“Michelle, just call Harry,” he said. “He’ll wire the money. Then he'll come and pick me up.”
“Fuck that,” she spat back at him over the phone. “I’m coming.”
“You don’t have to-” he started.
“Look,” she said cutting him off instantly. “You called me. Not Harry. I’ll be there in half an hour and I don’t want to hear another word.”
She ended the call before he could put in a protest or even say goodbye. She did call his agent to ask for the bond money. She couldn’t spare two thousand dollars, after all.
When he assured her that the money had been wired to the jail, she drove herself to the police station. She knew she didn’t owe him that. She didn’t owe him anything really.
She shouldn’t want to see him again. Not after this. Not after he’d broken the one and only promise she had asked him for. But, she had to. She couldn’t leave him without a word. He still meant too much to her.
None the less, a wave of fury came over her when the police escorted him out of the holding cell and into her custody.
“Michelle, I’m-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said grabbing his arm. She all but dragged him to her car and shoved him into the passenger seat.
They drove in silence for what seemed like hours even though the drive between the station and Chris’s mansion was only a matter of minutes.
The tears in her eyes began to cloud Michelle’s vision and she wiped them away furiously. She tried her best not to think about the man sitting beside her. She tried not to think that this had to be the last time she would ever see him.
She pulled up in front of his driveway and turned off the car.
“Get out,” she said. She tried to make her voice sound hard and cold. She heard it crack as a single traitorous tear fell down her cheek.
“Michelle, I’m-”
“No, Chris,” she said, turning to him at last. “It doesn’t matter how sorry you are. I told you this was a deal breaker for me. I won’t be the girlfriend who sits up all night wondering if you’re going to come home drunk. Wondering if you’re going to get picked up by the police.”
“It won’t happen again,” he said desperately. “I swear!”
“Like you swore to me that you wouldn’t get drunk again?” she asked.
Chris looked away from her and bit his lip. He looked as though he had something that he wanted to say to her but didn’t know how. She stared at him with as hard a glare as she could muster until he finally spoke.
“I’m off the team,” he said quietly. “They brought in a new quarterback for training camp.”
Her heart fell a bit at the news and she felt her glare soften. Of course, they knew that this was a possibility. Chris had been waiting to hear for weeks. Why hadn’t he told her?
“Harry says he’s trying to find a new team for me but, I don’t think anyone will take me,” he told her. “I might be done with the NFL.”
She turned away from him and looked out her window. She could see the lights shining through a thick haze of fog. The chill in the air had suddenly turned June into winter. The car seemed to provide no shelter from the cold.
“When did you find out?” she asked quietly.
“This morning,” he said. “Harry texted.”
Then those were the texts he’d gotten. She’d had a feeling there was more to them than he was telling her. But she never could have imagined that he would lie to her about something this big.
“So,” she said softly, “you think that’s it? For the NFL, I mean?”
“Maybe,” he answered.
“That could be a good thing,” she said. She saw him turn quickly to her with a shocked expression. It was as though she had slapped him.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice rising defensively.
“I mean,” she began slowly, “you obviously need help. And this lifestyle with the money, the cars, the clubs . . . it’s not good for you.”
“I can handle it,” he said. She couldn’t help but think that he sounded like a petulant child.
“So, this is handling it?” she asked him fiercely.
“Jesus, Michelle!” he exclaimed. “It was one time in two months!”
“Chris!” she said her voice raising back at him. “When you got this news you didn’t talk to me about it. You didn’t scream or yell or cry. The first thing you did was go to a bar.”
His face colored and he looked away from her again. Clearly he had no argument for that.
“You need help,” she said. “And, until you decide to get some . . . we can’t be together.”
“Michelle-,” he started. But, she reached over and opened his door before he could finish.
“Goodbye, Chris,” she said sadly.
She didn’t look at him when he got out the car. She knew if she did, she would change her mind. That she would call him back and beg him to stay.
She couldn’t do that. Not this time.
So, as soon as she heard the passenger door slam behind him, she started the car and began to drive away.
The fog was still thick when she looked out the passenger window. Even so, she could see Chris standing just in front of his front gate, watching her drive away.
*****
Chris sat at his kitchen table, holding his phone as he listened to SportsCenter play in the background.
He didn’t know why he still had it on. There was only one thing the talking heads were going to discuss. It was the same thing they’d been discussing for the past two days.
The Chris Watson press conference.
They announced that they would be showing the relevant bit again “for those who haven’t seen it yet”. Even though he’d seen it a million times already, Chris turned to the large screen and saw himself.
He remembered what it had been like, sitting at that table for the last time. The cornucopia of microphones pressed close to his face as he told them what they never thought they would hear.
“Thank you all for being here today,” he watched himself say on the television screen. “These past two years with the 49ers have been really eye opening for me. Especially these last few months. In that time, I’ve realized that I have a drinking problem. After talking with my team manager, my agent and to those closest to me, I’ve decided to take a year off from professional football so that I can get the treatment I so desperately need.”
Chris found that he could not help but smile when he recalled his agent’s face when he’d told him what he planned to do. Harry had looked at him as though he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.
Everyone had tried to talk him out of it, of course. Harry, his trainer, his teammates. They all said he had too much talent to waste. They said no team was going to wait an entire season for him. They said he could do rehab and play at the same time.
But, deep down, he knew this was what he had to do. Football didn’t mean anything if he couldn’t play it well. And when he was drunk half the time, he was far from his best.
He’d discovered, especially over the past week, that nothing else in his life meant anything if he couldn’t have Michelle.
He knew this might not bring her back. After all, she’d yet to respond to any of his multiple voicemails or texts. Even after the press conference had aired, she had not reached out.
And though he still kept his phone close at hand just in case, he discovered that it didn’t matter to him as much as he thought it would. He discovered that as much as he needed Michelle, he loved her more.
He loved her too much to try and force her to be with him when he didn’t deserve her. And this, getting help and going to meetings and getting treatments, was the first step to becoming worthy of her.
Even if it didn’t work, it was a step he had to take for himself.
When one last glance at his phone told him that Michelle had not called or texted within the last thirty seconds, he finally set it on the kitchen table and moved towards the refrigera
tor.
With the sports commentary still blaring in the background, he looked at his calendar and carefully wrote down a note on the date of his first AA meeting. It would take place at a small church on the next Wednesday.
Just as he had finished writing the note, he heard the doorbell ring and jumped.
His heart pounding, he rushed to the front door. He knew who he wanted to see standing there, but he told himself not to get his hopes up. It was, more likely, a journalist looking for an exclusive interview.
All the same, his hands shook when he pulled the door open. As soon as he did, his heart stopped.
On the other side of the door, wearing a bright blue top and a cautious smile, stood Michelle.
“Can I come in?” she asked tentatively.
“Yeah . . . yes,” he stuttered, moving out of the doorway so that she could make her way inside.
He showed her into the kitchen where they sat across from each other at the table.
He stared at her for a long while. He felt as though he was trying to memorize her face: the way her blue eyes sparkled, the way her nose curved downward, the way her jaw line moved smoothly to her chin. He had no idea when he would see her again. He had to take everything in.
“So,” she said finally, “I saw your press conference.”
“You did?” he asked stupidly.
“Kind of hard to miss it,” she answered with an eye roll.
“True enough,” he answered. A small smile came to his lips.
“Anyway,” she said looking down and beginning to fidget with her sleeve, “I was wondering. Did you really mean that? What you said about needing help?”
She looked up and her eyes met his. Those blue eyes looked hopeful but guarded. As though she was still not quite sure whether or not she could trust him.
“Yeah,” he said. “I meant that. You were right. I’ve got a problem. I need to sort it out before I do anything else.”
She nodded and moved her eyes back down to the table.
“Because, I was thinking,” she said. “If you’re really going to get sober you’re going to need a lot of support and . . . I was wondering if I could help.”
She looked up at him again. This time, her guard was down and he saw a question light her eyes. She was asking him to take her back.
Chris blinked twice to make sure he understood correctly. After everything he’d done, after the promise that he’d broken, she wanted his forgiveness.
Chris broke out into a smile when he realized there was no question in his mind at all.
“I’d like that,” he said. “I’d love it really.”
He reached across the table and took her hands. As soon as he did, she looked up at him. When she caught his grateful smile, she rewarded him with one of her own.
“I love you,” he said honestly. Her smile widened as she looked back at him.
“That’s lucky,” she said. “Because I love you too.”
As he leaned over to meet his lips with hers, Chris realized that having Michelle was far better than any football career.
THE END
Bonus Story 26/40
Stormy Love
Prologue
Lizzy walked into the jewelry boutique to cheer herself up. She was going to have to speak to her mother later and that was always a horrible situation. So she figured buying a nice bracelet would lift her spirits. The owner knew her from a month back, the last time she had to speak to her mother.
“Hello, Miss Storm, it is good of you to return. Is there anything I can help you with, a problem with your last purchase?” The salesman asked. She had to search her memory for his name. She smiled.
“I am immensely satisfied with my last purchase, Reginald, and I was wanting to purchase another. I feel the need for a second bracelet,” she told him. He was pleased she remembered his name. Reginald was an older man, stout with grey hair and a three-thousand-dollar suit.
“Well, Miss Storm we have some wonderful new pieces over here you may be interested in. I am happy you enjoy your first purchase with us,” Reginald pulled out a velvet tray of bracelets she was interested in looking at from the many under the glass counter. Then he looked up as another customer came through the door. Lizzy smiled.
“Go see what he needs, Reginald, I am going to be a minute looking at these,” she told him taking off her coat and setting it with her purse on the counter.
He smiled and moved off greeting the new customer. Lizzy looked over the beautiful pieces. She wanted to buy them all, but despite her trust fund she did not like indulging herself that much. One expensive bracelet would work for today. There was a loose silver chain bracelet with amethysts set all around the metal. She shook her head. She was hard on anything with a clasp. Then she looked at a solid, wide bracelet that would slide over her wrist, but was snug enough to not fall off. It was also silver set with two emeralds and a ruby between them. They were good sized stones too. Wearing it, she raised it up and held it in front of her, looking in the mirror. It fit and looked good. As good as her previous purchase that was on her other wrist. Lizzy had a thing for emeralds and rubies so she decided that she would get that one. It matched her dark red hair and bright green eyes.
She saw in the mirror that Reginald was helping a tall man looking at watches. Actually, Reginald was explaining the watch and the man was looking at her. He saw her see him in the mirror and smiled slightly before returning his attention to Reginald. She realized she recognized him from somewhere, she just could not remember where. Boy, was he tall, though, easily six and a half feet, if not more. Making him over a foot taller than she was. Well-proportioned though, and he also had red hair. His clothes looked designer made. Hmm. Nice looking guy in a jewelry store. She wondered if it would be worth the effort to say hello. He glanced over and saw her checking him out and his smile widened. It was her turn to focus her attention back to the jewelry, embarrassed.
Despite what her parents thought, she was not a slut. She did occasional like to have a good time and human contact was important, she believed. She heard the bell on the door ring and as she looked up a voice called out.
“All right everyone, stay where you are!” She saw four men file in wearing ski masks and dark clothes. Her first thought was, how cliché. Then she jumped when she saw they all had big guns. Lizzy put her hands up quietly as did the tall man. Reginald came around from behind the counter.
“What do you think you are doing? You just can’t walk in here and expect—” he was interrupted as one of the gunmen pistol-whipped him and he went down. Lizzy cried out and moved towards Reginald. She could see blood where he slumped on the floor next to the tall man who was bending to the fallen store owner.
“Hold it lady. Forget about him, worry about yourself,” The biggest gunmen said to her with a Midwest accent. She kept moving.
“He is injured and needs help,” she told him softly. The big man grabbed her arm and swung at her, she sidestepped with old practice at avoiding someone swinging at her face, so his punch landed on her shoulder. She gasped and staggered. The guy was strong! Using his grip on her arm he spun her around. She heard someone shout not to hurt her as she flew into the jewelry case she had been looking at moments before. Lizzy had brought her arm up as she was thrown and as she was slammed over the case her forearm shattered the glass and she cried out, in pain this time. He jerked her up by the hair and as she was spun around she saw the tall man with a gun to his temple frozen in a half crouch next to Reginald. She caught his eyes and she could see the regret that he couldn’t do anything for her. There was a struggle showing clearly on his face. He was on the edge of doing something stupid.
“You need a lesson in how to keep to your place!” The big gunman shouted in her face and then punched her in the stomach. She bent over gasping and gagging then her leg was kicked out from under her. She rolled into a ball with her back against the counter in case he was going to start kicking her more, cradling her slashed right arm. She received a kick
in the leg and held back her cry of pain, waiting for the next one.
“Come on man, time for us to go before the cops come!” She felt another kick in the leg and held back a scream of pain, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. She did not want to give him the satisfaction.
“The authorities are on their way. I triggered the alarm when you walked in,” she heard Reginald’s voice. He sounded weak. Lizzy slowly uncurled painfully and saw the three of the four men gathering up last handfuls of jewelry before heading out the door. The fourth man waited until they were at the door before he removed his gun from the back of the tall man’s neck. She heard him say, “Sorry man,” as he backed away and then went out the door. Lizzy straitened herself up against the counter and tried to slowly straiten the leg he had kicked. He had connected with the side of her knee and she gasped as she straightened it out. That was going to hurt even more in the morning.,
*****
“Look mom, you know I am recording this for posterity don’t you?” Lizzy asked her mother over the phone, rubbing her temple. She looked around her condo. Police report on the table, her arm wrapped and her leg in a brace. Her wounds were throbbing, but after the initial painkillers the doctors had given her she refused anymore. She did not trust pills.
“I don’t care Elizabeth Ann Storm you have no right to do this to us,” her mother told her harshly.
“This isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about…”
“I don’t care!” She interrupted Lizzy. “You cannot treat us this way, it is our money and you just can’t do this!”
“According to the contract Dad made us all sign, I can. As long as I am currently enrolled in school, and working towards my degree it is my money. I am enrolled and almost done with my degree. I will be happily graduating from NYU next year and I will never have to deal with you people again!” Lizzy finished and then internally cursed herself. She had sworn she would not get herself sucked into this conversation again.
“After everything we have done for you!” Her mom continued. That did it.
The Crime of Protection Page 82
