His father stands up and puts his arms around me in this tight embrace. He pulls away to speak, but he’s at a loss for words. The man’s wife speaks for him. “You can’t think that way, Jonathan,” she says. “Neither of us blame you, you know?”
I thank them for the kind words before I leave. I don’t head home; instead, I head to the café down the street from the gym. I’m starving, and I could use a coffee. I order and go and sit down at my regular table; I used to come here all the time with Laurel. Almost as soon as the thought of Laurel crosses my mind, she enters the coffee shop without noticing me. I watch from afar as that beautiful woman orders herself a coffee and her signature blueberry muffin. She orders it to go, and she spins around to head out the door. She sees me, and her shoulders drop. “Hey, Laurel,” I say, letting her know I see her and that she can’t just ignore me.
She awkwardly stands to the side of the doorway near where I am seated. “Hey, Jonathan,” she says softly.
“Listen, I can’t stay and chat,” she starts to say, but then she pauses. She looks at me, and I guess it’s written all over my face. “Jonathan, are you okay?”
I frown. Is it that obvious? “Sorry, I just got back from the police station.”
“It’s about Gabe, isn’t it?” she asks, and she puts her drink down on my table –still unwilling to actually sit down just yet.
“Yeah,” I say, but I do not offer additional information just yet. I run my fingers through my hair, an old nervous tick –one of many I have.
Slowly but surely, she drifts down into the empty seat across from me. “What happened?” I’m surprised she’s not cussing me out let alone asking me how I’m doing.
It sort of comes out fast and over the top. I tell her everything Officer Carpenter had just informed me of, and she sits across from me poise as ever taking it all in. When I finish what it is I have to say, she takes a moment for it all to register with her. “Are you in danger, Jonathan?” she asks, and she sounds sincerely worried.
“I hope not, but they’re going to be keeping a patrol car outside of my house at night,” I say.
“I’m sorry, but hey, at least they finally caught the guy who did it,” she says.
“No, they just caught the hired muscle,” I practically hiss. “Whoever did it is still out there.”
“I know,” she says, still sounding anxious about the whole thing. “You’ll watch your back, right?”
“I will,” I promise, and she slowly starts to stand up again. “Laurel, before you go, there’s something I want to say to you.”
“What’s that?” she asks while scooping up her coffee and her blueberry muffin.
“I want to apologize,” I say. “Laurel, I really do love you. I meant it when I said it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same way about Brandi. You were there for me when Brandi wasn’t, but I hope you understand that I just couldn’t walk away from this.”
“I get it, Jonathan, I really do. I’m sure I was just the easier choice to walk away from, right?” she says, and it really stings.
I just look down at my lap, and I feel her hand touch my shoulder. I look back up at her. “I miss you,” I say.
She removes her hand. “I miss you too, Jonathan.”
“I wish you would come back to the gym,” I say. “I hate that you’re avoiding it because of me. If I make you that uncomfortable, I could leave.”
“I know you need the job, Jonathan,” she says. “And you can’t do that to Alexis when the marathon event is coming up. Look, if you can be mature towards me, I suppose I could do the same. I suppose after everything, it would be a shame if we can’t be in the same room together, you know? I’m happy for you, Jonathan, I really am. I hope you and Brandi can work things out for the baby.”
“Ambriel,” I say.
Laurel smiles at me. “That’s a beautiful name. Ambriel Trial. I like it. I’ll see you around, Jonathan,” she says and heads out the door.
I don’t know what it was, but just talking to her –getting an apology out of my mouth, it made me feel better. Hopefully if she comes back to the gym, I’ll be able to handle it.
67
I arrive home after having my breakfast at the café, and Brandi is up and moving around. She looks exhausted even after sleeping in a bit this morning, but it’s not like I can blame her for that. I know if I was carrying that much extra weight around with the added stress of hormones, swollen feet, and occasional morning sickness I would be exhausted too. She’s seated out on the patio; there is a cool breeze today, so I’m sure it feels good to her. Her feet are propped up on a second chair as she enjoys a late breakfast of freshly made scones.
“Morning,” she says drearily as I plop myself down beside her.
“Morning,” I say back.
“So what did you go do this morning exactly?” she says with a yawn. “I was half asleep when you told me what you were off to do.”
“I went to see Officer Carpenter,” I say.
“Who?” she questions.
“Officer Carpenter,” I say again, “he’s the one leading up the murder investigation.”
She puts her feet down and sits upright. “What did he say?”
“They caught the guy who killed Gabe,” I say.
Her eyebrows appear to almost jump. “Really? That’s great, Jonathan.”
“Not really,” I say. “The guy was a hitman, and he’s not talking. Someone hired him… to kill me.”
“Oh my God!” she covers her mouth to keep from spitting out a bite of scone. She grabs her napkin and wipes her lips. “Who would want to kill you?”
“Someone who couldn’t do it themselves, apparently,” I say smugly. “I don’t know, Brandi. I just wish this could be over with, but it’s not. When Carpenter told me they caught the guy, I thought it was over, but then he tells me that this guy who they have in custody is just part of a bigger thing, well, it’s making me sick.”
I feel Brandi’s hand reach out and touch my knee. She offers me a sympathetic and reassuring smile. “They will find out who did this, Jonathan,” she asserts, but it does not exactly make me feel better. “Are you safe right now?” she asks.
“They are going to have a patrol car sitting out in front of the house at night,” I say. “Just in case whoever is behind this tries to, well, finish the job himself. I can’t help but to feel guilty. Gabe wasn’t even the one who was supposed to die.”
“You can’t keep blaming yourself,” she says, but her words are somewhat shallow after she had once thrown the blame of Gabe’s death towards me; it had been something she had said out of anger, but it’s on the forefront of my mind now that Gabe’s murder has once again been brought back to my attention. I shift slightly so that she will remove her hand from my knee and sit myself up straight. I shouldn’t be acting cold towards her; I know I’m really the one to blame for our relationship going to shit. The drinking, the failed career, and me losing my head in the locker room after a match –those were all things that I had done. Brandi didn’t do a thing except realize she deserved better. My friends say she should have been there for me when my addiction got the better of me, but should she have really put herself through that? She was probably just thinking about what was best for our baby, and at the time the best was certainly not me. Yet, I still feel this slight resentment towards some of the things that were said and done, and I can’t help but to think of how compassionate Laurel had been. Laurel had pulled me out of my hole. She and Tyler and Bobby and Marty….they were the ones who had helped me get better –not Brandi. Brandi just opted out when shit hit the fan and then got with the one person I probably hate the most, just to be an ass towards me.
She looks so beautiful sitting there, trying her best to reassure me. Why can’t I help but feeling that it’s all fake? I feel like we’re just two kids playing house in this giant mansion. With Laurel it had felt real, but I feel obligated to stay with Brandi. I know I should. I want to feel the way I used to feel about her,
but I just don’t. I wouldn’t say I don’t love her, because I do, but I just don’t feel that same wonderful, so-happy-in-love feeling I used to. I feel resentful. I feel betrayed. Will these feelings ever go away?
I look at her round belly, and I feel a sense of relief. My daughter will be here soon, and I’ll have something else to focus on for a while. At the moment, it’s just another thing I have to worry about. I’m not sure if I’ll even make a decent father, or if that will just be something else for me to screw up.
“Jonathan, do you want to set up the nursery today?” Brandi asks, snapping me out of my haze.
I smile. “Yeah, let’s do that. That’d be nice,” I say, glad to be assigned a task I can focus on instead of allowing my thoughts and anxieties to drag me down yet again.
68
I head into the back employees entrance of the gym for my afternoon shift, and at first I am assuming that it is going to be like any other day. I pass Alex in the hall, and she gives me this nervous grin. “I’m headed on my lunch break now,” she says; she seems antsy, so I called her out on it.
“Everything good?” I ask.
She nods. “I guess I just don’t know whether or not to warn you; Laurel’s back.”
“Good,” I say almost too quickly. I do a quick recovery. “I shouldn’t be keeping her from coming here. I’m glad she’s feeling comfortable enough to come back.”
“Yeah, me too,” Alex says as she remains standing awkwardly in the hallway instead of heading out back to the parking lot to go enjoy her lunch.
“Everything is going to be fine, Alex,” I assure her. “Laurel and I had a heart to heart the other day. We can be in the same room together.”
Alex gives me this approving nod before heading out –deciding a verbal warning to behave myself was not necessary; I’m not the same creep she had hired off the street a while back. Amazing how quickly a person can change. I head into Alex’s office to drop off my things before heading out into the main area of the gym. I immediately spot Laurel inside the boxing ring with Britany; the two of them are sparing, and the other women fighters are all around them on various equipment.
Laurel gives me an awkward wave, and I wave back and offer her a smile. So far so good. I decide to avoid the boxing ring for a while to let the atmosphere sink in with everyone around us. I figure just going up and chit-chatting with all of them would be awkward right now, so I need to give it time. They do say that time heals all wounds, but this one was pretty deep. Besides, I have a lesson to teach on the second floor. I ride the elevator up, and it’s a perfect view from the track down to the boxing ring. Honestly, I’m really glad to see her back in here. I missed her.
My class is already waiting for me; they always show up early. “Hello ladies,” I say as I enter the large room with the glass walls, still overlooking the main room in the gym. I can watch Laurel doing her workouts from here while teaching my class, but I do my best not to. She’s distracting, and I don’t need to be distracted if I want to keep my job.
The class goes over without a hitch; the soccer moms are really starting to take to the whole self-defense thing. One of the moms is even telling me she joined an amateur boxing class at another gym, and she’s wanting to know if I’ll be teaching something like that. I tell her I’ll run it by Alex, and honestly I’d love to do something like that. I’m getting tired of the same self-defense courses week after week. A boxing class for beginners would be just perfect, and it would allow these well-trained soccer moms to take their new-found abilities to the next level.
“So you’re having a meeting today after the gym closes for the volunteers, right?” one of the moms ask.
I’m glad she asked because I had almost forgotten. “Yes, that’s right!” I say, slapping my hand on the back of my head and laughing slightly at how easily I have become distracted. “Yes, I’ll be going over what all we will need for the marathon.”
“Great! I’ll be there!” the woman says and leaves with her friends.
I leave the room after tidying up, and I catch myself lingering towards the railing by the second floor track; it’s a perfect spot to gaze down at the ring. I can see Laurel taking a water break just outside the ring while Marianna and LaWanda take a turn sparring. She glances up my way and smiles, but it is a sad smile. I return an almost identical look, and there is this horrible, aching feeling in the pit of my stomach. I love her; I still do, and it’s painful.
The day goes by, and I mostly avoid her. I had thought I would want to see her back at the gym, but having her so close while she’s untouchable is making things way harder. I keep having to remind myself of Brandi; I adorn my wedding ring promptly on my left hand as a reminder –although the ring is kind of a joke seeing as how Brandi and I are still divorced, but if it will keep me focused, I’ll wear the damn thing. Every time I catch myself gazing off in Laurel’s direction, I start fiddling with it. I keep that same picture of the ultrasound of Ambriel on my phone that I had snapped before Brandi was aware that I knew. I look at that too as yet another reminder that I am committed to something else.
The day draws to a close, and I head to one of the meeting rooms to get set up for the fundraiser meeting. I set up chairs, and Alex brings in doughnuts for the volunteers. Within minutes of finishing set up, the room is jam packed full of women and a handful of husbands who had gotten drug into volunteering at the event. “I want to start out by thanking everyone for coming,” I begin and get going on this long speech I have about the fundraiser, what we need everyone to do, how the event is going to run, where to meet, what to bring, and so on. About halfway through my explanation, I notice Laurel is present. Is she still volunteering for my event? It makes me grin, and I have to refocus myself yet again.
Eventually the meeting is adjourned; a few people stick around to ask a few questions, but that’s all. Laurel hangs around, and I finally go up and talk to her after spending most of the day avoiding her. “You’re still volunteering for the event?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says. “I told you I would. I’d hate to leave you hanging.”
I smile. “Thank you,” I say.
“Of course,” she says, and then I feel her fingers brush up against my side; she yanks her hand back, and my face turns red.
“Um…” I say, and she just looks down.
“I’ll see you later, Jonathan,” she says and slips out of the room.
I tug at my shirt collar and shake my head. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.
69
Brandi and I pull up into the parking lot of a small diner to meet Caleb, my new manager. I’m actually surprised she wanted to attend the meeting; she’s done this sort of thing before, but she always seemed so bored talking to my old manager. I guess she is trying to be supportive, and she probably wants to feel this new guy out. Caleb is practically a kid, so it’s a little unnerving, but he’s done a decent job so far.
We head into the diner, Brandi’s hands holding up her stomach like she’s carrying a melon. Caleb is already there and has gotten us a table; he flags us down, and Brandi mutters, “He’s practically a baby,” to me as we cross the diner to grab out seats.
Caleb smiles and shakes Brandi’s hand. “Good to finally meet the Misses,” he says, pulling her chair out for her. Who knew this punk could be a gentleman?
The server is over to us in a flash, and she spits out a number of specials they have for the day. We order our drinks, she plops down some menus, and she disappears for a moment. “So, the last match went well,” Caleb begins. “It’s gotten you a decent amount of publicity, and people are actually talking about you again. I’m thinking that that marathon fundraiser thing you’re doing for the Battered Women’s Home is going to help with your public relations as well. We want everyone to forget about the Jonathan Trial that bashed women boxers and beamed his wife in the face with his elbow. No offense, Mrs. Trial.”
“I’d prefer everyone forget it as well,” she says.
Caleb
continues. “I want to see what you think about a revenge match.”
“With who?” I ask as I skim through the menu.
“With Donte,” Caleb says, and I cringe.
“You can do that?” I question.
“He wants to fight you again,” Caleb says, “But his manager thinks you’re old news. It’s just something that is a distant possibility right now, but before I waste my time trying to set it up, I wanted to get your input.”
Brandi crosses her arms. “You should do it.”
I certainly didn’t expect that. After my first match with Donte in which I wound up with a concussion and staying the night in the ER, she had been pretty against me fighting him again; my second fight hadn’t been much better, and she had been pretty irate with me about taking the match. Now she wants me to fight him? “Are you serious?” I ask her, a bit flabbergasted she would want me to fight the guy she had started sleeping with after our divorce.
She scowls slightly. “That asshole gave me a black eye. Honestly, Jonathan, I want to see you kick that jerk’s ass.”
“I like her,” Caleb says, waving a finger towards Brandi while winking at me.
“You both know I can’t beat Donte,” I say. “It’s been forever since I’ve had a high priority match like that, and I couldn’t even beat him when I was in his league.”
“Donte is all strength,” Caleb says. “But he has no endurance. Your problem is he’s gotten you quick and hard. You have to play defensive the first few rounds and wear the guy down –and who better to teach you about endurance than those women boxers you’ve been training with? Women are all about the endurance, it’s their strong point. Men, we’re all about strength when it comes to sports. I’m not saying this is anything that is going to happen in the next few weeks, but I can make it happen later. I just got to know if you’d be willing to do it before I waste my time trying to convince Donte’s manager that it’s be worth setting it up.”
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 151
