“Sure,” he admitted. “However, she’s a selfish ass that slept with me after I did what I did for her. Then went back to George.”
“So the only reason you ‘did what you did’ was because you wanted her to be with you?” Jesse asked sincerely.
“No,” Patrick answered. “Honestly,” he couldn’t believe he was about to tell Jesse this, “I can’t imagine living in a world without her in it.”
This was the truth. After she almost died, he felt like he was going to die and he knew for sure he couldn’t stand by and let Jamie kill her.
“Did you grow a pussy?”
Patrick laughed. “I think I might’ve. Why? Do you want to fuck me?”
“No, you sound like you’d be a whiny bitch,” Jesse laughed. “High maintenance…very emotional.”
Patrick laughed uncomfortably, but he felt like that. His emotions were always right under the surface. The wire strangling his heart, threatening to kill him, was always there, he didn’t know how to get rid of it.
“Fuck dude, your penis may be stuck up your ass.” Jesse was shaking with laughter now.
“I know, I know,” Patrick said in surrender. “I keep trying to get over it, but I just get pissed off.”
“You know that you’re probably just holding onto El because you don’t want to deal with Jamie,” Jesse commented softly.
Patrick didn’t know if that was 100% true, but he was doing a really good job of ignoring the fact he killed Jamie.
“So you and Jamie lived together?” Jesse asked.
“Jesse, I hear you. I just don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“I just feel so bad for his family. I mean, according to Stella, they knew he was alive, but now he’s dead, actually dead. Did anyone let them know? Did they know what his undercover name was? Do they know he’s dead now?” Jesse was rattling off questions, not waiting for Patrick to answer.
All of the questions were ones that Patrick had thought about, but hadn’t allowed himself to ponder. Jamie was gone and if he wasn’t, El would be. That’s all he could focus on.
“I don’t know.”
Jesse picked up his magazine again, realizing the conversation about Jamie and El was over. Patrick appreciated that about Jesse, he didn’t push too far.
“Do you wax?” Jesse asked, trying to quash the laughter still in his voice.
“What?”
“Your pussy, do you wax?” A grin broke out on Jesse’s face and his unnaturally white teeth made an appearance.
“Fuck you,” Patrick muttered and then laughed too.
As they deplaned onto the warm, sunbathed tarmac, two women approached with leis. The woman with long black hair and caramel skin lifted her arms to put the purple necklace of flowers over his head. Patrick dropped his head the same time as Jesse did to receive his white lei. They waited a few minutes for their suitcases and then Jesse led him out to the car he’d rented for the week.
The driver wore a short sleeve, button down shirt covered in bright blue and red flowers. He nodded and smiled at Jesse. “Mr. McIntyre.”
Jesse smiled back and slid into the seat; Patrick followed suit. They were staying in Honolulu for the first couple of days and then would be going to Maui after for a few more days to relax. Patrick didn’t care what they did; he was just along for the ride.
“We’re headed to the hotel first and we’ll get settled, then I have to do some press.” Jesse pulled out his iPad and started going through his email. “Samantha put my itinerary in here somewhere. I’ll forward it to you so you’ll know where I’ll be. Mostly I’ll be practicing, doing press, and then the game itself. There’ll be a few parties and I’ll take you with me, of course.”
His eyes lit up. “There it is.”
Patrick looked out the window. He’d had a different idea of Hawaii, it looked like any other city.
“Excuse me, sir,” Jesse said to the driver, “I’d like to stop on the way to the hotel and grab some Musubi.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s Musubi? Some sort of sushi?” Patrick asked.
“They have tuna poke here that will blow your mind, but Musubi is grilled spam on sushi rice. I want you to try it. It’s always my first stop.” Jesse was still looking at this iPad. “I don’t know why Samantha didn’t come. I asked her to. There’s too much for me to remember.”
“I can help,” Patrick offered. He didn’t want to be by himself with his thoughts for too long anyway.
Jesse smiled genuinely. “Really?”
“Sure. How hard could it be to make sure you know where you’re going?”
“Well, I don’t ever know, that’s for sure.” Jesse put his iPad down and cocked his head to the side. “Why don’t you try to forget everything while you’re here? I do that…just try to forget what haunts me. “
“Does it work?”
“Sometimes…” Jesse pushed his sunglasses up his nose as the driver pulled into what looked like a convenience store. “It helps to have as many Category Five drinks as you can stand.”
“What’s a Category Five?”
“The drink of the island. I guarantee you five of those and you’ll be wanting to take every girl home with you. Be careful though, a lot of the girls that hang out around the players are trying to snag one, if you know what I mean.”
Fuck. The things that Jesse had to worry about. Patrick could go to a bar and take someone home without thinking about their motives other than to get off. It made him appreciate his anonymity. Jesse didn’t have that and it really must suck. It also made him think of El; he guessed she had to worry about some of the same things. Maybe it’s part of the reason El and Jesse get along.
After they’d picked up several things that Jesse kept saying Patrick had to try, they were back on their way to the hotel. Patrick gazed out the window as Jesse ate a pile of Musubi and chatted about his schedule and the place his personal assistant booked for after the game, somewhere on the northeast side of Maui.
“Okay, we’re all set then.” Jesse’s raised voice made Patrick realize he was talking to him.
“How do you know Samantha?”
Jesse’s expression changed and his face held an emotion Patrick couldn’t quite put his finger on for a few seconds before he smiled. “She’s my best friend’s sister.”
“You surround yourself with people that knew you before you signed with the NFL,” Patrick observed, even Jesse’s housekeeper Sandra knew Jesse’s mother from South Carolina.
Jesse nodded. “Can’t be too careful.”
“What was different about her?” Patrick didn’t say El’s name, but they both knew who he meant.
“P, you know she’s different. I brought her back to my room for great sex, but got so much more. She’s smart and funny. She helped me prepare for the Congressional hearings without anything in return. It was like she was truly interested. She never asked me for anything and I gave her plenty of opportunities to. Then she got shot and I understood what her life had turned into. Having to be careful about everything you do is very different from a normal life. There are people coming out of the woodwork to be on TV and get their five minutes of fame and cameras fucking everywhere. It wears on you. We just became better and better friends.”
Patrick was silent, trying not to be mad at his friend because he’d had sex with the woman he loved…or used to love.
“Stop fucking thinking about her,” Jesse erupted. “There’ll be plenty of women here that will make you forget, at least for a little while.” The last few words died on his lips, but he smiled anyway.
Patrick nodded; he was going to try. He wouldn’t be miserable. This was one of the best experiences of his life; he was going to meet NFL players and go to the Pro Bowl. He was in fucking Hawaii.
He wouldn’t think of her again on this trip.
He rolled over and tried not to throw up. He’d drunk so much whiskey last night he didn’t even remember getting back to the room that Jesse had gotten for
him. That was on top of the five Category Fives he and Jesse had consumed after Jesse’s press event. He felt like a wildebeest shit in his mouth sometime during the night. He opened his eyes and saw long blonde hair over the pillow next to him. He didn’t remember a blonde coming back with him. Patrick closed his eyes again, willing it all to be better—when he opened them, his head wouldn’t hurt and he wouldn’t vomit.
“Ummmm,” he heard coming from the other side of the bed. “Shit.”
Patrick hoped she wasn’t going to talk to him. Fuck. Flashes of the night before appeared in his mind. He recalled a black-haired native woman giving him a blow job in the bathroom at the party that he and Jesse had attended. He opened one eye and took in the woman next to him. She was blonde and really tan, so definitely a different woman.
“Hey, baby,” she crooned as she ran fake red nails over his chest.
Oh, hell. He was going to barf. Rolling off the bed, he fell on the floor, got up, and ran his naked ass to the bathroom, slamming the door. He threw up four times, then looked in the trash and saw condoms. At least he’d used protection. He turned on the shower and stepped in, letting the hot water beat down on his body. The door opened. Fuck, no.
“Baby, can I get in with you?” the busty blonde asked.
Patrick leaned his head against the tile. “I’m really not feeling well.”
“I can make you feel better,” she said in a breathy tone that he imagined she thought was sexy. It wasn’t.
“I’m sorry…” He didn’t even know her name. “Could you just go?”
She was naked, standing right outside the shower, and glared at him, incredulous. He could tell she wasn’t used to getting turned down, but she was nothing he was attracted to. He knew why he picked her though, she was dumb, blonde, and tan, everything opposite of El. He would stick his dick in random females until he rid himself of the heaven he felt when he’d been inside her. He’d do whatever he needed to do to get through this bitch shit he was going through. Hell, he’d rather grieve over killing his friend than continue to mourn a woman who’d been such a big part of his life, only to find out he wasn’t a part of hers.
“Fucking asshole,” he heard Blondie growl as she was leaving the bathroom.
Billy’s words rang through his head as he let the scalding water run down his back. “You’re holding her hand because you want to; she’s holding yours because she needs to.”
Patrick would never let himself be in that situation again. El had been calling him and leaving messages for months, but he refused to listen to any of them. He felt like if he listened, even to just one, he’d fall back into the abyss that was Stella Murphy. Her existence tightened the barbed wire around his heart. He needed someone with wire cutters to come along and rescue him, but it definitely wasn’t a blonde bimbo.
Chapter Twenty-Three
WHO ARE WE ANYMORE?
Patrick had just walked into the house when he saw El’s face on Jesse’s monster-size TV. Her black hair was sleek and her bangs were cut bluntly across her forehead. He didn’t like her hair like that, it didn’t look like her. When she’d first moved in with him, her bangs were long and swept across her forehead and eyes. He could always tell when she was stressed because she blew them out her eyes; they would simply return back to where they sat, sexy as hell.
He’d turned to walk down the hall to his room when he heard a reporter shout at her.
“Stella! How are you feeling?”
Patrick stopped in his tracks, his ears perking up.
“I’m fine,” Stella answered curtly.
“Stella! Stella...is the baby okay?”
Patrick felt like the walls were crashing in on him as he ran to the living room where the TV was on, but no one else was there to witness his freak out.
“You’re FUCKING pregnant!” he yelled at the TV version of El.
She unconsciously put a hand on her belly protectively. “The baby is fine. Thank you for asking.”
“How far along are you?” someone yelled from the group of reports.
If he didn’t know her, he wouldn’t have caught her eyes clouding over for a millisecond. “I know you guys want to know everything about everything, but some things are private. My baby is private.” She showed her fake smile and exited the area with the microphones.
Patrick slumped down onto the ottoman and put his hands on his head. She’s fucking pregnant. This was really the end. A kid changes everything. He shook his head in misery at the irony of his thoughts. They’d ended before they even had a chance. Standing up slowly, he walked back to his room and opened his iPad.
He forced himself to type in “Stella Murphy pregnant.” Patrick read through article after article until he found the one he needed, the one that told him how far along she was. He picked up his chair and threw it across the room.
It was his. He knew it.
Seething, Patrick yanked his phone out of his pocket and searched through it to find El’s number. Frustrated because he couldn’t find it, he threw the phone against the wall. The screen shattered immediately.
“Fuck!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. In the distance, he heard thundering footsteps getting closer to his room. Patrick hung his head as Jesse pushed the door open.
“What the fuck, dude?”
Ignoring Jesse’s question, Patrick stalked over to his closet and started packing a bag. He hadn’t even realized Jesse was home.
“What’s going on?”
About to blurt out his problem, Patrick gathered his wits about him. “Sorry, man. Just family stuff. I’ve got to head home for the weekend. I’ll clean this up when I get back.”
“You okay?”
“I...” Patrick looked at his roommate, someone he now considered a close friend. “I don’t know. I’ll tell you when I get back.” He’d probably tell Jesse everything, just not right now.
One of Patrick’s favorite things about Jesse was that he didn’t pry. “All right. We’ll talk later.” Jesse eyed the phone on the floor again and turned and walked out of Patrick’s room.
Patrick pulled his iPad back out and got a very expensive flight to DC. Fuck her! Fuck her! Fuck her!
He messaged Billy from his iPad.
Coming up for the night, can I crash at the house?
Billy replied immediately.
Of course.
Patrick hesitated before typing the next message, he inhaled slowly.
Did you know?
yes
How could you not tell me?
You need to talk to el
Rage tore through his body again, like he was hearing the news that El was pregnant again for the first time.
Calm P, talk to el
Fuck you. I’ll see you in a few hours
Patrick stewed in his fury until he landed in DC. His iPad told him it was 3:00 in the afternoon on a Saturday and he debated where to go to first. He took the Metro to Braddock Road and walked the long blocks to Billy’s house. He walked in without knocking, still feeling like it was his house too. Billy was watching an old baseball game on ESPN Classic. He stood up and they did a manly one arm embrace.
“You okay?” Billy asked, walking into the kitchen.
“No,” Patrick muttered.
“Well, I think if you would’ve taken one of El’s seven million phone calls you would have known this a long time ago. I know she didn’t want you to find out this way.”
Patrick sat with his elbows on his knees, his head hung down so low it almost touched his knees.
Billy patted his back and handed him a beer. “Chug-a-lug, Pooh Bear. You’re about to have a very unpleasant conversation.”
“Is it mine?” Patrick asked before turning his beer up and guzzling over half of it easily.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Billy held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not even sticking my toe in this shit. This is for you two to handle.”
“Can I use your phone? I destroyed mine.”
“Effective use of rage?�
�� Billy asked raising an eyebrow.
“Annoying use of rage,” Patrick confirmed lifelessly.
Billy handed his phone over and then waited. Patrick didn’t move.
“Do it, pussy.”
Patrick relented at this jab and smiled as he pressed El’s face in Billy’s contacts.
“Yo, William, what’s up?”
Her voice made Patrick freeze; it was normal and casual when he felt like his life was ending. Billy punched his shoulder.
Patrick cleared his throat. “Um, actually, it’s Patrick.”
Silence.
“We, um, need to talk.”
“Yes, we do.” Her voice broke a little at the end and his heart constricted. Fuck her. She didn’t get to do that to him.
“Do you want to come to Billy’s or you want me to come over to your house?”
She exhaled into the phone. “I’ll come there,” she answered, her voice soft and gauzy.
“Patrick?”
He didn’t answer her.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
He heard George’s voice in the background and fought the urge to throw Billy’s phone. He disconnected the call. “This will be bad,” he said to himself.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re right.” Billy sipped his beer and peered over at Patrick. “You’ve been gone for over two months.”
“Almost three months.”
“You’re moving forward.”
“To get pulled back in.”
The friends easily fell right back into their familiar banter with one another. Even though he wasn’t happy about why he was in DC, it still felt like home.
“What if its mine?” Patrick asked, not looking at Billy.
Billy got up and took Patrick’s empty beer, walking into the kitchen to get them two more.
“Billy...”
“No, Patrick. I’m not discussing shit with you until you talk to El. You guys needed to hash this out months ago, but instead you stuck your dick in anything that could walk and then left.” Billy walked back to the den and sat another round of beers on the table. “I’m not blaming you; I would’ve done the same thing. I’m just saying you guys need to talk.”
Heart in Wire Page 19
