What He Bargains (What He Wants, Book Nineteen) (97 page)

Monique and Faith broke into relieved laughter as well. Faith took a different glass and clinked it with her new friend.

They seemed to share an unspoken bond, Faith decided. It was strange when you met someone and just had an instant connection—feeling as though you’d known one another forever.

Faith found that she had that sense with Monique, as the two of them instantly began talking and laughing like old friends.

Monique started telling Faith about the other players’ wives and girlfriends and how silly all the drama and cliques were. “I cant hang with most of them, but I have to try and make an effort for Vel’s sake,” she said, gesturing to her fiancé.

Velcro Jones and Chase were drinking over by the window and talking, heads bowed close together. Chase nodded and then let out a loud peal of laughter that sounded so genuine, it shocked Faith.

“I can’t believe I just heard him laugh like that,” Faith said softly. “He’s been in a tense mood ever since we got here.”

“That’s Vel,” Monique said, shaking her head in admiration. “That’s why he’s a leader. He’s not the biggest or the strongest, and he’s older than most of these guys. He’s from a different time, a different era. He believes in making people feel good.”

“And they all love him for it,” Faith said, sipping her wine.

Monique tilted her head. “They respect him, because he’s been through it all. But more than that, he just likes people. And he seems to have a way of loosening everyone up, getting them to relax. It’s why I love him.”

Faith watched Monique staring at her fiancé and smiled, appreciating the obvious caring she displayed for Velcro.

Chase was still grinning, and even though Faith didn’t know why, it thrilled her that he’d made some kind of connection with someone on the team. She hated thinking of him being so alone with everyone against him.

“Is it hard watching the games, seeing Vel get hit and knocked around?” Faith asked.

Monique’s smile died on her lips. She studied her wine glass. “The game is tough,” she said. “It does something to them. It…it changes people.”

“How so?”

“It’s violent,” she said, and looked up, her gorgeous eyes locking on Faith, her gaze suddenly penetrating and almost angry.

Faith felt a mysterious chill run through her. “But they know how to deal with it,” she said, as if defending against Monique’s claim that Chase could also be irrevocably changed. “They’ve been playing football since they were kids.”

“This is different,” Monique told her. “This isn’t high school or even college football. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love the game and I see that it’s his passion, it’s his gift. But there’s a cost, honey. Don’t ever let them tell you that they don’t deserve the millions they earn. Every penny of that money is earned in blood and tears.”

At that moment, Chase grabbed a box of tissues off one of the tables and Velcro ran across the room, pretending to run a passing route as if he was on the football field.

Chase tossed the tissue box in a high arc and Velcro ran almost to the door of the room, one arm outstretched, turning to look back over his shoulder as the tissues flew at him.

It looked impossible for him to reach it, but then at the very last moment, his fingers outstretched and snagged the box, pulling it in as Faith and Monique burst into cheers.

Clapping, Faith found herself thinking that Velcro genuinely looked thrilled and proud, as if he’d just caught a pass in the big game in front of thousands of screaming fans.

He spiked the box on the carpet and then did his patented “Velcro slide” that he was known for, before breaking into a hearty laugh.

Chase raised his arms and then ran across the room in a few easy strides and gave his teammate a high five and they chest bumped, both of them laughing.

The next hour or so, everyone just talked and laughed like old friends. Velcro told all kinds of funny stories about situations he’d seen in his long career—dumb players, jerky coaches, games that went horribly wrong.

He was a funny storyteller who clearly enjoyed the spotlight.

The only strange moment came near the end, when Chase was standing near the window, getting himself a bottle of water (he’d only had a glass or two of wine). Monique was walking past him to go to the bathroom and he hadn’t seen her coming, and took a step backwards just as she was walking behind him.

Monique bumped into him with a startled cry, and then she grabbed his arm to keep herself from falling backwards.

“Shoot,” Chase said, turning around. “I didn’t see you there.”

“No, it was my fault,” Monique said, shaking her head. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Too much wine.”

“You okay?” he said.

“I’m fine,” she laughed steadying herself. Then she grabbed his arm again, feeling his shoulder and bicep. “Jeez, and I thought Vel was strong. You’ve got arms like Hercules.”

“Yeah, but Vel’s got that midget strength,” Chase said, grinning.

Faith laughed and then turned toward Monique’s fiancé, who was watching them with a distinctly unpleasant expression on his face. His lip twitched. “You been overdoing it on the wine again, babe,” he said, but his voice wasn’t jovial anymore. His smile was forced. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“Really?” Faith asked them. “You can stay,” she said. “Right Chase?”

“Absolutely,” Chase said, his gaze uncertain. “Have another drink, Vel. Let’s talk about how we’re going to tear it up tomorrow.”

“Nah, man. I think I’m wiped.” He walked over to Monique and grabbed her by the wrist. “Come on, baby.”

“I’m not ready to call it a night yet,” she said. “I’m having fun.”

“A little too much fucking fun,” Velcro insisted, gripping her wrist tighter.

“Hey,” she said, jerking her arm away from him. “Lay off.”

“You’re drunk,” he rasped. “Now don’t embarrass yourself.” He started for the door.

“You’re the one embarrassing yourself,” she said, her voice rising.

Velcro threw the door open and it banged, hitting the wall hard, making Faith jump. She looked at Chase and he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Monique’s fiancé stalked out into the hallway, as she folded her arms and glared at him, not having budged an inch.

“Come on,” Velcro said from outside. “Let’s go!”

“Asshole,” she muttered, and then turned toward Faith. Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry about this,” she said.

“No, don’t—don’t worry. It’s been lovely,” Faith told her. “We’ll do it again soon, okay?”

“Sure,” Monique said, but without much conviction, and her eyes were filled with unshed tears as she rushed from the room, and then the two of them disappeared out of view.

Chase came over to where Faith was standing. “I knew that was a mistake,” he said.

“I just don’t understand what happened.”

“I called the guy a midget,” Chase said, grimacing.

“Maybe not your finest moment,” she admitted.

“We were all goofing around,” he said. “It was a joke.”

Faith thought about it, replaying the incident in her mind. “I don’t think that was what got him so upset.”

“No?”

“No,” Faith shook her head. “I think he got upset when Monique touched you.”

“She stumbled into me.”

“And then she felt your bicep and started going all goo-goo over it.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Faith told him.

Chase’s eyes were hooded as he frowned deeply. “Stupid,” he whispered. “I knew I should’ve just come up here with you, kept to myself tonight.”

“No, you did nothing wrong.” Suddenly, out of her peripheral vision, a small blue object caught her attention. It was wedged between the couch cushions, and she crossed over and picked it up. “Shit, I think this is Monique’s cell.”

Chase stared up at the ceiling. “Great. Fucking great. Let me see it,” he said.

She handed him the phone. “Should I bring it back to her?” she asked him.

“I’ll do it,” Chase said. “Their room is just up a couple floors. I’ll run up there now,” he said, starting for the door.

“I’ll come too,” Faith said.

“No,” he told her. “I don’t like the way he’s acting and I’m not putting you in danger.”

“Chase—“

He opened the door. “I’ll be back in two minutes. I’ll take the stairs and be back before you can snap your fingers.”

And then he left.

Faith stood there, a horrible sensation of sinking doubt in her stomach. She snapped her fingers, alone in the empty room.

Staring around the room at the half-empty wine bottles and wine glasses with Monique’s lipstick smeared on the rim, and a few crumpled napkins—it looked like the ending of some sad little party.

And it felt that way, too.

Somehow they’d all gone from having a wonderful time together, to this ugly scene that made her feel dirty inside.

Monique and Velcro had seemed so nice, and they’d been the only one’s willing to try and cross the divide between Chase and the rest of the team.

Now things were worse than ever.

But maybe not, Faith thought, as she picked up the bottles and carried them into the kitchenette, where she dumped the wine into the sink.

Maybe when Chase goes up and meets them to give Monique back her cell phone—maybe they’ll talk and laugh and everything will be okay again.

But it was hard to really imagine that happening, not with how angry the two had been just minutes before.

Everything always seems to turn dark
, Faith thought, as she continued cleaning.
Everything starts out promising and then somehow takes a turn into a dim alleyway
.
It’s like Chase is cursed—or maybe we’re cursed as a couple.

Shadows were crowding into her mind, and she tried to stay positive, but it was difficult.

Remembering the break-in earlier that day, and Boogie stealing his money and making veiled threats…and Club Alpha, hovering in the background, ready to pounce at any opportunity.

Chase’s secrets seemed to be piling up and who knew where they would lead in the end?

How could she and Chase ever survive the perils of his complicated life?

Just as she was mulling all this over as she straightened up the room, Chase opened the door and came inside, and then quickly shut it and held one hand against the door, as if bracing himself.

He’s sick
, Faith thought, as she ran towards him.

“What’s wrong?” she gasped.

He shook his head. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“Chase,” she said, folding her arms. She was holding a crumpled napkin in one hand. “What happened? Tell me.”

Chase didn’t turn around. He was still facing the door, head bowed. “It…it was fine. I gave the phone back.” Finally, he did turn, but he didn’t look at her.

“Did they seem okay?”

“Stop asking me a million questions, Faith,” he said, walking past her so quickly she could practically feel a breeze when he went by.

“A million questions? I just—“

“I know,” Chase said, moving towards the bedroom. “I know, you just want to make everything okay. But it’s not okay, and I can’t fucking think about this shit anymore.” He continued into the bedroom and Faith followed him.

“What’s not okay?”

He spun around and the look on his face was cold and furious. “I shouldn’t even have had that damn phone, and I wouldn’t have. Except you encouraged me to be friendly and have a few drinks,” he said, glaring at her.

“Why is that bad?” she said. “Why is that my fault? Because they got drunk and couldn’t handle their liquor?”

“Yeah, that’s why,” he said, shaking his head in disgust.

“If something happened—“

“Just stop,” Chase told her. “I’m taking a shower and I really don’t want to talk about this shit. I’ve got a game in the morning and I’m not letting anything fuck with my head anymore.”

“That’s nice. Well, thanks for inviting me!” Faith called after him. “I’m so glad I came!”

He ignored her, going into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Faith felt her insides burning up with anger.

Who does he think he is? Why is he being such an asshole?

She was furious but there was nothing she could do about any of it. It was very obvious that things hadn’t gone well when he’d returned Monique’s phone, but since he refused to tell her what happened, Faith was in the dark.

Yet again, in the dark.

All he does is keep secrets.

Maybe that’s just who he is, Faith. Are you okay with that?

She didn’t really know. She walked out of the bedroom and into the lonely suite, where she sat on the couch and took out her phone.

There were dozens of texts from friends and family that she still hadn’t read. But for some reason, out of everyone she could’ve talked to, she only wanted to speak to her sister.

Faith called Krissi and waited, sitting on the couch with her legs curled beneath her.

“Where are you?” her sister asked immediately. “Everyone’s freaking out about you and Chase Winters.”

Faith sighed. “Calm down, please. I need you to just be my sister, not some Chase Winters fanatic.”

“Oh,” Krissi said, her tone changing. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, as the tears started to surface. The look of anger and almost hatred on Chase’s face a few minutes ago had been so ugly. “I don’t think I’m okay,” she whispered, and started to cry.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m…I’m not sure.” The words and thoughts were all jumbled in her mind as she tried to explain. “I’m with Chase Winters at a hotel near the stadium, because he’s got a game tomorrow.”

“You’re with him right now?” Krissi asked, her voice sounding awed.

“He’s in the shower. But that’s not the point…he’s just angry, and I don’t know why. I don’t know what to do.”

“He’s mad at you?”

“Yes.”

She started to sob, thinking about how cruel his eyes had been, how cold his voice as he’d blamed her for the way his teammate and Monique had behaved.

Krissi sounded surprisingly calm. “Just tell me what happened, Faith. Everything’s fine, I promise.”