by KB Winters
“Well he’s lucky he has you on his side,” I said, offering her a smile. “You know, you should talk to Cassie. She’s really involved with the community because of her job. She has a lot of connections and might be able to help you.”
Gwen nodded. “That’s a good idea. Guess I know what we can talk about on the flight home.”
“Thanks for going out with them last night.”
“Of course! I really like Cassie. Are you and Langston really good friends?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “We’ve been on the team together for a little while but before Langston met Cassie he was…different.”
Gwen laughed softly. “I could see that. She’s his counterbalance.”
“He’s slowed down and we have a lot more in common now. Or at least it feels that way. There’s a certain stigma that accompanies being a baller, I guess. For every party hard, light it up kind of guy, there’s another one who has a wife and kids and tries to get home to read bedtime stories and spends the off season at the zoo, instead of living it up in Cabo.”
“So, before Cassie, Langston was the baller and you…well, you’re more of the second guy.”
“Minus the wife and kids,” I added. “Most nights when I leave practice or a game it’s to go home and take a long shower, crash out in my recliner, and watch replay games.”
Gwen tilted her head, studying me for longer than normal, and I resisted the urge to shift in my seat. Sometimes when she looked at me that way, it was like my skin was transparent and she could see everything. I wasn’t trying to hide from her, but the sensation was unnerving when I’d spent decades learning to keep to myself.
“All right, what is it?” I said, no longer able to remain quiet under her thoughtful gaze.
Gwen blinked and the intent look in her eyes softened. “Nothing.”
“You’re thinking I’m a sad case.”
“No. Not at all. I’m just wondering what it was that attracted you to this life. I mean, there’s the love of the game, that much is obvious. But you’re right, the stereotype of a pro football player doesn’t line up with your personality at all. At least, not as far as I can tell. So, what am I missing?”
“You’re not missing anything. I played every sport I could when I was in grade school and then middle school. When I got to high school, my freshman year, I didn’t do any sports. Things at home were rocky and my mom, rather, her husband, wouldn’t pay for me to play sports. But there was a teacher who I was close with and he found a way for me to get a scholarship to pay for it. That was the only way I was able to play. So, I played harder than ever, as a way of showing whoever that anonymous donor was that their money was being put to good use. Back then, I sure as hell never thought I’d be in the NFL. That just happened. I mean…seriously, I’ve been sittin’ on the damn bench for years. Now this. We just won. Again. I’m totally fucking flabbergasted. It’s like the heavens opened up and The Man Upstairs threw down miracle after miracle.”
“Good thing He did.” Gwen smiled and pushed around a cube of watermelon on her plate. “What would you do if you weren’t playing football? What would you be doing? Surely you thought about it when you were in college and didn’t know if you’d get drafted.”
“Sure,” I agreed, setting down my own fork. I reached for my coffee. “I was taking accounting classes. I was gonna be some suit and tie guy with a corner office and a briefcase.”
Gwen smiled. “Good with numbers and with your hands. My, my, Mr. Stiles, you are quite the catch,” she said, giving me a wink.
“Well I must be doing something right, baby. You’re here with me.”
Chapter Eighteen
Gwen
Our breakfast came to a quick close when Carson’s teammates crashed the party, playfully snatching up his leftovers while they dragged him away. We stole one quick kiss—to the cheers and catcalls of three of his teammates—and then he was gone. I carted my suitcase out to the lobby and was about to ask the front desk clerk to call me a taxi when Cassie appeared at my side. “Come on, girl. Carson and Langston arranged a ride for us.”
“Oh?” I followed her outside and spotted a sleek SUV with dark tint on the windows. A driver in a polished, all-black suit stood at the ready and sprang into action as Cassie and I headed his way.
Everything about Carson’s life was a whirlwind. When it was just the two of us, alone, or lost in conversation like we had been over breakfast, it felt normal, like he was just a normal guy. Maybe the accountant, from hearing his version of how his life might have played out if he hadn’t been drafted. But then, everything would go crazy all over again, and I was left reeling, once I remembered that his life was far from normal and that as long as I was a part of it, mine wasn’t likely to be either.
“Does this whole thing ever get easier?” I asked Cassie, leaning back against the seat.
Cassie flashed a crooked smile. “You mean less surreal?”
I nodded. “I guess so.”
She gave me a slight shrug. “If it does, I haven’t hit that part yet. It’s all still fun and exciting right now. Although, I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was also exhausting at times. I don’t come to all Langston’s away games, but when I do, it’s always this kind of mad dash.”
“What’s it like when he’s home?”
“Pretty normal, I guess. I mean, we make a point to do breakfast together. Him, me, and Kenzie, his foster daughter. Then he goes to practice, I go to work, and Kenzie goes to school and physical therapy. Most nights, when there isn’t a game, at least, he’s home for dinner and we have a pretty low key night. Game nights are a different story and yeah, it’s rough when he’s traveling, but it’s all worth it. He’s worth it.”
I envied the stars in her eyes look. I was crazy for Carson, but I didn’t feel anywhere near ready to settle into a routine or start envisioning a real life with him. Cassie had the ring, the house, the promise for the future. Meanwhile, my life was still idling, ready to take off at any given moment, and when that time came, I wasn’t sure it would be going in a direction Carson could follow.
The SUV pulled off the highway and I glanced over my shoulder, out the dark window, and saw the airport coming into focus. Cassie wound her shoulder length hair into a topknot, slid on a pair of dark sunglasses, and slung her travel bag over her shoulder. She looked like a pro.
The driver dropped us off at the departure lane and we hustled through the check-in process before making our way to a coffee shop and then a first-class lounge. I’d never flown first class before the trip, and had never imagined I’d set foot in a fancy first class lounge. I tried to keep my cool, but as I sipped my coffee, I found myself perking up every time someone new came in through the doors, silently hoping to catch sight of Chris Hemsworth or Emma Watson.
When we boarded the plane, Cassie and I were seated next to each other and quickly made ourselves comfortable. Once the plane was mid-air, I rooted through my shoulder bag stashed above us in an overhead compartment, and found the plastic folder I used to keep notes and details about Vinnie’s case. I was set to meet with the public defender’s office in the morning and wanted to be refreshed, even though I knew I had the details of the case committed to memory.
“What’s that?” Cassie asked as I sank back down into my seat.
“This is the case I’m trying to get reopened,” I explained, pulling back the cover of the folder. “It’s a friend of the family who got caught in a wrong place, wrong time situation.”
“Wait a minute,” Cassie said, reaching for the folder. She stopped short and glanced up at me through her thick, dark lashes. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead,” I replied, waving my hand over the stack of papers inside the cover. Nothing about it was confidential, and even if it was, I’d come to trust Cassie.
She peeled back the pages and picked out a picture that was paper-clipped to the stack. It was a photo of Vivi and Vinnie, back in high school. Vivi was sixteen, Vinnie eighteen, right on the cusp of gra
duation. They were smiling, their arms around each other, posed in front of a highway sign for Orlando, Florida. They were with their parents, on their way to Disney World for spring break. I remembered seeing the picture later and teasing Vinnie for just being excited about going to the beach and spying on girls in bikinis.
“I know them, Vivian and Vincent Monroe, right?” Cassie asked, glancing up from the picture.
“Yeah.” My eyebrows worked their way together. “How do you know them?”
“I think they went to Harvest House when they were young, way before I got there,” she said, tapping her nail on the picture where he stood. “But this Vinnie guy came back a few times a month to volunteer on the boys’ side.”
“He did?”
Cassie nodded. “Yeah. We weren’t close or anything, but I knew of him.” She shook her head. “This is so weird. I was just going through some footage of an old basketball tournament. I’m making a video to send to our top donors to encourage them to send their year-end support before the tax year is over. I think he was in one of the videos. He looks really familiar. Damn. What a small world.”
“That’s quite the coincidence,” I said, adding the fact to my notes. Showing that he was an asset to the community would speak to his character if I could wiggle it into my presentation somehow. “Do you think I could get a copy of the footage?”
“Sure. Come by the center tomorrow and I’ll have a copy ready for you.”
“Thanks, Cassie.”
“Of course.” She handed the picture back over. “He’s a good kid. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I put the picture back under the paper clip. “He was on his way home from—” I stopped, feeling my eyes go wide. I whipped around in my seat so that I was facing Cassie. “He was on his way home from a basketball game! Where—I mean, when was this tournament? Do you remember the date?”
Cassie blinked a few times, startled by my reaction. “Umm, it was the summer time. I remember that. Three…no…four years ago. It would have been August—”
“August 19th?”
She searched my eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t remember the actual date. It could have been.”
I dragged in a deep breath. It all fit. “Vinnie was on his way home from a basketball game. I paused and licked my lips. “I don’t know if you know, but Vinnie is on the high-functioning end of the autism spectrum. He’s independent and is able to live on his own, but he has episodes where he gets agitated and has trouble getting himself under control.” A familiar stab at my chest tore away my words. I hated the idea of him in prison, knowing that he was likely targeted and made fun of because of his condition. Tears pricked at my eyes and I blinked them away, trying to banish the worst-case scenario images that tended to take root if I allowed myself to think about it for too long. “Anyway, around that same time, there was a robbery in the area.”
“Of the 7-11 down the street?”
“No, outside, down the alley. A man was attacked and robbed by some guy with a knife and took his wallet and watch. After that, he was beat up pretty badly. When the police started canvassing the area, they picked up Vinnie, based on his demeanor, basically.”
“And that was enough to get him arrested?”
“No. But when they slipped Vinnie into a visual line up, the victim ID’ed him. I don’t know why, but that was enough to pick Vinnie up and after several hours of interrogation, he broke down and confessed, so they arrested him. I know it had to have been a dirty cop, just pushing him to confess. Vinnie wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Damn,” Cassie said, her eyes squeezed shut.
“He’s a good kid. Like I said, it was the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn’t do this. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”
“Stories like this just make my blood boil.”
I nodded. “Mine too, but it’s especially painful when he’s been in my life since I was young. His sister, Vivi, is one of my oldest friends. We’ve known each other since first grade.”
Cassie placed a hand over mine as I clutched the folder filled with my notes and research. “Well, I’m glad they have someone like you on their side.”
“Me too. Especially since their parents are broke now trying to get him out.” I added, shaking my head. “They even had to sell their house. It’s totally fucked up.”
“Oh no, that’s too bad.”
“Right? As soon as Vinnie went to prison, they put everything they had into getting him out. I think he needs some real defense. Not saying I’m the best, hell, I don’t even have my license yet, but I’m gonna put everything I have into getting him out”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, well, if you have video that would totally help. I can’t believe they didn’t talk to the center.”
“I remember the story and the police being there, and I know they talked to the boys’ old director, Ed Grant, but he’s passed away now. But, we’ll get you the video. Maybe there’ll be something in it that can help. And if there is anything else Harvest House can do, let me know and I’ll see to it personally.”
“Thanks, Cassie. I really appreciate that. Viv and Vinnie need all the friends and support they can get. It’s been a long battle.”
Cassie nodded and I turned back to face forward. She left me alone as I dug in the notes, filled with a renewed vigor to finally be able to do something other than just stand on the sidelines and wring my hands while others tried to figure it out. They had all failed Vinnie and I refused to let that happen again.
No matter the cost.
Chapter Nineteen
Gwen
The days all warped together once I got back to Bitsburg. I spent most of them locked away in my room, studying my notes and making phone calls to get advice on how to proceed.
Carson was busy with the team, getting ready for the last playoff game, but he’d made me swear that I’d set aside my research for one night, New Year’s Eve. So, at seven o’clock, on the thirty-first, I was decked out in a sleek black dress that was cut in a figure-flattering mermaid cut and was destined to make Carson’s eyes pop out of his head. Among other things…
The doorbell rang and my heart leapt into my throat. I fluffed my hair, ran my finger around the edges of my lips to swipe away any excess lipstick—fire engine red, because, why not—and then hurried to the door.
“Gwenie! James Bond’s here to pick you up,” Aunt Maggie bellowed up the stairs.
I rolled my eyes and placed my hand on the banister, channeling my inner Scarlet O’Hara as I started to descend. Carson was waiting for me at the bottom, and as expected, his eyes went wide at the sight of me. I also noted he shifted his weight back and forth as his eyes roamed over my hips and back up to my generously displayed cleavage, propped up with the magic of what seemed like an entire roll of double sided sticky tape.
“Damn girl! You are beautiful,” he managed, immediately drawing me into his arms. He pressed his lips against my ear, “There’s no fuckin’ way we’re making our dinner reservations.”
My cheeks warmed as I noted that we had a three person audience. “You don’t look too bad yourself, you know, for a big football dude.”
Carson chuckled as he released me. I took another look at him, wearing a suit that was tailored so well it hurt. Maybe he was right…dinner was overrated.
“Can I take a picture?” my mom asked, holding up her phone.
I laughed. “We’re not going to the prom,” I said, still laughing as she snapped one anyway.
“Come on, baby. Let’s do this prom style,” Carson said, spinning me around. He held me tight, his hands on my waist, and I bit my lip as his cock pressed into my ass. I dragged in a steeling breath and then plastered on my best prom smile for my mom as she snapped a picture.
“Thank you, Carson,” my mom said, shooting me a look. “At least one of you will humor me.”
I playfully slapped Carson’s arm as he beamed at my mom over my head. “He’s just trying to suc
k up because he wants some more of that chocolate torte you made at Christmas.”
“Any time, dear.” My mom winked at Carson and pocketed her phone. Aunt Maggie and my dad laughed from their place by the doorway to the den.
“Have a good night, you two,” my dad said. “Drive safe.”
“Don’t take any unmarked pills,” Aunt Maggie chimed in. We all swiveled to look at her, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on all of our faces. She shrugged. “Just sayin’…”
My dad wrapped an arm around her shoulder and directed her back to the den. “Have fun.”
“Bring me some party favors!” Aunt Maggie called out as she was herded away.
“Ready?” Carson asked, holding up my long black coat.
I giggled. “More than you could ever imagine.”
The look in his eyes told me that maybe he could.
****
The first stop of the night—after a playful argument in the car over whether or not to skip out on the event—we ended up at the venue, a little more wrinkled than when we left my parents’ house. Langston, Cassie, and Kenzie were the first to greet us to the party which was a charity event put on by Langston and Cassie’s newly formed non-profit organization. They wanted to throw a big, year-end event and decided New Year’s Eve was the perfect night to invite their family, friends, and sponsors and colleagues to come out and enjoy an elegant party and dinner. Langston invited us the week before, right after the New York game, and we both agreed it would be fun.
“Cassie, you look gorgeous,” I said into her hair as we exchanged a quick embrace. She was decked out in a peacock blue gown and more diamonds than I could even count.
“Um, no, you look stunning!”
“Thank you.” I glanced down at my dress, a gift from Carson. He’d arranged for me to have a shopping day at one of Bitsburg’s most exclusive boutiques and they’d fitted the dress custom for me right before the dinner.
