TACKLE (Boston Terriers Book 4)

by Jacob Chance

  Sandy falls into the empty chair next to mine. “Whaaat’s wrooong? You look... like you... could... use some company?”

  Turning to her I notice her bloodshot eyes and flushed face. She’s hammered. “You look like you could use something to eat.” I stand and move over to the counter where the plates have been set out. I pluck a fork and knife from the containers and choose a meal for her. Retracing my steps, I place it all down in front of her. “Eat.”

  “Ooh… order me… around.” She leans her head on my arm and bats her lashes at me. Shrugging her off my shoulder, I prop her upright once more.

  “Sit up, eat your dinner, and soak up some of that booze. We just finished our shift. How are you so banged up?” I sound like I’m a parent scolding their teenager.

  She places her thumb and index finger close together and leans forward until her face is almost touching them. “A little sip… here and… there.”

  “One for you, one for me kind of thing, huh?”

  “Yes,” she drunkenly shouts and then giggles.

  “How are you getting home?”

  “In a car, silly.”

  “I mean did you drive yourself to work or did you get a ride?”

  “I drove.”

  Fuck. She’s a mess and in no condition to drive herself home. “Hurry up and eat and I’ll take you back to your place.”

  “Oh goody. What are… you gonna dooo…. with me?”

  “I’m taking you home and that’s all I’m doing.”

  Fifteen minutes later her plate is clean and she seems more inebriated than before. What the hell is going on? The food should’ve soaked up some of the alcohol by now. “Do you have any substances besides alcohol in your system?”

  “I took a pill.”

  “What kind of pill?”

  “A chill pill,” she laughs hysterically. She sounds like she’s coming unhinged.

  “What exactly is a chill pill?”

  “Valyummmm.”

  “Valium?” I question.

  “Yeeeep.”

  Just fucking great. I don’t do drugs, but I know alcohol and pills don’t mix. Rising to my feet, I clear our plates from the table and set them over by the sink. Walking back to the table, I grab my phone and push it down into my pocket. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

  It takes her three tries to stand up and the only reason it’s not four is because I latched onto her upper arm and lifted her. She sways unsteadily and I wait, prepared to catch her if she topples over. Somehow she shuffles her feet forward in tiny sliding steps like she’s skating across the tile floor instead of walking. I’m not going to complain though. At least we’re making progress toward the back exit. My first night working here I learned staff parks in the back in a separate lot which is extremely helpful when your ushering a drunk woman out to your vehicle. At least we don’t have to pass by any club members. I can’t afford to lose this job. One of the members complaining about a drunk staff would be bad for all of us. And I might be considered guilty by association.

  Getting her from the kitchen to my Range Rover is a slow process, but once she’s seated safely inside I sigh with relief and then shake my head at the situation.

  The ride to her place takes about twenty minutes, and thankfully, Sandy sleeps through all of it. As much as I hate the reminder that I’ve been involved with her in the past, one good thing has come out of it. I know where she lives and don’t have to wake her to ask.

  My head’s been a cyclone of worry for the duration of the drive. I can’t stop wondering what Grace is doing at this moment. Hopefully, she’s asleep and not concerned about me. I’ll arrive at class early in the morning and tell her everything.

  I double park at the curb in front of the upperclassmen dorms Sandy lives in. I put my hazards on before hurrying around to the passenger side of the vehicle. “Sandy,” I call her name and jostle her arm. “Sandy, wake up,” I yell, my patience at an all time low.

  “Don’t yell,” she groans rubbing her forehead.

  “I won’t as long as you do as I say. Swing your legs to the side and I’ll help you climb out.” She does what I say, albeit slowly and shakily, but she’s on her feet so that’s a win. “I’m going to walk you to your door, but then you’re on your own.” I’m sure as hell not tucking her in. I’ve done my duty and then some.

  I hold her arm and walk beside her. She fumbles after two steps and almost goes down, but I catch her in my arms. Her head falls to my chest leaving me staring at the top of her head. “Uh, Sandy, now’s not the time for a nap. Come on, help me out here.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders and carefully walk her to the door. Once we’re inside I direct her to the elevator and prop her against the wall while I push the button for the third floor. There’s no way she’d make it up the stairs. This is the quickest method of getting her to her room.

  The door opens and my arm returns to her shoulders. Just a few more minutes and you’ll be done, I remind myself. We move down the brightly lit hallway and Sandy tucks her face into my chest to escape the brightness. We pass a few people walking in the other direction and I nod, acknowledging them. One girl speeds by us, clearly annoyed at our slow pace. I ignore the awkwardness of the situation and hope no one recognizes me as we keep making forward progress until we’re standing in front of her door. It’s about fucking time.

  “Get your keys out.”

  “It’s unlocked,” she murmurs.

  I turn the knob and push the door open, leading her inside. I direct her over to her bed and she falls onto the mattress with a groan of relief. “Thank you.”

  Moving back to the door, I peer over my shoulder to make sure she’s still lying there. “Sleep it off.”

  I hurry back to my illegally parked car and find a cop writing me a ticket. Goddammit. No good deed goes unfucking punished. “Wait, I’m right here,” I shout, hurrying toward him.

  “Too late, buddy. Here you go.” He peels the ticket from the pad and tucks it under the wiper, even though I’m standing right near him. What a dick.

  Biting my tongue, I hold back all the expletives I want to shout at him and grab the offensive orange paper before climbing in the driver’s side. I throw the ticket on the passenger seat and begin the drive home. My hands clench the wheel with fury and the leather creaks. This night has been a complete shit show, and I know Grace is going to be pissed at me too. What else can possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Grace

  I never heard from Trevor last night, not even a text message. I don’t know what’s going on with him. I’m doing my best not to let my imagination get carried away, but it’s difficult not to when he’s been acting out of character.

  My mind wanders as I walk down the sidewalk on my way to class. There have been a few times lately where he had something planned, but never explained exactly what it was he was doing. I’m all for us not spending every moment together; everyone needs time alone. But I’m not okay with him being evasive about his whereabouts and leaving me to wonder. I’m up front and I expect the same from him.

  Although, he’s never been in a relationship before. Maybe he doesn’t understand the basic unspoken rules of being committed to someone. I guess we need to have a talk so I can explain how a healthy relationship functions.

  My stomach tosses and turns as I open the front door of the building and it continues to rumble all the way to my classroom. I’m torn between being happy to see him and upset that he dusted me last night. Especially with it being my birthday. I know I saw him earlier in the night, but I guess after the poem he wrote for me, I expected a sweet goodnight text. A quick phone conversation would’ve gone a long way too.

  I’m running early when I enter the classroom. I was hoping Trevor would be here and we’d have a few minutes to talk, but he’s not. There’s a cluster of tittering girls standing around checking out something on a phone. Their comments reach me as I slink down onto my seat, dropping my backpack on the floor.

  �
��What a dog.”

  “Oh God, she has no idea.”

  “I feel bad for her.”

  “I don’t. She knew what she was getting into when she agreed to date him.”

  “Yeah, but still. No one deserves that.”

  “She’s so plain. How did she think she’d hold his interest?”

  Leaning my elbows on the desk, I drop my head forward, resting my palms against each temple. This day has barely begun and I’m already exhausted. I slept horribly. I must’ve checked my phone ten times during the night to see if Trevor had texted or called and I somehow missed it.

  The sound of shoes shuffling against the tile floor next to me has my head raising. I frown when I realize it’s not Trevor.

  “Hi, I’m Mia.” She sits in the seat Trevor usually occupies.

  “I’m Grace.”

  “Yeah, I know who you are. You’re dating Trevor Lincoln, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know we haven’t officially met, but there’s something I think you should see.” She holds her phone out and nods for me to take it from her. Tentatively, I reach out and she lays it in my palm. Bringing it over in front of me, I stare down at the screen and notice it’s on The Boston Terriers Buzz Blog. The post headline reads - Which Terrier Tight End has been stepping out on his girlfriend?

  October 7th

  If you thought Trevor Lincoln having a serious relationship wouldn’t last, looks like you were right. He was seen last night entering the dorm room of a well known cheerleader.

  Don’t believe me?

  Check out the pics below, they tell you all you need to know. A picture’s worth a thousand words - I can think of a few choice ones.

  How about asshole? Cheater? Swine?

  Stay tuned for my next post when I’ll be following up on the situation.

  Can he worm his way out of this predicament?

  What are your thoughts on the recent development?

  Will Grace forgive him?

  A buff body and a crooked smile can only garner so much forgiveness. I don’t care what he says or who his daddy is, this is reprehensible behavior and I hope Grace kicks him to the curb. She can do better.

  Oh my God. My eyes practically pop from their sockets as I stare at the pictures of Trevor holding Sandy on the sidewalk outside his Range Rover. There are pictures of them entering the building and more of them walking down the hallway with his arm around her. Each one looks more intimate than the last. The final pic is of him entering her room.

  My heart pangs with despair. I think I’m going to be sick.

  The cellphone falls from my fingers to the desktop. I’m numb from head to toe. Except for the agonizing pain racking my chest, like a vise squeezing tighter with each turn.

  Mia picks up the forgotten phone and rises to her feet. My gaze once more lands on an image of Trevor and Sandy displayed on her screen.

  “I’m sorry. I just thought you should know. You deserve better.”

  Swallowing over the tennis ball sized lump in my throat, I nod, averting my tear filled eyes as she walks away. How could he do this to me? He said he loved me and I believed him. Why did he work so hard to get me to go out with him? Was this all a game? I wish he’d left me alone. I was doing fine before he came along.

  Professor Gordon enters the class before I have a chance to get my bearings, but I refuse to budge from my chair and walk out. It would only give everyone who saw the post something to talk about. Poor Grace couldn’t handle the news. I think they have enough to gossip about.

  I’m so stunned from the events of the past hour, I don’t even realize Trevor didn’t show up to class until there’s only fifteen minutes left. He’s probably sleeping in with Sandy. What a fucker. I don’t know if I’m more angry with him for disappointing me, or myself for falling for his bullshit.

  I pack my backpack and sneak out two minutes prior to the end of class. I don’t want to get caught in the hallway by other students and I definitely can’t deal with anyone talking to me about it.

  I race to the front of the building and burst through the door. I leap down the three steps on the small staircase and run down the sidewalk until I’ve put some distance between the building and me. I don’t even know where I’m going. Everything’s a blur because all I can think of is Trevor’s betrayal.

  No destination in mind, I wander aimlessly along the city streets while my thoughts are ceaselessly on Trevor. What went wrong? Was this always his plan? And if so what did he hope to gain from it?

  I find a bakery on Newbury Street, far enough from school that I shouldn’t see anyone. I order a coffee; I’m too nauseous to eat any food. Taking my cup, I amble toward the farthest back corner to find a seat. I want to be invisible and alone in my devastation. I don’t need any witnesses to see what a wreck I am. The last thing I need is my splotchy face and teary eyes plastered all over that blog page.

  Slipping into a booth, I face away from the rest of the room and succumb to the sadness. Tears begin to rapidly flow; I’ve held them in as long as I could. They pour down my cheeks in a salty deluge and there’s no end in sight. As fast as I wipe them away, they reappear until I give up and let them fall where they may. My shirt is wet and my nose is plugged when I finally calm enough to send Amelia and Leah a text.

  Me: I’m at Nina’s Bakery on Newbury Street. I need you guys. Can you come ASAP?

  Seconds later my phone receives a text.

  Leah: I’ll leave the dorm now. Be there soon.

  She knows I’d never ask this of her if I didn’t really need her.

  I’ve barely finished reading Leah’s reply when I receive one from Amelia.

  Amelia: I’m out of class in five. I’ll head there right away.

  Their reactions make me sniffle even more. I have great friends. They’re understanding and caring.

  While I’m waiting for them to arrive I want to crawl out of my own skin. I’m so antsy and anxious. I still haven’t heard from Trevor. Should I text him? If he wanted to talk to me he could’ve texted me by now. But I don’t want him to think I’m running scared either. Even though it feels exactly like I’m doing that.

  I type out a message and hit send before I can overthink it anymore.

  Me: What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you since yesterday.

  While I wait for a reply, my fingernails repeatedly drum on the table until I drive myself crazy with the sound. After five minutes he still hasn’t replied and I need a distraction until my friends arrive. I must be certifiable to do this, but I pull up the Boston Terriers Buzz Blog and reread the post. I study the pictures and after careful examination I’m sure they’re not photoshopped. They’re perfectly clear and I recognize the watch Trevor is wearing. He had it on at dinner last night. Ironically, I liked the way it looked on his thick wrist. I’m not liking it so much after seeing it on him in these pictures.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Leah appears beside me, placing a hand on my arm.

  “We bumped into each other on the way,” Amelia explains.

  “I’m so glad you guys are here.” My voice quivers. Leah sits across from me and Amelia slides onto the vacant chair beside me.

  “What’s going on?” Amelia gets right to the point.

  “That Boston Terriers Buzz Blog broke a story about Trevor cheating on me.”

  “No way.” Leah shakes her head. “He’s crazy about you.”

  Using my index finger I slide my phone across the table to her. “It’s true.”

  Her eyes show surprise as she reads the post. Amelia wraps her arm around me, squeezing my shoulder, lending her quiet strength.

  “What the fuck?” Leah blurts out, handing the phone to Amelia. “I can’t believe this. I want to kick his ass for you.”

  Amelia’s eyes sweep over the post, a frown digging a deep groove between her brows as she reads on. She shakes her head and then raises her eyes to look at Leah and I. “I just can’t believe he’d do this. He’s in love with you. I can tell.�
��

  “Guys in love cheat too.”

  “Yeah, I guess. This doesn’t make sense though. There’s got to be some kind of explanation.” She sets the phone on the table in front of me.

  “Maybe he was drunk. Guys do dumb things when their faculties are dulled.” Leah shrugs.

  My eyes drift down to the comments below the pictures and I immediately regret going there.

  What does she expect? Guys like a girl who’s a girl. Not one who plays football. - TellMeMore

  She’s a ginger. She has no soul. - Blond4tw

  Maybe he found a dick under all those football pads? - laughsalot

  She’s not his type. I knew it wouldn’t last. Trevor give me a call. I’ll share. - Millie

  Who is this chick anyway? - Princess

  “Ugh, why are people such assholes? They don’t even know me or what I’m going through and they’re going to make shitty comments. This is bullshit. I can’t read any more of this crap.” I set my phone down disgusted with myself for reading what they had to say. And even more so I’m disappointed their uninformed words have the power to hurt me. They don’t know me and yet they offer their unwanted opinions.

  Leah snatches my phone up and her angry countenance gives her mood away. “This is the danger of social media. People feel entitled to say whatever they want as if it’s fact and all the keyboard warriors jump on board.”

  “And no one wants to disagree with the bullies because they might become the next victim they call out. It’s a vicious, unfortunate cycle perpetuated by people with nothing better to do.”

  “Just ignore this shit, Grace. None of these people matter.”

  “I know they don’t. But they sure enjoy kicking me when I’m down. It’s hard enough to be cheated on, but when there are hundreds of ignorant comments from people you don’t know weighing in on what you must’ve done wrong, it really sucks. And you know some people will read this garbage and take it as gospel.”