Rebound

by Andrew Grey

  Obie nodded. “Amen to that.”

  “I wish I had met someone like you back then,” Bri admitted.

  “Why? I doubt we would have been friends.” Obie was right, of course. Bri would have stayed away from him like the plague. “Fear sucks, and it robs us of a lot of things.”

  “What do you mean?” Not that he could argue with him.

  “What if the kid that Pat picked on was meant to be the best friend you ever had?” Obie asked. “What if he was gay and turned out to be your other half? The one you were destined for? That special person who understood you more than anyone else? But because you were afraid to approach him, you never found out?” Obie took a step closer. “It strips away possibilities because we don’t have the courage to kick it in the ass and tell it to bugger off. Not that I was the most courageous person. There was a guy I liked in high school and I never approached him either. I didn’t want to get rejected or my face bashed in.”

  Bri couldn’t help chuckling. “I think we were all in the same boat, if in a different way.” He shifted the crutches under his arm, trying to hold on to his freshly laundered clothes. He nearly dropped them, and Obie caught the small pile before it spilled over the floor.

  “I have them.” He straightened the clothes and followed as Bri hobbled into the living room. “I didn’t mean to have such a serious conversation. If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

  Bri sat down, and Obie handed him the clothes. “Maybe I needed that conversation. Someone hates me, and though I don’t know why, there has to be a reason.” He picked up his phone when it vibrated, but when he didn’t recognize the number, he declined the call. He half suspected it might be his stalker, but the thought of hearing that voice again made his stomach churn.

  “If there is, we’ll find it,” Obie told him. “I’m going to give you a few minutes to put on your shorts and then you can meet me in the therapy room.” The phone beeped to indicate that he had a voicemail. Bri didn’t even want to look and handed the unlocked phone to Obie.

  “It’s from your dad,” Obie said. Bri wondered about the strange number, then listened to the brief message and called his dad back.

  “What’s up? Did you get a new phone?”

  “Yes. I told your mother that we could have the same number, but she must have forgotten. The old one went on a diving expedition.” Meaning, his dad had dropped it in the toilet… again. “I wanted to see how you were. Your mother said you were okay, but I was still worried.”

  “I’m with Obie, and he’s looking after me. The police are going over my house pretty thoroughly now.” He smiled and relayed the story of the two cops.

  “I knew he had hidden depths,” his dad said about Obie. “Let him help you, and you call if there are any more messages. Did you give what you had to the police?”

  “Yes, and Obie mentioned it to his dad, so they’re taking it seriously.” He swallowed hard. “Obie thinks that the injury in the game was deliberate, and I’m starting to think so too. I don’t know why….” Obie tapped him on the shoulder, motioning to where he was going with his own phone, then left the room. “Obie seems to think it could be someone from school.”

  “Not that girl who was hurt?” his dad asked.

  “It could be her. She always blamed me, even though I wasn’t there. She’d said she heard the guys talking about it, saying I would have loved it. So in her mind, I came up with the idea. You know. But I keep going through my past. The guy on the team that keeps coming to mind is Donald, but I doubt he has the smarts to pull this off.”

  “You be careful and watch your back. Call if you need anything.” His dad ended the call, and Obie hurried into the room.

  “What is it?” Bri asked.

  “My dad is on his way over,” Obie announced. “So you might want to get dressed. He said he wants to talk to you and….” Obie bit his lower lip. “I asked him to come over so he could look into this personally. He also said he has some more information for you.” Obie was suddenly filled with energy, hurrying around to pick up and put things away, not that the house was messy by any means. Then he started fussing in the kitchen while Bri got dressed and hung the robe in the bathroom.

  Just as he got settled on the sofa, he heard a knock on the front door. Moments later, a large man strode inside. “Hey, Dad.” Obie met him and they exchanged a brief hug. “This is Bri Early. Bri, James Kenoble.” Obie hurried out and brought in a tray with drinks and some crackers and cheese, setting it on the table.

  Bri extended his hand, grateful that Obie’s dad didn’t stand on ceremony and sat right away. “What can I do for you, commissioner?” he asked.

  “It’s what I can do for you.” He reached for a cracker and took a small bite. Bri watched him and saw the similarity between Obie and his dad. He had graying red hair, though it wasn’t the bright color of Obie’s that he liked so much. But they did share the same intense eyes and warm smile. “I want to apologize for the officers this afternoon. It should’ve been fairly obvious what had happened, and they were overzealous. We’re making sure they get the training they need.” He nibbled on the cracker as Obie hovered nearby a little nervously.

  “Okay. But I’m assuming you didn’t come over here just to apologize. Besides, it was Obie who stood up to them. You should have seen him.” Bri laughed outright. “Those two nearly pissed themselves when he handed them the phone.” He took a deep breath and calmed himself. “So what did you find?”

  “Your car was laced with plenty of accelerant. If it hadn’t been compromised, the garage and probably the house would have gone up like a torch. As it was, the powder just fizzled. We believe that the perpetrator emptied the powder out of a number of bullets, but it had been stored somewhere damp so little happened.” He sat back and finished his cracker.

  “Do you want something to drink, Dad?” Obie asked even as he handed a glass to Bri, lightly touching his shoulder.

  “No, thanks. I’m fine.” He turned back to Bri. “We believe this is an amateur who probably saw something on television and got a bright idea.”

  “Have you got a line on who might have done this?” Bri asked.

  “We’re getting there and working additional evidence.” He was hedging; Bri could feel it. “We’re also working over what we can on the phone calls and messages. We’ve narrowed them to a burner phone and we’re tracing where it was sold to see if we can get a customer. I wish I had more news for you, but sometimes, these things take time.” He lifted his gaze to Obie. “Both of you need to be careful. I can assign an officer to stay here with you.” He pulled out his phone.

  “Dad, no. If I have police here, it’s going to make it hard for me to work with my clients.” He turned to Bri. “What do you think? It would be more protection.” He bit his lower lip the way he did when he was nervous.

  “Do you really have the manpower for that?” Bri asked. “Obie and I should be fine. Anyone would be stupid to try anything here. If you increase patrols in this area, that should be enough. We’ll promise to call right away if anything happens or if I get another message.” God, the last thing he wanted was for his life to be more disrupted than it already was. “How long before you think I can go home?”

  “We’d like a few more days to go over everything. Whoever did this didn’t know how to set a fire, but they were very good at covering their tracks.” He leaned closer. “At every crime scene, each person leaves traces of themselves, even if they don’t mean to. We have found a few clues, including where they broke in and got into your car. We’d like a little more time, if that’s all right?” Not that he needed to ask, but it was good that he did. To Bri, it showed the kind of person he was.

  “Of course. I want to catch this guy.” Up until now, Bri had been doing a pretty good job of covering the tornado of fear and worry that kept welling and receding in his gut. But now his right hand shook, and he held it with the other, though it made no difference. “I want to be able to fix up my home and live there again.
This is….”

  Obie put his arms around him from behind, his hands sliding over Bri’s shoulders and then resting on his chest. “It’s okay. You’re safe,” he whispered.

  “Am I?” Bri asked. “Really?” He turned to James. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be safe again—not in my own home, not on the basketball court. Hell, every time my phone rings, I worry that it’s this asshole calling to taunt me.” A dam seemed to burst inside him, pulling away the last of his control. Bri wanted to cry but he’d be damned if he was going to do that in front of the fucking police commissioner. He took a deep breath and did his best to regain some modicum of control.

  “We’re going to do our best. We have a police presence at your house and we will all night and into tomorrow. Have you called your insurance company?” James asked, and Bri nodded.

  “They’re waiting for you to finish the investigation,” he explained. “We have an appointment to meet tomorrow. I hoped that would be enough time, but….”

  “It will be fine,” James agreed and then turned to Obie. “Are you going to be all right?”

  “Yes, Dad. I’m fine.”

  The police commissioner’s eyes hardened. “And how long have you and Mr. Early been seeing each other?” The tone was harsher than Bri expected, and he was pleased he wasn’t on the receiving end of the question.

  “Dad,” Obie replied gently. “Bri is a….” He faltered and his breath turned to a sigh. “Look. Bri is a client. I’m helping him recover from an injury. I like him and I think he likes me. But nothing has happened between us. We’re just getting to know one another.” He swallowed and leaned forward so Bri could see him. “Bri’s feelings are private, as are mine, and….”

  That hawkish look shifted to him, and Bri’s leg quivered. “You’re not out and open about who you are?” It was almost a demand.

  “It’s not that easy. He’s—” Obie argued, but Bri nodded. This was his issue, not Obie’s. Bri shouldn’t let Obie take the heat for it.

  “I’m not out, no. I have a few years to play and….” Damn, now he couldn’t seem to put together a sentence that didn’t sound lame.

  “So you intend to hide and want Obie to hide along with you? Is that the idea?” Obie’s dad leaned closer, a slightly smug expression on his face, as though he had everything figured out.

  “Enough, Dad. Why do you think I didn’t tell you about this?” Obie straightened up. Clearly this had been what he was worried about and why he’d been nervously bustling around the house before his dad arrived. “I know you want to protect me, but you can’t always do that. Bri has the right to figure out who he is and come out at his own speed, when he feels the time is right.” Damn, his eyes held the same fire as his father’s. It was exciting, especially the way he fought for him. “He has friends who know and support him. It’s just the greater world who isn’t aware, and that’s fine for now.”

  “What about his parents?” James asked, with a little less vehemence.

  “My dad is really supportive. Mom has a harder time with it, but they do their best to understand. They’re proud of me.” Bri wasn’t sure what to say. Obie gripped his hand tightly, giving Bri the silent support he needed. “I never wanted to face who I was. I dated women for most of my life. I tried like hell to deny who I was attracted to for a long time. I kept my head down, studied, practiced until my feet bled. Being a basketball player was all I ever wanted, and I made it. I couldn’t throw it away.” His mouth went dry. “Can you imagine how much court time I’d have gotten if I had come out of the closet in college? Exactly zero. I know that. I wasn’t as worried about how everyone else would feel, but the other players, the coaches… the league… I’d be frozen out.” He squeezed Obie’s fingers and released them. “So I kept my mouth shut and played the best I could each and every game.”

  “And now….” James leaned closer, those eyes piercing and bright. “What are your plans? It’s plain my son has feelings for you, and I fear they may be interfering with his ability to see clearly.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “This is the young man I fought for, the son I did anything to protect, just so he could be himself. That’s all that has ever mattered to me, that my son could be the man he is and not have to hide part of himself.”

  “I have….” Bri was about to argue but couldn’t. He was hiding, and that required anyone he was with to hide as well. “I’m a gay man trying to figure things out.” He stopped, realizing that this was the first time he had ever used those words. “And everything isn’t cut and dried.”

  “Dad, I think this is enough,” Obie snapped. “You just met him, and he’s been under a lot of stress. Is now really the best time for us to have this conversation?” Obie glared, and to Bri’s surprise, his father nodded and sat back.

  “A chip off the old block, that one,” James said, pride ringing in his voice.

  Bri turned to catch Obie’s gaze. “Sometimes it amazes me how strong you are. Like a tiger or something.”

  “My boy never took much crap from anyone,” James said. “Not even me.” James handed him a card. “If you have any questions about the case, feel free to call me. I’ll do my best to keep you up to date.” He stood. “As for the rest, I’ll do my best to keep my nose out of my son’s business, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  Bri nodded. “Actually, I do have just one question.” He couldn’t help it. “What possessed you to name him Obie Juan Kenoble?”

  “Bri,” Obie whispered and James grew serious before smiling and then chuckling.

  “They’re family names, and I figured if I gave him a name like that, no one would forget him. Sometimes in this world, all it takes to be successful is to be remembered. Besides, I loved those movies, and that character was wise and willing to make the tough choices. That’s someone to respect and admire.” James clapped Obie on the shoulder. “He’s more than lived up to it.” He turned and headed for the door, leaving them both speechless.

  “DAMMIT TO hell!” I can’t take it any longer. My head hurts so bad, I can’t see straight. They told me the house and garage were supposed to go up like a Roman candle with everything I packed in there. He was home when it went off. I even screwed up the gunpowder. Next time, there won’t be any mistakes.

  “… All reports are that Mr. Early, while home during the incident, wasn’t injured in the fire.”

  “Shit!” A crack fills the room, and I drop the remote to the floor in pieces.

  Chapter 8

  OBIE STARED after his father. He had always hated his name and did his best to keep it a secret. He’d certainly never thought of it in the way his father had just said. “I guess I should take care of all this.” He needed a second alone to digest what had just happened. “I’ll be right back.” He grabbed the handles of the enameled tray and hurried to the kitchen.

  “You know, your dad is pretty cool,” Bri called after him.

  “You’re not upset or embarrassed all to hell?” He knew he was. “Dad doesn’t have much of a filter when it comes to certain things, especially me. You could give him access to all the nation’s secrets and he’d never utter a word. But if it has anything to do with me, my dad doesn’t seem to be able to shut up.”

  “He cares about you,” Bri said as he crutched his way into the kitchen. “Now I know where you get your spirit from.” He smiled as Obie looked over his shoulder to see if Bri was teasing him. He didn’t seem to be. “Don’t be embarrassed by your dad. I liked him. He sure knows how to give a guy a kick in the ass, though.” Bri rubbed his backside for effect.

  “Don’t let him get under your skin. Dad takes things pretty seriously.” It was part of the reason Obie didn’t introduce his dad to his friends right away. He had a tendency to scare them off.

  “You have a lot in common with your dad,” Bri said, and Obie whirled around.

  “I do not!” he said almost vehemently and turned away once again before Bri could give him the stink eye. “Dad is… he was always supportive…
militantly so. When he found out I was being bullied, he got involved. But still, it was hard as hell being the kid of the police commissioner.”

  Bri stood his ground, listening. Obie had to give him credit—he didn’t load him up with a bunch of platitudes.

  “He was in a position of power. That meant that the big guys in school thought picking on me gave them greater status. They were brave enough to bully the police commissioner’s kid. I didn’t want Dad to know because I didn’t want him to think I was weak and useless. So I kept it from him until it got bad. When it did, Dad came down on everyone. Yeah, he helped me set up the alliance and all, but things were still bad a lot of the time.” Obie wiped his hands on a dish towel. “None of that was his fault. I know that now, but I still blamed him for it.” God, sometimes teenage thinking could mess you up big-time. “He and I worked things out some time ago, but it’s still hard to get stuff straight in my head.”

  Obie took a step. Bri opened his arms, letting his crutches fall to the floor with a metal tink, and Obie came closer. Bri’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding tightly. He didn’t say anything, just held him, and Obie buried his nose in Bri’s shirt, inhaling deeply. When he lifted his gaze to make sure this was all right, Bri’s met his, heat sparked, and he went up on his tiptoes to get closer.

  Bri closed the distance between them, kissing him hard, energy surging, setting every cell in Obie’s body on fire. He held on to him, and he’d probably have climbed Bri like a tree except for his bad knee.

  “Your crutches,” he mumbled and reluctantly backed away.