by Andrew Grey
“Let’s watch a movie or something,” Chippy suggested and grabbed the remote, turning on the television and flipping through channels. He stopped at Meet Me in St. Louis and sighed. “Isn’t Judy just divine when she sings?” It was “The Trolley Song” and it was amazing. Obie settled back to watch, but David grabbed the remote and continued on.
“Go back,” Chippy said, taking the remote from David as the commercial ended and the news came on.
“A fire was reported at the home of Philadelphia Rockets star Bri Early this afternoon….” Chippy flipped back to the movie, and Obie gasped, snatching the remote and turning the channel to the previous program. “The fire was confined to the garage. No estimate of damage has been released.” Then they went on to another story.
Obie jumped to his feet, spilling his drink down the front of him. He swore and set the glass aside, picking his phone up off the table and hurrying from the room toward the stairs. He brought up Uber, arranged for a pickup, and was already pulling off his wet clothes by the time he reached his room.
“Where did you go? Did you call him?” David called up the stairs. Obie already had fresh pants and a shirt on, and the call to Bri was ringing as he hurried down the stairs, stopping to put on his shoes.
“There’s no answer. I have an Uber coming. You guys stay if you want. I’m going over there.” He made sure he had wallet and keys and was already heading to the door as the song in the movie came to an end. “I’ll call as soon as I know something.” The car arrived, and Obie single-mindedly pulled the door closed just as David and Chippy grinned at each other. He didn’t have a chance to wonder what that meant as he jumped in the car and asked the driver to get to Bri’s house as quickly as possible.
Chapter 7
BRI STOOD in the backyard, the acrid smell of smoke burning his nostrils. Even the house stank, so he had windows open and was going to have to call one of those restoration companies to take care of the mess. “There’s someone outside saying he’s a friend of yours,” one of the firefighters said. They had been good enough to help him stay out of sight with the throngs of television news crews around.
Bri hobbled out toward the front of the house. He waved as Obie saw him and hurried over. “What happened? Where are your crutches?”
“In my car, which was in the garage. Apparently it was damaged in the fire, and I can’t get in there to get them.” Shit, he felt like a fool and was angry as hell. He should have locked the garage door just as tightly as he closed up the house.
“Do you want some help to go inside? Does it smell? If you want, I could call someone to see about getting fans and stuff.” Obie was speaking a mile a minute, and it seemed like he was just getting started. “I heard the news on TV and I rushed right over to make sure you were okay.” He paused to take a breath, and Bri thought he might get a chance to answer. No such luck. “Have you called your mom and dad? They are going to hear about this and be really worried.” He was already guiding Bri toward one of his lawn chairs.
Bri sat down and figured he’d give Obie a few minutes to wind down. “I’m fine,” he said finally. “I was about to call the folks when you appeared.” He smiled and calmed down further when Obie turned to him, his eyes filled with worry and concern. “Just relax. I’m okay. The fire wasn’t too bad and they were able to put it out right away. The fire department said they want to investigate and they’re going to need some time. Unfortunately, I’d had the house open to air it out, so it filled with smoke and….”
“Okay. Then you can come and stay with me for a few days. I have an extra room, and no one is going to know where you are unless you want them to.” He blinked those huge blue eyes, and Bri’s willpower caved almost instantly.
“Are you sure about this? What about all the things you said earlier?” Bri asked as his heart beat a little faster.
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m not going to let you stay in a smoky house, or a hotel where everyone would be gawking at you.” He stood, looking him over. “We’ll need to get you a new set of crutches first. I got here by Uber because I was with the guys, but I can get another one to take us back just as soon as you can leave.” He was already up and hurried inside the house, returning with a couple bottles of water. He handed one to Bri, who took it, half staring. “You need to drink and stay hydrated at times like these.” Obie patted his hand. “Was anything else damaged?” He seemed to be calming down. “I was so worried,” he added softly.
“I’m sorry.”
Obie shook his head. “What do you have to be sorry for? You didn’t do this.” He blew air out of his mouth. “Am I right in assuming that they think this was deliberate?”
“Yeah. Whoever is behind the messages apparently has sent another one.” His right hand shook, and he held it with his left to steady it, trying to be strong and cover up for how his world seemed to have turned on its side. “That goddamned crackpot. What did I ever do to him?” Bri had wracked his brain to try to figure out who could be behind this crap and came up empty.
“You were an athlete in school, right?” Obie asked with a sense of caution that wasn’t present a few minutes earlier when he’d fired off questions like a machine gun. “High school and college. That’s how you got to where you are, right?”
“Yeah,” Bri answered, drawing out the sounds. Obie looked at him out of the corner of his eye, as he seemed to find one of the boring, trimmed shrubs on the edge of the yard interesting. “What are you asking?”
Obie sighed. “Okay. You were a jock, and I have to ask because… well… did you do any jock things?” He looked at him without meeting his eyes, and Bri couldn’t help squirming. “You know, stupid shit that makes you cringe when you think of it?” He almost sounded like he wanted to make himself smaller too.
Bri closed his eyes. “Yeah. It was high school and we were big, stupid balls of testosterone with only half a brain to control it.” He turned away. “I did a lot of things I regret.” Bri swallowed hard. “I wish I could take some of those dumb things back. But I haven’t seen any of those people in years. They left high school and went on, just like I did.”
“Mr. Early,” a firefighter said, and Bri was never so relieved for an interruption. He was already sweating under his collar and soon his shirt was going to be wet through. “We have the fire completely doused and did a quick investigation. The fire marshal’s office will be here in an hour to officially investigate, but there’s no question this fire was deliberately set. We have notified the police and they are on their way.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’m sorry about all of this.” He was probably in his midtwenties and had the young man look of a puppy dog, eager as hell to please. “We’ll get secured what we can, but we suggest you contact your insurance company. They’ll send people over to help clean up once the investigation is complete.” He bit his lower lip.
“Thank you.” He could feel the energy draining out of him by the second, flowing away like a fast-moving river. “I’ll be here to meet the police when they arrive.”
The firefighter, whose badge read Howard, didn’t go anywhere. “Ummm, do you think I could get your autograph? It’s for my son.” Now, if this guy had a kid, he must still have been in diapers, but Bri agreed and signed a piece of paper for him. Then he sat back in the chair, sighing, and closed his eyes. Sometimes he really did think about chucking it all in and moving to Alaska. Not that he minded the fans and the celebrity, but sometimes it got in the way. “Thank you.”
“Howard!” one of the other men called sharply. “Leave Mr. Early alone and get back to cleaning up.” Howard snapped to and hurried away. Bri closed his eyes and tried to will away the jitters that refused to settle. Someone had set fire to his car and tried to burn his house down… with him in it. Suddenly, he was finding it hard to breathe. His eyes widened and it took a great effort to get air into his lungs.
“Just relax,” Obie told him softly. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe and you’re going to stay that way.” The de
termination in Obie’s eyes eased some of the tension gripping his chest. His hands shook and he placed them on his lap, gripping his legs to try to control them.
Moments later, he saw his mother pull up in front of the house. She raced over to him. “Honey, I just heard the news. I tried calling, but you didn’t answer, so I hurried over.” She paused, looking down at both of them. It took Bri’s now-sluggish senses a few seconds to realize that Obie’s hand was on top of his and that he was very close. “I see.”
Bri sighed. “Is this really a problem, Mom?” he asked, because he couldn’t believe that she was picking this moment to have an issue with something he had told her some time ago.
“No. It’s just something I need to get used to, I guess.” She didn’t come closer, and Obie pulled away and stood before bringing over a couple more chairs. His mom sat across from him. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine. My phone was dead. I was going to call you as soon as I charged it.” God, Bri was tired and wanted to take a nap. Maybe he already had, and this was just a bad dream. “I wasn’t hurt, but the house is filled with smoke. So I’m going to stay with Obie for a few days until it can be cleaned up and the mess in the garage taken care of. That is, once the police are done.” And who knew how long that was going to take.
“You should come home with your dad and me.” She glanced at Obie and then back to him.
“Dad doesn’t need the additional stress, and really, neither do you. I’ll be fine. Obie doesn’t live far away, and we can get back here easily enough.” The list of things he needed to do began growing in his mind, and he didn’t need to add arguing with his mother to that list.
To his surprise, she didn’t push it. “Okay.” She patted his hand. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing.” She sent another of those side glances at Obie. “But don’t you need to be careful? People will know… I know you and your father have talked about this, but are you ready for your… proclivities… to be common knowledge?” The way she said it made Bri feel dirty.
“Proclivities?” Obie asked and then giggled a little. “What is this, the fifties? Bri is the man he is, and that’s in a large part due to you and his dad. Let him make up his own mind about things.”
She leaned back. “I only meant that people will think differently about him when they find out.”
Bri’s eyes widened. He’d just realized something—his mother was a snob. “Are you worried what your friends will say? Not that any of that matters. I’m not going to come bounding out of the closet and make an announcement on Jerry Springer. But I’m not going to hide either. I’ve been hiding who I am for a long time and I can’t do it anymore.” Besides, he wasn’t very good at it, if the messages from his stalker were any indication. “I want to be able to live my life, period.”
Mom leaned forward. “Are you sure this is what you want? You have a few more years to play. Once you retire, you can come out and be an elder statesman of the game. But if you do it now, they might cut you from the team.” She patted his leg. “You need to think about the consequences.”
“Excuse me?” Obie jumped to his feet, hands on his hips, staring at Bri’s mother in absolute shock. “I know things aren’t perfect, but the organization isn’t going to fire Bri because he’s gay. Bri is a talented, great player and the team needs him.”
“It’s okay, Obie,” he soothed. “What she said is true and I know it. There are a lot of things that could happen. We talked about this before, but….” He sighed. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep hiding and I don’t want to. So I’m going to let the chips fall where they may.” Now that he’d made the decision, he felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders… and then he was sure he’d throw up.
“Don’t make any decisions now,” Obie cautioned, which was nearly shocking. Bri had expected him to be jumping up and down with joy. “You have enough to deal with at the moment.”
“I agree. Take your time—think things through and make sure you know what you want.” His mom stood, and Bri thought she was going to leave. “It looks like everything is under control here, and I have to check on your father. He has a doctor appointment in an hour.” She leaned down, kissing Bri on the forehead the way she had when he was a child. “You scared me half to death, but if you’re able to argue with me, I know you’re all right. Call me tomorrow to let me know if you need any help.” She left the yard, and Bri watched her go, wondering how she could give him emotional whiplash in a matter of minutes.
“Your mom cares,” Obie said softly. “And she’s worried about you. I could tell by those little lines around her eyes.” Obie was obviously the forgiving sort, even after getting a dose of his mother’s shortness. “It’s probably her way of covering up her nerves, the same way you hold your arm so it doesn’t shake.” He raised his eyebrows.
“I thought I was good at covering that kind of shit up. I’m a professional basketball player—I’m supposed to be able to handle extreme stress.” Sometimes it surprised him how understanding Obie was about so many things.
“On the court. This is life stress, and it’s coming at you from a whole different direction. No matter what anyone says, no one is going to be able to shrug off someone setting their house on fire.” Obie put his hand over his mouth. “Damn. I should know when to keep my big mouth shut.”
“It’s okay.” He liked Obie’s mouth, especially his lips and how they tasted.
“Have you seen inside yet?” Obie asked softly. Bri shook his head and once again imagined the charred mess inside the garage and the shriveled hunk of molten metal that was what was left of his car. Of course, his imagination might be running a little away with itself.
“No. I’m scared to.”
“It might not be that bad,” Obie told him. “The car is likely a write-off, and the inside of the garage is probably blackened but it should be fixable. And the car was insured, right? You’ll get a new one and we’ll have the mess cleaned up and….”
Once again, Bri thought he was going to puke. “This is my mess, and you need to stay away from it.” He suddenly remembered his last message. He didn’t want whoever was after him to hurt Obie. That sent a chill racing through him. “Maybe I should stay with my mom and dad.” At least if he did that, Obie would be safe and whoever was behind this would leave him alone.
“If that’s what you want,” Obie said quietly and turned away. “I understand. I was only trying to help.” Fuck, the aching hurt in his voice squeezed at Bri’s heart. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Obie, just keep him safe.
“What I want is for all of this to go away and my life to be the way it was. I want to play again and not have some psycho after me,” he snapped. “I want to feel safe in my own house, which I probably never will again, and I want to know that you’re safe and that….”
Obie slowly got to his feet, eyes as dark as storm clouds, lips pulled straight. “Was that stuff about going to your parents’ some romantic notion about keeping me safe?” He wagged his hips. “I am not some damsel in distress that needs a knight in shining armor.” Bri tried to keep a straight face but lost it.
“Damsel….” He reached for him, tugging Obie closer. “You are not any sort of damsel I have ever seen. Wrong parts.” He smiled, looking up at Obie. “I don’t want you hurt by all this.”
“And I don’t want you hurt by this. So we’re even, and you can stop being gallant or whatever other bullshit is going through your head.” He stepped back, and Bri’s arms slipped downward and away. “So why don’t you just say what you mean to say and let me make my own decisions.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “There. See, was that so hard?” His hands went back to his hips and he looked vaguely like Bri’s third grade teacher who used to scold him for taking Susie’s red crayon.
“Okay, okay. The last message hinted that something might happen to my friends. I didn’t want you to get hurt so I thought it would be best if I distanced myself from you. That way whoever was doing this wou
ldn’t have you in their sights. Okay, are you happy?” His snippy tone sounded immature, even to him.
“Yes. Thank you. And I appreciate that,” Obie said. Bri sighed with relief. “Not that I’m buying it or going to let it happen. But I understand. And on the way back to my house, we’ll stop to get you some new crutches. As soon as you can get in the house, we’ll pack you a bag. If the clothes smell a little funky, we can put them right in the washer for you.” Obie turned and began wandering back toward the garage. “I wonder how much longer they’re going to be.” He peered around the corner and then through the window at the back of the garage. “It looks like they’re cleaning up and getting ready to go. At least the hunky firemen are…. The police just arrived.”
“Great.” Bri groaned as police officers stormed the backyard and then strolled up to him to ask a few questions. Yes, the car was insured. No, he didn’t need money and wasn’t having financial troubles. Yes, he had been receiving threatening calls. No, he didn’t know who was behind them. Yes, he had been in the house when the fire had broken out, and no, he hadn’t been aware until he smelled smoke and called the fire department right away. Yes, he had been out for a period of time that afternoon, and yes, he could account for his whereabouts. By the time they were done and Bri had answered enough questions to convince them that he hadn’t set the fire himself, they seemed to get down to business. Meanwhile Obie’s mouth hung open and he looked about ready to blow his top.
“Do you want me to call a lawyer?” Obie asked, arms folded over his chest. “Or maybe I should call Tweedledee and Tweedledum’s supervisor, or even the mayor. Get some smart cops over here.” Damn, Obie was a real firecracker when he was angry, and judging by the sparks coming from his eyes, these two were about to burst into flames at any second.
“And you are…?” Tweedledum asked.
“A friend of his. I have plenty of connections, so snap your brains into gear and do your jobs.” He tapped his foot and glared at both of them. “I’m making a call anyway. This is ridiculous.” Obie stormed off, and Bri wondered exactly who he intended to call. Obie returned a few minutes later and handed one of the officers the phone. Within minutes, the cop had gone completely pale as he stammered into the phone.
