Five-Star

by J Santiago

  “Tank,” she murmured as she laid her head back on his shoulder, “do you know why Franco wanted you to look into Rowdy Daniels?”

  He stiffened a bit. “To be honest, since you started talking, I forgot that I’d brought it up.”

  “He wanted you to figure out what had happened to Rowdy so that you would stay away from me,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Why would Franco care about who I’m with? And why would he want me to stay away from you?”

  “Because he’s my father.”

  Twenty-Four

  “Mike Franco is your father?” he asked, knowing he hadn’t misheard her but hoping he had.

  “Yes.”

  “But your last name isn’t Franco.”

  “No. My mother gave up custody to him when I was born but not before she gave me her last name. By the time anyone thought about changing it, they were more concerned about protecting me. So, it just made sense to keep my name.”

  “I didn’t even know Franco had a daughter.”

  “It’s a complicated and involved story. One for maybe another night when you don’t want to get any sleep.”

  At her gentle reminder about the time, Tank looked over and groaned at the lateness of the hour. “Fuck, it’s late.”

  “I’m sorry,” Amber said, meaning it. “I shouldn’t keep you up so late.”

  He hugged her closer to him and rubbed his chin on the top of her head. “I’ll give up sleep anytime you need to talk.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t need to talk, Tank.”

  He lifted her and set her on his right thigh so that he could look at her. “You had a full-blown panic attack at the mention of that motherfucker’s name. You might not think you needed it, but you definitely did.”

  She merely nodded at him, and he knew she was just appeasing him, not really agreeing with him, but he was so tired that he let it go.

  “Franco’s your father,” he said as he studied her. “Same eyes,” he observed.

  Nodding her agreement, she continued to stare at him.

  “He saw that picture of us. He must have wanted to kick my ass.” He smiled but managed to hold back a laugh. “I’m surprised he didn’t lay me out.”

  For some reason, that made Amber burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah, I’m pretty sure he wanted to.”

  “I know I should be feeling some sorta way about this, but I think there’s way too much to think about for me to work up any kind of emotion.” He flashed her a weary smile. “I think, tomorrow, I’m going to be mad at him for manipulating me, but it’s going to have to wait until then.”

  “I get that,” she said.

  He shifted her between his legs and pulled her back into his chest.

  “Will you stay?” he asked. He put it out there like a question, wanting her to feel like she had a choice. If she insisted she wanted to leave, he’d deal with that when it happened.

  “Yeah.”

  He knew he shouldn’t push her, but he wanted it all, all she was willing to give. So, he pressed forward. “Tell me the rest of it. Tell me about this,” he said as he gently ran his hand down her scar.

  He felt her inhale and thought she was going to shut him down. “Uh, let’s see…ruptured spleen, punctured lung, the ribs on my left side were all broken. All the bones and my ankle on my right side were crushed. And, my face, the windshield shattered, some spattered battery acid from the impact. My jaw and cheekbone were shattered. You think this looks scary now; you should have seen me right after the accident.”

  “It doesn’t look scary,” Tank said. “It looks pretty badass.”

  He got the reaction he had been searching for when she laughed.

  “Again, you’re a perv.”

  “Yeah, maybe a little,” he said, laughing lightly.

  “You need to get some sleep.”

  Glancing at the clock again, Tank figured he’d forfeited his night of sleep, but he imagined she was spent. Turning off the light, he pulled her down next to him and wrapped her in his arms.

  “Sleep,” he murmured in her ear.

  Tank felt all the tension release from her body as she gave in to her exhaustion. He seemed to absorb it. Watching the clock as it ticked closer and closer to morning, he thought of all they’d shared over the last couple of hours. He looked down at her, cocooned in his arms, and wondered what it’d cost her to talk to him tonight. The memory of her panic attack played across his mind. How did she carry the weight of her story around with her all the time?

  What is it about this girl?

  Tank had never been in love; he’d probably have a hard time figuring it all out. Since he was fifteen, everything had been about him. His mom had definitely kept his ego in check when he was in high school, but when he thought about what he’d done, who he’d been with over the last few years, he admitted to himself that it was a bit shocking.

  He’d always kind of wondered why girls were so impressed by someone who could throw a football—not just girls, but everyone. What the fuck did he know about life? He hadn’t come up with a cure for cancer, saved a buddy on the battlefields of Afghanistan or Iraq, or contributed to alleviating water and food shortages in Africa. He was a twenty-one-year-old kid who lived in a bubble, was catered to, and played football. And, for some reason, it meant he had an unlimited supply of women who wanted to sleep with him, people who wanted to talk to him, and kids who wanted to grow up to be like him.

  And what was Franco’s game?

  Tank had held back much of his surprise when she dropped that on him. From their conversation, he already knew Amber and her dad had a contentious relationship. He’d seen her twice after she’d had a fight with him, and her reactions had been extreme.

  Was Franco trying to get him to stay away from her, or did he have some other motivation for sending him down the Rowdy path? And why now?

  They were six games into the season—halfway—and undefeated. Tank was leading in the Heisman race. He didn’t think being with Amber was affecting his play, and he was pretty sure Franco would have a hard time saying that he wasn’t focused.

  So, did this have to do with him or with Amber?

  It was a conversation he needed to have with Franco.

  Glancing again at the clock, he was relieved to see it was six and that he needed to get up. He untangled himself from Amber, dropped a kiss on her head and headed to the shower. He got ready, grabbed his stuff, and sent her a quick text, so she’d see it when she got up.

  He wanted to see her tonight, but he knew his body was going to be shot. He needed sleep. But he didn’t want her to think he’d freaked out and that he didn’t want to see her. He knew he couldn’t make a worse move than not being around for her tonight. And when it hit him that he didn’t want to make a wrong move with her, he almost groaned. He didn’t want to think about the fact that the one girl he actually wanted was his coach’s daughter, that the one girl he found himself caring about had more shit in her past than he did.

  Fuck, he thought as turned back to looked down at her sleeping, what is it about this girl?

  Tank had to be in the training room by seven. His first class was at nine thirty, and then his next class was at eleven. He wasn’t hurt, but the constant pounding had taken a toll, and he liked to stay on top of the aches and pains. He’d briefly forgotten that he’d texted Glenna in the midst of Amber’s panic attack but she hadn’t. Glenna enjoyed distance from her student-athletes personal woes, which was one of the reasons he’d chosen to text her.

  While she hooked him up to the electrical stimulation machine, she merely asked, “Everything work out okay last night? You didn’t answer my text.”

  “Shit, sorry. Things got a little intense.”

  At Glenna’s raised hand waving him off, he stopped his explanation, thankful once again for her need-to-know attitude.

  When he finished rehab, texted Steele.

  The girl—she’s Franco’s daughter. ☹

  LMFAO. How did he not kick you
r ass?

  Lamarcus was always good for some perspective.

  Tank had a twelve-thirty appointment with his academic adviser because registration for next spring was the following week. He grabbed a quick lunch and had position meetings at two fifteen. They had to be on the field at three thirty.

  As he made his way out there, he felt the weight of the night pressing down on him. He was nervous about looking Franco in the eyes, knowing how he’d had his daughter. He was anxious and weary. For the first time all season, he felt unfocused. He kept thinking about the night before—Amber’s tale, his story. He kept seeing her in the midst of her panic attack, her eyes focused only on the past. It hit him right then as they were about to run through their first series of plays. He completely got Franco’s motivation.

  He heard the call, ran the play, and hit Iman with a perfect pass. As they were about to start the next series, he stepped away, breaking the rhythm.

  He walked toward Franco, not really knowing what he was going to say or even why he needed to say it right now. But he was having a hard time continuing without flashes of Amber interrupting his concentration.

  “What’s going on?” Franco asked as Tank approached him.

  This wasn’t a normal occurrence. Any conferences on the practice field were called by Franco.

  Tank removed his helmet, another oddity. His quarterback coach walked toward them, but he was waved off by Franco, as if he knew what Tank needed to say.

  Franco eyed him, and Tank knew he knew.

  “I did your research.”

  “Okay,” Franco said quietly, maybe trying to calm the confusion.

  “I didn’t know she was your daughter. But it wouldn’t have made any difference. I’m all in.”

  “I counted on that,” Franco answered matter-of-factly.

  Tank nodded his head, telling Franco that he’d known that already. “Why that way?”

  Franco signaled for the backup quarterback and for his coaches to move forward with practice. Tank could feel the flurry of activity start. He and Franco moved away from practice, toward the other end of the field.

  “Somehow, I didn’t imagine this conversation taking place in the middle of my practice,” he said, rebuking Tank for the timing. Tank shrugged – Franco had started this. “I saw you two together. And, for the first time in I can’t remember how long, I heard her laugh. She used to have a laugh that made you want to join her.”

  Franco looked away, maybe trying to collect his thoughts. Tank wasn’t sure, but he waited patiently.

  “I’m not sure if I did the right thing. That’s the shit thing about being a parent. You’re kind of flying blind. But she was opening up to you, and I thought you could help her. I wanted you to help her because I’m not the right messenger for her, and I want my daughter back.”

  Franco placed his hand on Tank’s shoulder pads, looking him directly in his eyes. Tank was struck by how similar Amber’s eyes were to Franco’s.

  “But it didn’t have everything to do with her. What she’ll think is that I did it to save you. She’ll know that I wouldn’t want you to get blindsided by her past, and I wouldn’t want you to be tangled up in the emotional mess that is in her head right now. I want both of you to come out of this better and stronger. That wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t know what had made her who she is right now. So, I threw you the Rowdy bone, hoping that you would run with it.”

  “I did. I didn’t mean to, but I ran with it.” Tank paused, thinking about Amber and who he knew she was. “She might not forgive you for it.”

  “Oh, don’t think that I don’t know that. But when it came down to what was more important to me, I was a bit shocked by the realization that there’s no contest. She’s my life. If she can get better, whole, with you, then I don’t care if she hates me for the rest of her life. Sometimes, it’s just the price we have to pay as parents, and I’m willing to pay any price for her…” There was a notable pause. “Are you good, Tank?”

  “Yeah, I’m good, Coach.”

  Twenty-Five

  Sometimes, Amber hated the empty spaces of time in her day that weren’t occupied by work or rehab. Boredom could be difficult to handle when your mind had all sorts of events and emotions to pick through. Knowing that today of all days, there was a litany of things that could preoccupy her, she headed into the Bear’s Den, hoping to pick up the lunch shift and stay through dinner. As she walked through the doors, she realized her intent had been much more focused than she was willing to admit to herself because the only one behind the bar today, on a very slow day, was Keira.

  Sliding onto one of the barstools by the service bar, where most patrons knew not to sit because of the constant stream of servers retrieving drinks, Amber grabbed a menu and waited for Keira to make her way over to her.

  “Hey,” Keira said with a smile. “Are you actually thinking about eating?”

  “Hi,” Amber returned, looking up from the menu. “Yeah, I’m kinda hungry.”

  Keira looked her over. “Well, that’s different. What do you want?”

  “Still looking.”

  “Do you really need to look? The menu hasn’t changed in fifteen years.”

  “I know. But I’m not sure what I want. I figure, something will jump out at me.”

  Shrugging, Keira turned away to check on her other customers. Circuit complete, she returned and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar. “So, what’s happening with you? I’ve heard some rumors, but I’m not sure I believe them.” When Amber lowered the menu to look at her, she continued, “Is it true that you actually tracked Tank down and maybe apologized to him? Because that’s what I heard, but it doesn’t sound like my best friend, so I’ve chosen to be skeptical.”

  Amber smiled. “Maybe. There might actually be some truth to that.”

  Keira raised both hands to her cheeks and widened her eyes, feigning surprise. “Oh, my. Whatever has gotten into you?”

  “Tank Howard,” Amber answered with a mischievous grin spreading across her face, actually lighting her eyes.

  Keira drew back, in true shock this time. “Are you smiling?”

  “Maybe?” she said with a question in her voice.

  “I don’t mean to go all dramatic on you, but it’s been a long time since I’ve actually seen you truly smile. I missed it.”

  At Keira’s seriousness, the smile disappeared from Amber’s face. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m really happy to see you smiling. Please don’t apologize.”

  Amber took her statement for what it was worth and shrugged, not fighting the smile that somehow couldn’t stay away. Knowing she needed to talk to someone other than Tank, she leaned back in her chair and braced herself for what was about to come out of her mouth. “My father asked Tank to do some research on Rowdy.” She tested his name on her lips. When no residual panic ensued, she continued, “Tank asked me about it in passing, not having any idea what it all meant. And I had a massive panic attack. Like batshit crazy panic attack.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes at Keira. “I’m talking beyond batshit.”

  “Do you get that phrase yet? ’Cause I really don’t. Batshit crazy. Very strange.”

  Amber laughed. “Well, it’s a good way to describe the way I acted. Anyway, after I came out of it, he made me tell him what had triggered it. And I did. I told him everything, Keira. All the stuff I haven’t been able to say, things I haven’t told you or Franco…I put it all out there.”

  There was no faking the astonishment on Keira’s face. “I know I should be a little jealous that you can talk to him and not me, but I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you are finally talking to someone. How do you feel? You look really good.”

  “I don’t think I feel any different. Maybe. I don’t know. Everyone says you’re supposed to feel lighter after sharing, but I didn’t feel that way. I felt a bit exposed, really vulnerable, and a little cray-cray.”

&n
bsp; Keira rolled her eyes. “You are not cray-cray,” she said, laughing lightly.

  She reached over and took one of Keira’s hands in hers. “I was a little crazy for a while. I am really sorry I kept you out. I just didn’t want you to think I needed anyone. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  Keira looked around the bar, still holding on to Amber’s hand but making a production out of looking for something.

  “What?” Amber asked.

  “Am I being punked? Or did you just offer me a crumb of an explanation?”

  Amber smiled, despite the ribbing. “Yeah, Gretel, I just offered you some crumbs.”

  Quickly, the laughter drained from Keira’s face, and she got completely serious. “I can’t stand to see you blame yourself for everything that happened. I just want you to be okay.”

  “Thanks,” Amber said, feeling the threat of tears well in her eyes. “The only shit thing about what happened last night is that Franco gave Tank Rowdy’s name. I just can’t believe he’d betray me like that, ya know? I mean, don’t get me wrong; I am sure it’s been killing my father to know that Tank’s been with me. And I wasn’t playing nice in our fight the night Franco saw that picture. I flat-out told him that I was having sex with Tank. But I just thought he’d pick me.”

  “You don’t know that he didn’t.”

  “I absolutely do know. He asked Tank to research Rowdy. Seems pretty clear to me.”

  “But you don’t know why he did that. Give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  Amber shrugged her shoulders, not giving on the issue but not engaging in a battle about it. “So, I need a favor.”

  “Okay.”

  “Well, two favors. First, can I work for you the rest of the day?”

  Keira eyed her curiously.

  “Look, last night was pretty emotionally draining. And I don’t want to have any time to wallow in it all.”