“Can I think about it?” Wade scratches the top of his head like the act of thinking is causing him physical discomfort. He really is big and dumb.
“No, this deal has an expiration date. Plus, I can’t take the chance that you’ll go run off and tell our friend Brandon that we’re on to him. I need you to tell me right fucking now, and then we’re going to the police station.” My eyes stay trained on him, the intensity causing him to squirm in his seat.
With a loud sigh, he hangs his head low. “Fine, I’ll do it. Maybe it’ll help right this wrong.”
“Not fucking likely.” Standing up, I gesture to the door. “Let’s go,” I sneer at him.
***
“Ah, great you made it,” Mr. Henderson says as he slaps me on the back. “Is this the bozo that ran into your leg?”
“Unfortunately. Is the detective ready for his statement?” I question, anxious to get this over with. I can’t wait to nail that fucker to the wall. Watching him get handcuffed and brought in is going to be the sweetest sight I’ve seen in a while.
My lawyer talks to a few people and soon we’re seated in a conference room and waiting for the detective to take down Wade’s statement. My leg is bouncing a mile a minute waiting for this to begin. Finally, a short, bald man walks in with a clipboard and a cup of coffee.
“Mr. Henderson, Mr. Stone,” he says, shaking our hands, “I’m Detective Smith and I’ll be conducting the interview of Mr. Wade Turner today. Let’s have a seat and we can begin.” As soon as everyone is situated, it starts.
Detective Smith starts with the basics; name, address, occupation, things like that. Then he gets into the details of the plot and how it all worked out. It’s pretty interesting to hear how a plan was concocted to ruin your career. It’s a little surreal and sometimes felt like he was talking about another person. Brandon called Wade about two weeks before that practice game. I knew they couldn’t have planned it for long because I wasn’t cleared to play until close to it. Brandon emphasized which side needed to be hit and told him to make sure he went low with the tackle. The detective asked him if he was compensated in any way for doing this. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to know the answer. What is the going rate for causing an injury? Making a person go through surgery? Ending a career?
“Brandon paid me fifty thousand dollars,” he informs us.
Jumping up out of my seat, I move around to the end of the table and get in his face. “FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS?! THAT’S IT?! Are you fucking kidding me?!” I scream at him. I’m in such a state of blind rage and disbelief. That’s all it took? Fifty thousand dollars? I made that in two fucking days.
Wade leans back, trying to put distance between us. “Sorry, it was just easy money.”
I. Fucking. Lose. It.
My fist flies through the air and connects with his jaw. I hear a pop, but I don’t know if it’s from his jaw or my fist, but I couldn’t give two shits because I hit him again. His chair topples over and I fall on top of him, landing more punches. I’m vaguely aware of someone trying to pull me off, but I fight their effort. By the time I’m pried off of him by the detective and two other officers that had to be called in for help, my hands are a bloody mess and it’s still not good enough. The urge to keep pounding into his flesh is so strong that my body is shaking with the restraint I’m trying to use, when really all I want to do is get these cops off of me so I can finish what I started.
“Get him out of here!” the detective yells.
The officers all but drag my ass out of that room as my eyes remain locked on Wade’s beaten and bloodied face. He’s still conscious, and for that I am sorry. Easy money. Fuck that guy. I’m put into another room with two chairs and a table.
“Wait here for your lawyer.”
I’m too wound up to take a seat, so I pace back and forth as I continue to breath hard. A few minutes later, the door opens and in walks my lawyer.
“What the fuck was that, Landon? Do you want assault and battery charges filed against you?”
“Did you hear what he said? Easy money, huh? Well, I just made him work for it.”
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “This could be bad for you. What if he decides not to testify now because you thought his face looked like a punching bag?”
“The police have his statement. Make them testify. I don’t give a shit.”
“Sit down.” He points to the chair across from him. I reluctantly take a seat, making my knee bounce again as a way to channel this built-up energy. “I’m going to try to smooth things over and see if they’ll let you off with something small. I can’t make promises that Wade won’t press charges, though. Seriously, use that damn head of yours next time. In the meantime, hang tight here until I know something.” He gets up, grabs his briefcase, and walks out of the room, leaving me with my thoughts and anger.
Putting my elbows on the table, I rest my head in my hands and scrub my face. After a few minutes, I’ve had time to calm down and really regret what I just did. What if I just fucked up my only chance for justice? Sometime later, Mr. Henderson walks back in.
“You are one lucky son of a bitch. The detective is playing dumb. He says he didn’t really see who started it, but with Wade’s history of attacking you, he has reason to believe that you felt threatened and needed to defend yourself. Since the other cops weren’t in there, it’s his word against Wade’s, and that little story he just told about Brandon isn’t making him look that credible.”
Relief washes over me. “What made the detective say that? Not that I want to question it, I’m just curious.”
“I pulled him out into the hallway and I guess he was a fan of yours; since you’ve left, the team has been sucking. He said he’d punch Wade himself if he wouldn’t lose his badge over it.”
Thank God for hardcore football fans.
I’m not allowed back into the room while they finish questioning him, but Mr. Henderson assures me it’ll all be taken care of. Later that day, the detective has a warrant out for Brandon Smith’s arrest. This feeling is bitter sweet. I’ve come to terms with my injury and the fact that it was keeping me from playing ever again. I compartmentalized it as a freak accident, something that couldn’t be prevented. When I found out it was deliberate, it brought all those old feelings back to the forefront and intensified them. I was angrier and more bitter than before. Now that there’s going to be some sort of punishment for what was done to me, I feel more at peace. I’m finally able to lay this part of my life down and walk away. There won’t be any lingering doubts, regrets, or what-ifs. Just the future and what it holds with the person I want to share it with the most.
Autumn.
After throwing the chicken in the oven for dinner, I start wiping down the counters to try to clean up a little before Landon gets here. Glancing at the clock on the oven, I realize he should’ve been here already. The old me would’ve immediately jumped to conclusions about why he’s not here, but I’ve moved past all that. And I have Landon to thank for it. In the last month and a half since we’ve reconnected, he’s done so much to make me feel secure in our relationship. I thought I had that when we first got together, but I quickly realized that I didn’t. Every little thing that came up made me doubt him and his commitment to me. Those doubts and fears are gone, for the most part. Landon has done so much with not only with words, but also with his actions to prove that he’s beside me and wants to be with me. Until he gives me a reason to question him, I won’t.
The front door bursts open and Landon charges in, looking around frantically. All the commotion scares the shit out of me. “Jesus, Landon! I don’t mind you coming in without knocking, but do you have to tear my door off the hinges? You about gave me a heart attack.” Clutching my chest, I try to calm my heart that is beating a hundred times faster now. Without saying a word, he strides up to me, grabs my face with both hands, and plants a kiss on me. It’s a commanding kiss and is making me weak in the knees. Right when I think I’m about to see s
tars, he pulls away. “Wow. I take back what I said if that’s the greeting I get.”
Smiling at each other, Landon says, “I have amazing news.”
“What?”
“Let’s sit down and we’ll talk.” Pulling out a chair at the dining room table, he gestures for me to have a seat. He takes a seat beside me, angling his body toward me once I sit.
“What’s going on? You’re killing me here.” He’s beaming right now, so it can’t be bad news. But the anticipation is driving me crazy because I know it’s something big.
“Valerie isn’t taking the alimony or the house.” His smile stretches from ear-to-ear and the worry lines that marred his perfect face are no longer present. I didn’t notice before, but the stress of the divorce was aging him. Now, with his face fully relaxed, he looks so much happier and younger. More free.
“That’s awesome news! Why?”
“I guess that crazy attorney of mine knew what he was talking about. She didn’t like the bad press and is dropping everything.” My shoulders slump with relief. I was so worried she was going to use that against him somehow and create more problems. Looking down at our joined hands, the smile I was just wearing slips right off my face.
“What the hell happened to your hands?” His knuckles are puffy and a shade of purple, a clear indication that they’re bruised. Looking closer, I see what seems to be dried up blood on them. The sight of blood instantly repulses me and I drop his hands. “Are you hurt?”
“Relax, it’s not my blood.”
“Oh my God, what did you do then?” My eyes shoot up to his, eager to know what’s going on.
“That’s the other thing I wanted to tell you,” his words come out sheepishly. He tells me all about Wade and the police station. When he gets to the part where he beats him up, I can’t keep from wincing. Even though Landon is on cloud nine right now, his eyes flash with anger when he repeats what Wade had said. To be honest, I probably would’ve punched him too. Asshole.
“So you’re not going to be in trouble for beating him up?” The last thing he needs to deal with is criminal charges.
“Nope. The detective likes me. You know, I have that effect on people.” Winking at me, he grins before I lightly smack him on his arm. He’s insufferable. Rubbing the spot I just hit, he says, “Anyway, that’s why I was a little late getting here. I had to go to that restaurant and get Wade to give a statement.”
Touched that he feels the need to explain why he’s late, even though it’s not necessary, I lean in and give him a kiss. “Don’t worry about it. This was important and you needed to be there. I knew you’d be here eventually anyway, so don’t stress it.” Standing up from my chair, I walk over to the freezer. “Let me get you some ice for your hands,” I shout out so he can hear me as I walk away.
While I’m collecting ice, I feel warm hands move up under my shirt and circle my stomach. “My hands are fine. How about we celebrate?” His breath feathers down my neck as he whispers in my ear. Having forgotten all about the ice, I let the door close shut.
Dropping my head back on his shoulder, I give him easier access to my neck and he takes full advantage. “Mmmm, celebrate how?” I moan out as he nips my neck.
“Maybe do a little of this.” Trailing his hand up my stomach, he stops when he gets to my breast and pinches my nipple over my bra. The slight pain sends a rush through my body, making my panties wet. “Or how about this?” His other hand moves down slowly until he’s under my pants and panties and cupping my center. A growl vibrates in my ear. “I knew you’d be wet for me, sweetheart.” Thrusting his hips into my ass, I feel his erection pressed against me. Knowing he’s as turned on as I am makes me want to rip off his clothes.
Removing his hands from my breast and center, he grabs my hips roughly and spins me around so I’m facing him. “Pants off. Now.” Without hesitation, we keep eye contact as I unbutton and slide my pants down my hips to my ankles. I step out and kick them to the side. “Underwear, too,” he instructs. In seconds, I have those removed too. His eyes travel hungrily down my body. Biting my lip in anticipation, I wait for what he’s going to do next.
Moving closer to me until my exposed sex is pressed against his jean-clad erection, he leans into my ear and says, “Hold on tight, love.” I hear the sound of his zipper coming down before wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands go to my ass and lift me up, pressing my back against the fridge. I lock my ankles together behind his back right as I feel his rock hard erection press against my flesh. The contact and knowing the pleasure that’s coming sends me into a frenzy, and suddenly I have to have him now.
“Hurry, Landon,” I say breathlessly.
“Shhh, patience.” He licks and sucks the sensitive skin on my neck while palming my breast. Trying to encourage him to move faster, I grind my hips into him. The reaction I get is exactly what I was going for. With a growl, he says, “Fuck, Autumn. You’re too sexy for your own good.”
Looking at him through my eyelashes, I grind on him again. “Please.” I say the words in the most innocent way possible, and it breaks all his self restraint. With one smooth thrust, he glides into me with ease from my arousal. My head falls back against the fridge as I savor the feeling of his thick, hard length moving within my walls.
“Yes, harder.”
Releasing a hiss between his teeth, he increases his pace and slams into me. The hard, quick movements cause everything in the refrigerator to rattle and fall, but we could care less as we continue. Moving his hand to my clit, he starts stroking it in tight circles, bringing on my release much faster.
“Oh God, Landon. I’m so close.” I’m panting, eagerly chasing my orgasm.
“That’s right, baby. Your pussy feels so good. I can feel it gripping me.” Increasing the pressure on my clit, I squeeze my eyes shut and explode. It’s so intense, it feels like an out of body experience and I’m riding the high for I don’t know how long.
Once I open my eyes again, I’m met with a cocky grin. “You alright?” I simply nod, much too exhausted to do anything else, including stringing words together. “Good, because I haven’t had my fill of you quite yet.” Without setting me down, he turns and carries me to the bedroom where he slows things down and makes love to me.
Life is perfect for me right now—well, almost perfect. There’s still one problem that’s not fixed, but I’m on my way to change that now. So much has happened these last six months since Wade confessed, but all of it has been for the better.
I’m divorced. Thank fucking God. It happened the same week my lawyer told me Valerie wouldn’t fight me for everything. As I was signing my name on that final page, a huge burden was lifted from my shoulders. She’s not my responsibility anymore and that’s a very liberating thing. She kept true to her word and put the house on the market. We sold it a few weeks after the divorce was settled.
There was a time I considered myself a failure for not being able to save my marriage, but not anymore. I’ve come to terms with the fact that Valerie isn’t the woman I thought I fell in love with. If it weren’t for her lies and deceit, I never would have married her in the first place. I haven’t talked to her since mediation, but a part of me wonders if she’s okay. She was a major pain in my ass and I couldn’t wait to be rid of her, but I hope she’s figured out what’s important and how to make herself truly happy.
You want to know who’s not happy? That would be my friend, Brandon Smith. His punk ass just got sentenced to jail time for the crimes committed against me. It won’t change the fact that I have a bum knee, but it’s gratifying watching Lady Justice bring down the hammer. Wade was granted immunity in return for his testimony like promised, but the League decided to take matters into their own hands by conducting their own investigation. Based on their findings, he was fined a ridiculous sum of money and banned from playing ever again. Same for Brandon too. It’s the harshest penalties ever doled out to players, but I’m glad to see the commissioner is taking a stance against poor behavior and se
tting an example to guys in the future.
I fucking love karma. It’s the greatest form of revenge because it’s self inflicted. The cosmos line up and say, “Hey, you, you’re being a dickhead. Here’s your punishment.” I don’t take joy in other’s misery, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t doing back flips when Brandon was convicted and sentenced.
Fucker.
Business is going good. I finally got my home renovations business started and we’ve successfully flipped four houses in three and a half months. It’s a little brutal at times and the deadlines are tight, but Elliot has really done a good job putting together an awesome crew that gets shit done. For me, this job is also rewarding in a way football never was. I love seeing something go from run down and dilapidated to modern and new.
As soon as the ink was dry on my divorce papers, I went house hunting. The whole living with my parents thing was getting old. I found an awesome home nearby. It’s nowhere near the monstrosity I was living in with Valerie, and I love it. Once I had all my stuff moved in and furniture picked out, the house still felt empty. I knew exactly what was missing.
Autumn.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shitting myself when I brought it up to her. I was afraid she’d tell me that it was too fast since I just got divorced. The stunned expression on her face was priceless, but she snapped out of it quickly and agreed. We kept a few pieces of her furniture, but donated most of it. Once all of her little knick-knacks were in place and her clothes were hung in the closet, it finally felt like a home. We’ve been living together now for the last four months. She’s the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing I kiss before I go to sleep. And I fucking love it.
Tackled by Love Page 21
