by Liza Brown
I could feel tears flooding my eyes. I wouldn’t cry…I wouldn’t cry.
“Can I stay until Max gets here? I’ll talk to Detective Graven. Max can bring me to Brothers Arena.”
“Does Max have a background in hand-to-hand combat? Does he know what to look for when there’s a threat nearby? Does he carry a firearm?”
I sighed. Of course he didn’t. “No, but he’s my big brother. Besides, I don’t think anyone would be dumb enough to try anything more here. Especially if there’s a police car outside.”
“She’ll be ok. I’ll put her to work making signs for the elevator,” said Jack who I hadn’t realized was listening.
“Fine, but come when you’re done. Here, I forgot this was for you, I threw it on when I heard the crash to get it out of my hands.”
“You put it on?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t going to put something I gave you to wear on the floor,” he said. Elsu removed the Whoopsters team sweatshirt he had on. I reached out like a greedy child.
“Ooh it’s going to smell like you. I may not give it back.” I smiled as I slipped it on. As I had predicted, it nearly hit my knees. But with the leggings and the tennis shoes I thought it looked ok.
Elsu walked up to me and evened out the string that cinched the hood. “Text Millard when you’re on your way. He can let you in through the team entrance.” He gave me a long kiss on my forehead.
“I like those,” I whispered.
“What, guardian angel kisses?”
“What?” I asked.
“When I was little, my mom would kiss me on the forehead and tell me that was glue for my guardian angel to stay put when she wasn’t with me.”
I smiled. “That’s really sweet. No wonder I liked them so much.”
“She did that until I claimed I was too old for them in middle school.”
I pulled him to me and kissed his lips then hugged him close. “Well, I will never be too old for them. Here,” I kissed his nose.
“What’s that?”
“Well, I’m sure your mom’s guardian angel is still on your forehead. Mine is on your nose. Until we can be together again.”
He kissed me again then smiled. “I promise to keep her safe.”
“See you,” I said as he, Millard, and Brent exited the building.
Jack had left and returned with a stack of paper, a marker, and some masking tape. I took the items from him, sat on the floor, and started making “OUT OF ORDER–USE STAIRS” signs. I put tape on the back of the signs I made and just as I started to head up the steps, Max and Detective Graven walked into the building.
“There you two are,” I said as I handed the signs to Jack and went to my brother and the detective.
“We were talking to Elsu and Millard outside. Got the story. I came in to see for myself.”
“I’m here to take another statement. Are you ok, ma’am?” asked Detective Graven.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“You’re lucky,” said Max. “You know if it had gone straight down, you might have been killed, right?”
“It was only from the third floor,” I said.
“Third floor to basement is four floors. Most people don’t survive a four story fall. You’re lucky it has a safety feature that takes it off its track when it senses a freefall.” He and the detective went upstairs to inspect the mechanics and I stood alone by the open door.
Someone had tried to kill me? Was it Jeremy? Bart? I shivered. The asshole had gotten out of prison so much earlier than he should have. Could they really be trying to finish what Bart started? Stuffing me in the trunk of a car and driving like a madman across Ohio wasn’t enough for them? I began pacing as Jack came back from hanging signs. He looked at me and I realized I was biting my nails.
“Mae, I want you to know I’m sorry. If this is Bart and I see him here I will call the cops immediately.”
He patted me on my shoulder and I smiled silently at him. When I turned around, Max and Detective Graven were coming down the steps.
“You think this is Jeremy and Bart? I didn’t know they were that smart,” said Max.
“I don’t know who it is,” I said as I watched him pick up the small camera Millard had left on the ledge beside the elevator and examine it with Detective Graven.
“Why in the world did that Millard take that out of there?” asked Max.
“He tampered with evidence,” said Detective Graven.
“I think he was just caught up in the excitement and didn’t stop to think about that,” I said.
“Well, I’m labeling this as ‘attempted murder,’ Ma’am. I don’t know if it will help but it might get your case a little more notice down at the station.”
“Thank you,” I said.
He asked me several questions about the whole ordeal and took my official statement. He then took pictures of the elevator and a bruise on my forehead that I hadn’t even known I had until Max pointed it out.
“I’m to take you to the arena,” said Max.
“Yes, I know.” I sighed. I kind of wanted to hide in my room but I knew I had promised Elsu.
We drove in silence for a few minutes before Max finally spoke. “Are you ok?”
“No Max, I’m not.” I shook my head as I looked out the window and watched our growing city rush by on our way to the arena. Over the past several years, Massillon, Ohio had grown by leaps and bounds thanks to one man. Jonathan Brothers. He purchased the land from the old, defunct golf course, purchased the new NBA team, built their new arena, and added all kinds of bells and whistles to the city. Our town was attracting new businesses on a regular basis. Massillon, once known for its steel mill, and route along the Tuscarawas River in the early 1900’s, was no longer the sleepy little town it had been for the last one hundred plus years.
“What’s wrong, sis? If he’s hurting you, Mae, you know to leave, right? Just say the word and I’ll kick him out of the apartment”
“What, who? Elsu? Oh my God, no! He’s been perfect. I feel like I’m hurting him.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’ve had such a bad week, Max. Everything I’ve touched has hurt him in some way. I just don’t think I’m the kind of girlfriend he needs. I’m a mess.”
“So tell me what you’ve touched that you’ve screwed up.”
“Ok, I dropped all that stuff that Brandon wanted signed when I walked into Elsu’s house. I looked like a total buffoon.”
“Yes, the buffoon who takes time out of her day to take her nephew’s t-shirts, tennis shoes, and other Elsu-related trinkets to get signed when he’s been injured in a hit-and-run? I’m sure that made you come across as a really horrible person.”
“Shut up!”
“Ok, paper bags suck, did that physically hurt him?”
“Ok, no, but…” now that I had said it, it seemed stupid. “I went with that Casper to that dinner last week and he turned out to be a total jackass and he tried to get more than I was willing to give and Elsu beat him up.”
“Casper? Casper Valentine from the team?”
“Valentine? I didn’t even know his last name. He is definitely no Valentine. He attacked me after the meal when I stepped outside to get some fresh air.”
“Ok, I’m gonna go with ‘I’m ticked you didn’t tell me this before’ first of all. Second of all, it sounds like Elsu did the right thing.”
“I guess, but he lost a friend because of me. Plus there’s a good chance Casper is the one that burned Elsu’s house down.”
“I thought that was lightning.”
“It seems too simple of an excuse if you ask me.”
“Ok, I can see where you might think that is your fault. But unless you lit the match, it’s not,” said Max as we pulled into the player’s parking lot at the arena.
“That’s what Elsu said. Ok, so he came to me to tell me about the fire at his house and said he needed a place to stay and I thought he was asking about the apartment so I called you and it turns out he w
anted hotel recommendations. I feel like he took the apartment because I suggested it and got you involved. There’s not enough room in his unit for everyone. Now he’s in an apartment that’s a huge step down from the house he had and his housekeeper is staying with me, and his uncle and bodyguard are in his apartment and that furniture you call ‘furnished’ is crap, Max. He can’t sit on that couch without his knees touching his ears and who calls a card table and folding chairs a dining room set?” I breathed deeply.
“Ramble on much, sis?”
I was adamant about proving that I was screwing everything up. “Ok, he broke up with his ex because he claims I opened his eyes to what he really needed.”
“That guy’s got some smooth lines, Mae. If what he said was true it’s for the best. From what I saw last night at the game, that chick is a bitch. Not his type at all.”
“How do you know Saraya’s not his type? She’s beautiful, worldly, talented, knows how to dress. Everything I’m not.”
“I know she’s not his type because I could see by the way he was looking at you all night that you are apparently his type. He’s got it bad. Do you like him?”
“Probably more than I should, Max. This is all too new. We’ve only known each other a week. But ever since he followed me to the stairwell at the hospital after I went to visit Brandon, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. I don’t know what it is. I’ve never felt this way before.”
“And how many relationships are you comparing this one to?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“One,” I mumbled.
“Ok, so you don’t have a lot of experience to go on do you? But for what it’s worth, what I’m seeing is the budding of a relationship with two people who are head over heels for each other. Can I ask you a personal question, Mae?”
“I guess so,” I said as I saw Millard step out the player entrance door and nod at me.
“Are you and him…how do I ask this?”
“We aren’t. We haven’t. And I want to keep it that way for now.”
“Is he ok with that? You may want to talk to him about your past. He might have opinions that you don’t like.”
“He knows everything. I’ve told him every gory detail and he says he’s not going anywhere.”
“You told him everything?”
“It’s a long story but Magdalena found my box with all of my copies of the files from my trial against Bart in it and Elsu saw my pictures. He told me he couldn’t take away my pain if he didn’t know what caused it. At first I didn’t want to tell him, but I’m so glad I did. It was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I’ve never told anyone what I told him!” I sighed. “Not even Colette.”
“Seriously? All the time you spend with your best friend and even she doesn’t know?”
“Not all the gory details. No.”
“I can imagine carrying that around with you all these years has been hard. But DAMN he’s got the lines, doesn’t he? ‘Can’t take away the pain without knowing the cause’? That’s epic. If I ever need a new wife, I’m coming to him for some tips,” he said with a laugh. “He told me he hired you a bodyguard.”
I nodded. I was glad Elsu told him instead of me. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” I asked.
“It can’t hurt. I offered to pay for it but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” I said. “I’m going to be going out of town to a lot of his games. He gave me a list of the ones I can go to. I also get two tickets for every home game. Can you believe I enjoyed the game yesterday? Even with all the drama. Claustrophobic, people-fearing Mae was in a crowd of 20,000 and she had a good time.”
“We both know why you enjoyed it. Now go, Millard’s waiting for you. We’ll be at the game up in the crowd behind you. We got Brandon situated with handicap seating until he’s out of the wheelchair.”
“How long is he going to be in the chair?”
“He broke his leg and his arm when he got hit. So a good six weeks.”
“Any word on who hit him?”
“Nothing. None of the neighbors saw anything. All we know is from his brother saying it was a blue car.”
“There are a lot of blue cars in the world.”
“And it all happened so fast it’s hard to say if a five-year old really saw what he thinks he saw, you know?”
I nodded.
“Go, Millard is getting antsy. If you’re not too busy being a VIP, look straight above where you were yesterday and you’ll see us.”
I leaned over and gave him a bear hug. I loved him so much. “You’re the best big brother I have!”
“Don’t you forget it, now go!”
I stuck my tongue out at him for old time’s sake and went to the door where Millard still stood.
CHAPTER 2
Brothers arena was all but empty, with the teams in their locker rooms. I took a seat in the chair I had sat in the night before for the first game of the new season. Front and center. I’m pretty sure they were the greatest seats ever. They were the seats I sat in and learned that not only did I actually kind of like basketball, but I was capable of surviving spending several hours in a crowd of over 20,000 without hyperventilating. A lone basketball sat near the closest corner to where I sat. All of the other basketballs were neatly placed on a cart on the other side of the court. Perhaps this loner had been missed when they quit practicing. I went and picked it up to replace it to the rack and as I started to walk across the court I couldn’t resist the urge to throw it at the hoop. From the free throw line I aimed and made the shot. It bounced back to me and I made another and a third. Maybe my shots at Elsu’s old house weren’t flukes after all. Years of playing one-on-one with my nephews may have actually paid off.
Clap. Clap…Clap…I turned to see Casper walking from the player entrance at the other end of the VIP seating. “That’s rather impressive, Mae.”
“Shouldn’t you be with the team?” On a scale of one to ten of how much I liked people, Casper was a negative two.
“We broke from our meeting. They all went to the lounge to get a bite. Elsu went to do some PR shit.”
“Ok,” I said as I started toward the basketball rack to replace the one I had been using.
“You don’t have to stop on my account,” he sat down in one of the VIP seats near where I had been.
“Actually, I do. I don’t feel terribly comfortable alone with you, Casper.” I kept my distance by skirting the perimeter of the court to make my way toward the door that would at least get me to the hallway with the lounge. Of course that door was on the same side as Casper.
“Can I apologize for my behavior on Thursday?” he asked.
“You mean the behavior that left me bruised and with a huge hickey on my neck that I am still having to hide with makeup?”
“Really? I didn’t think I did all that. But I’m sorry.”
“You can apologize all you want, that doesn’t mean I have to forgive you.”
“Well that’s not nice, I was an asshole. I had a bit too much to drink. I really am sorry.” It amazed me that the same exact words had been used by my ex, Bart. Apparently Casper had gone to the same school for jerks.
“OK, thank you.” I got a bit closer to the hallway I was aiming for, but Casper stood slowly and also took a step in the same direction.
“I’m just going to go find Elsu,” I said. I knew I couldn’t outrun Casper, even in his injured-from-being-beaten-to-a-pulp-by-a-steaming-Elsu state.
“He’s with the press. You can’t get in there,” he said as he took another step.
“Well, I’ll just go wait for him.”
“He could be a few hours. He’s got to talk to a few different markets, answer a lot of questions.”
“Really?” internally I wondered why the heck I was there if he was going to be behind closed doors for hours.
“Yeah, I think he’d appreciate it if I showed you around the arena a bit,” he said as he took a few more steps to my o
ne.
“I really don’t think he would, Casper. He’s kind of protective.”
“That’s got to be annoying for you, a free-spirited, independent woman. He won’t even let you stay home alone, he has to keep you under his thumb at all times.”
I took a few more steps toward the hallway. I knew I was walking forward but it felt like the exit was getting further away every time he took a step. “He’s concerned for my safety, that’s all. Please, I’m just going to go. Thank you for the apology.” I nearly sprinted from the court and ran straight into Millard as he was walking through the hallway toward the court. He eyed Casper and then me.
“Come on,” he said as he glared at Casper and guided me down the locker room hall and through a door marked ‘MEDIA’. “When I couldn’t find Casper, I had a feeling where he was. Sorry about that.”
“It’s ok, I’m fine.” I wasn’t, but maybe if I said it enough I’d start believing myself. “He was just apologizing for Thursday.”
“Yeah, and you believed it?”
“No,” I said as I realized where we were. “I thought I wasn’t allowed in here,” I said as we walked behind some cameras that were all aimed at a wall of logos where Elsu sat answering questions that only he could hear because they were being pumped into a pair of earbuds he wore.
“Who told you that? Wait, Casper?”
I nodded. “I need to stop being so gullible, Millard.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Millard, did I hear Elsu call you ‘Milly’ last week?”
“Yes, he does that sometimes,” said Millard.
“And do you like it when Elsu calls you Milly?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Ok, so I don’t like being called ‘ma’am.’ So from now on, every time you call me ma’am, I’m going to call you Milly.”
He sighed, a look of defeat on his face. “Yes, Miss Mae. It’s a habit that’s hard to break.”
“I know, but there’s a chance we’ll be spending a lot of time together and I’m only 25. I’m too young to be a ‘ma’am’.”
“Message received, Miss Mae.”
