitely not a businessman. “Is Elias Carter your real name?”
“Yes. And I am in acquisitions in a way…of criminals. I’m with the FBI. A small, special task force with a vested interest in your family and others. So, what do you know about what your parents do?”
I shrug, resting my chin on my knees. I’ve never felt so out of my element, so young. The last time I felt this naive was when I realized my parents only cared about themselves. Since then, I’ve been on my own. I worked two jobs in college, I was married for all intents and purposes, and it’s just kind of been a one-woman show with a few amazing supporting actors. I’ve travelled, I’ve been a professional, and I’ve done more than some people could dream in a short amount of time.
Now, I feel my age more than ever.
“Not a lot. I know my dad has been a founding partner at the same accounting firm for years, and my mom pretty much works as his assistant. They manage some property, and do a few more things here and there, last time I knew. What about my sister?” I press. I don’t want to talk about my parents. I don’t care about them.
“It never struck you as odd that they have a full security team?” Considering I was just thinking about that myself the other day, the question makes me uneasy.
“My dad makes a lot of money. I figured he was just paranoid and narcissistic about who actually cares about him.”
“Did it ever cross your mind that they’re into anything illegal? Any memories that stick out from your childhood?”
“How about instead of asking me all these questions that I obviously don’t know the answers to, you tell me what the hell you’re on about.”
“Alright.” He links his hands together, leaning on his knees and piercing me with an unwavering stare. “I think there’s more to what happened with your sister, and I think your parents have known for years.”
11
Asher
It’s that time, the time that almost hurts me to my bones just thinking about what’s to come.
It’s torture. It’s knives sticking in your skin, and in places that they shouldn’t. It’s an athlete’s most hated pastime, and for some, most enjoyed.
It’s fucking ice bath time.
Multiple bags of fresh ice into a large tub that’s about 40 degrees in temp. A bunch of the guys and I like to do it together, because talking passes the time quicker.
We’re not in season, we’re not even in pre-season yet, but we get together when we can for a practice session or workout.
The things we do to keep our bodies in the best shape possible, fuck.
The trainers are busy filling the tubs, and we’re standing around in our compression shirts and shorts, booties made of wetsuit material on our feet. It’s one thing to put your body in, but without socks, your toes feel like they’re going to pop off one at a time.
“The anticipation always feels like shit.” Alex, a tight-end, shakes his head next to me, and Jax, another wide receiver, nods glumly.
“I don’t wanna do it,” Jax agrees, doubling over and shaking out his arms. “Alright, come on, let’s get it over with.”
“Yo, what’s today’s topic?” Chris asks from a few feet away, and everyone looks to Devon, a running back. It’s his turn to pick.
“Uh, I’ve got girl problems, so let’s go with that.” We all step up to the two large tubs, and I steel my spine, taking a deep breath.
Jax starts the countdown. “3…2…1!”
We all jump in, plunging ourselves into the icy depths, and there’s various expletives shouted out before we settle on the benches inside.
“I’ll never get used to it.” I drop my head back on the edge, slowing my breathing and completely aware of every muscle in my body.
“Alright, how’d you fuck up this time?” Alex asks Devon, and the large guy shakes his head. I think I can see a blush on his dark skin.
“Listen, my girl and I…we just…we don’t see eye to eye on some things.”
“What kind of things?”
“You mean she doesn’t like you hanging out with your ex?” Jax throws out, and we all swing our eyes to Devon.
“Mimi and I are just friends! I don’t know why Jazz is so mad about it. I mean, Mimi is like one of the guys
, to me.”
“Y’all ever had anything? And does Jazz know it?” Chris asks.
“We slept together…once. A long time ago. But that was it. I don’t even think about it.” At his admission, all of us groan and laugh, and he shakes his head. “It’s not a big deal, I swear.”
“To you, my man. Your girl knows you hang out regularly with another girl who you’ve had your hands all over and vice versa. Think about it this way, if she was hanging out a bunch with a close friend that she slept with, how would you feel?” I counter.
“That’s different. I’m a man. I know that men always want to fuck.” He frowns.
Alex looks around, incredulous. “Have you never met the women that try to hang out around us? Some women always want to fuck too.”
We all murmur and nod in agreement. I think we’ve all been in some situations where we got to our hotel room and someone got in without our consent, or women have gotten pretty aggressive just because they think that all we want is a warm body.
Yeah, it’s true of a bunch of guys. But it’s not the only criteria, and we’re not just always in the mood.
“Have Jazz and Mimi hung out? Are they friends, too? Maybe if Jazz knew her a little more, she’d feel better.”
“Well, see, Mimi feels like she doesn’t need to do anything extra because she’s been around longer than Jazz. And Mimi doesn’t really have a lot of female friends, she thinks women are too much drama.”
Woo, boy.
“Nah, she tryna smash, bro. She just wants you all to herself.”
“My wife told me she doesn’t trust women who say women are too much drama. Usually it means that they’re the problem if they say all other woman are.” Shawn speaks up from the other tub, and the other guys voice their agreement.
“That’s never a good sign.”
“Something’s up with your friend, man.”
“I’ve met Jazz, she’s cool people. Maybe you should ask Mimi some hard questions.”
“Fucking hell, I hate every one of you. You were supposed to say that Jazz is just being paranoid and I’m right.”
“You asked the wrong guys then. Maybe the rookies would’ve kissed your ass.” Jax laughs. “Weren’t you married, King? Your ex hang out with your girlfriends?”
“I haven’t really had a steady girlfriend in awhile. But no, and Nova and I just reconnected.”
“Nova’s your ex, right?” Chris confirms, and I nod. It’s easy to forget I’m freezing my balls off when we’re just shooting the shit like this. I wouldn’t replace my teammates for anything, even when we fuck up.
We win together, we lose together.
“Why weren’t y’all talking?” Devon questions. “She get a man that didn’t like you being around?”
“Nah, we uh…” Nobody else really knows that we were only friends, so I have to talk around that. “I guess she needed space. She told me the other night that she didn’t want to be a burden, and wanted me to live it up being a draft pick and being a rookie.”
“Didn’t you have a date last week? Finally, you can stop taking my sister to events.” Alex gives an exaggerated sigh, and I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, it was cool. We went out again last night, but I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m feeling it like I should be.”
“Just get back with your ex, problem solved, no more dating. I fucking hate dating. I wish someone would set me up on one of those married at first sight shows and I can be done.” Kaden, another quarterback, complains.
“Don’t let the PR people hear that. You’ll be the star of a show before you know it.”
“If it means that someone vets someone else for me, I might just go tell them my damn self. But back to Asher. Date your ex, marry her again, boom.” The timer goes off, and you’d have thought someone lit a fire under our asses. We splash out of the tubs and everyone tosses around dry towels.
“It’s not like that for her, I think. Honestly…I would. I just don’t think she feels the same.”
“Won’t know until you ask,” Devon says, and we all look at him skeptically. “Look, I’ve matured since the start of this conversation, okay? I want to keep my woman, so I’m going to talk to Mimi and Jazz and figure out the truth.”
“You sound like Riley, she keeps pushing me to tell Nova.”
“Riley single?” Alex questions, and I shake my head.
“Riley doesn’t date athletes.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” He grins. If he wants to hit on her next time she’s around, he can be my guest. She’ll get him together faster than my warnings will, anyway.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I pull on my hoodie and my sweatpants, stripping off the booties and putting on warm socks. It’s May in Atlanta, which means it’s hot as shit, but I don’t think I’ll feel anything but freezing for a bit so it’s fine.
“Seriously though.” Jax comes up, tugging on his own clothes. “Maybe there’s a reason you haven’t really dated since your divorce, and maybe your ex feels the same. Might be time for a re-evaluation.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” I brush the comments off and say my goodbyes, grabbing my keys and following the corridors to leave the facility.
Of course it’s a lot more complicated than they know. I didn’t mention that we never had a real marriage, I didn’t mention that she’s the reason I went out with Heidi, and I didn’t mention that she’s never had those kind of feelings for me.
But I’ve always had them for her.
Shit’s hard, man. You don’t want to upset the balance of your friendship in case it goes to shit, because then you’d lose them for good. So you take whatever you can get, the small things and whatever scraps you can pick up, because that’s better than nothing.
I really don’t know what the fuck to do.
What I do know is Nova’s birthday is in two days and I want to spend it with her like we used to. I think I need to tell Heidi that we’re looking for different things, so I don’t lead her on.
I tried something different, and it just…it didn’t feel like I needed it to.
Maybe the only option is sucking it up and taking the risk that Nova will look at me differently since I’ve been holding my feelings back from her for so long.
At least if I get them off my chest and she turns me down, I’ll stop wondering and be able to really move on.
My bluetooth rings and I answer the call, not recognizing the number.
“May I speak with Asher King?” I don’t recognize the voice either.
“Speaking.” I click on my seatbelt, but don’t take the car out of park, waiting.
“In 2015, you retained the services of Copeland Thomas, Esq. Is that correct…?”
12
Nova
I haven’t left home in two days, and I don’t want to.
The last twelve years of my life have been a lie. My parents are liars. Sasha is a liar. Everyone I ever encountered through them growing up is probably a liar too.
I can’t sleep.
I can’t eat.
I can’t do anything but run a replay of everything Elias said through my mind, constantly. I’ve been looking at articles, crime sites, google searches, trying to remember names of people from my childhood.
I copy and paste another article link into the document I started, and go back to the search engine, the letters blurring in front of me slightly.
I blink and re-focus, rubbing my brow. Things straighten out and I hunch over my laptop, shaking my head. I can’t find enough. I don’t know enough.
I drop my head against my hands and rub my eyes, sighing.
I can’t focus either. A shower, I’ll take a shower and maybe that’ll clear my head a little. Then, I guess I’ll eat something.
The thought of food makes me sick to my stomach.
Resigning myself to taking a break, I grab my phone and trudge towards my bathroom.
It’s more out of habit than anything else, because I haven’t turned it on
since I found out about my family’s dealings.
I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, even Asher. I feel completely lost. I didn’t have anything booked this week thankfully, so I’m not letting down any of my clients or friends.
I turn the shower on hot and take off my clothes, stepping under the spray and closing my eyes, leaning against the wall.
Elias wants me to talk to my parents. He wants me to let them back into my life so that I can find out more information.
I don’t know if I can do it.
I don’t know if I want to.
He thinks there’s more to what happened with Naja, but he wouldn’t tell me too much. He said he didn’t want to get my hopes up, but he’s following some leads and he’ll let me know quietly if they work out.
I’m not supposed to say anything to anyone. I forgot I’d texted Gemma my number and she was asking questions about him and if I was alive and how it went.
I told her that things just didn’t pan out, but I’ll talk to her soon.
What the hell am I supposed to say?
Oh, he’s actually an FBI agent who wants more information about my family and thinks that my sister’s disappearance was connived and I’ve been lied to most of my life.
Yeah, she definitely won’t think I’m crazy then.
I don’t want any of this. I don’t want to know any secrets, I don’t want to think any worse about my parents than I already do. I just want to pretend that none of this is happening.
Maybe it’s time for a vacation. To a remote island that can only be reached by boat.
I have a substantial savings account. I don’t need to work to sustain myself. That’s what happens when all you’ve done is throw yourself into work and staying busy so you don’t go running back for something that was never yours.
When it feels like my skin is steaming off and I don’t feel so dizzy, I leave the shower and run some DevaCurl through my hair with a denman brush, resolving to just let it do whatever the hell it’s going to do today.
