Sidelined: A Wilde Players Dirty Romance (14 page)

“Don’t test me, Cassie. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He holds some wire hangers he’s undone. I sit quietly as the cold blade is pressed to my neck. “Twist this around your wrist and the chair.” There’s determination in his eyes. Rising anger has me snatching the proffered wire from his hand, and I twist it around like he expects me to. Once I’m done, he does my other wrist and comes back to secure the one I did so I can’t move and feel it pinch at my circulation.

“Calvin, what are you doing?” I ask again.

He leaves and comes back with my purse. Dumping it onto the floor, he finds my phone.

“What’s your passcode? I need to unlock it.”

When he’d been on the floor, I’d considered kicking him with my unbound feet. However, he’d been just far enough away, and I hadn’t been sure I could have done it. I decide to hold that card until I have a for sure shot.

I do what he asks, even knowing what’s coming next. Calvin may be book smart, but he’s criminal dumb. This is playing out like some movie he’s watched. He has to know there is no way he can get away with this. But I say nothing.

He scrolls through my contacts until he finds the one he wants and makes the call.

“Sorry, this isn’t your baby, “ Calvin says.

Fletcher’s enraged voice comes through, but barely distinct. He’s obviously yelling. Today is the day he’s supposed to meet the coaches. I’m surprised he’s answered his phone.

“Yeah, well, if you want her back in working order, you’ll stop demanding and start listening.”

There is a pause.

“Good, now I want you to bring me a million dollars cash.” Calvin listens for longer than I imagined he would. “Makes sense. Twenty thousand then.” He nods to no one. “Fine. Don’t tell anyone or bring the cops. Otherwise, she dies with me. And I’m not going to jail.” Another pause. “I think you know where. You have twelve hours.” Pause. “You’re a guy of means. Find a way.”

He hangs up and smiles at me. “You’ve really got that guy all wrapped up, just like you had me.”

I harrumph. “If I had you, why’d you cheat on me?”

The answer isn’t really important. But maybe if I can appeal to the guy I used to know, I can get out of this.

“I thought you understood my end game. You knew my plan for the future.”

“Wind turbines,” I say matter-of-factly.

“Exactly. Clean energy. I get that land, and I get the investors. We would have been set for life. I didn’t plan on the old man having a daughter he wanted married off. So I seduced Tara. I had no choice. I’d borrowed money that needed paying back. She turned out to be a good lay. I told you all of this.”

He had, but it seemed ludicrous. The truth is, he banged her because he wanted to and hadn’t denied it.

“I asked you to sell a number of times. You didn’t. I held off the guys as long as I could siphon money from the old man for…” he makes air quotes, “my wedding with Tara, the farmer’s princess.”

“You borrowed money from a loan shark.”

Shrugging, he says, “No one believed in me. You didn’t believe in me.”

“I did. I just didn’t see how you would finance this.”

“I needed a little capital. Besides, it’s too late for all that.”

“And you brought a loan shark to my house,” I say, thinking of the night he’d shown up.

“No!” He looks at me incredulously. “That was the guy that sells me the coke. I need that to take the edge off, you know.” No, I didn’t. “We did have good times, and maybe we can have more.”

“You aren’t the man you once were. I don’t know why you’ve fallen so far.” Anger makes me say things I shouldn’t. “You so easily gave up on a million dollars for twenty thousand. Or maybe that’s all I’m worth.”

It’s dumb to think that way, but who imagines themselves in this situation. I laugh, trying to fight back tears.

“Oh, you’re worth it to that asshole. He’s willing to wire me the rest of the money. He just can’t ask the bank for a million dollars in cash on short notice.”

Duh, which shows how coked up Calvin must be.

He steps closer to me. “Maybe if I got you pregnant, you’d forget about that asshole and stay with me.”

There is no fucking way I’m going to let him touch me, so when he gets close, I kick out. He tumbles back, and I get to my feet hunched over. I barrel forward.

“No fucking way!” I shout. “And I know about the car. You’re the one who hit Fletcher.”

Impact. He crashes back down from where he tried to stand. And the damn chair is made too well that it doesn’t fall apart like they do in movies. The fall throws me off balance, and he lands a kick to my gut. The air leaves me, and I gasp.

“How’d you find out about the car?”

I’m sucking in a breath, and it takes me a moment to wheeze out, “Insurance agent.”

“Of course,” he says, getting to his feet. “I couldn’t pay the deductible to get it fixed.”

Now I’m sure of his idiocy. If he was trying to hide the fact that he’d had a hit-and-run, why had he contacted our insurance company?

“Sorry about this.” Something hard hits my temple. Instead of seeing stars, I sink into darkness.

I wake to the sound of ringing, but it’s not my ears. The doorbell. I have no idea how long I’ve been out. Only the aches from lying on my side on the hard floor tell me it’s been a while.

Sideways, I watch as feet find the door. Fletcher barges in, sending my door to crash into the wall on the inside. There is a scuffle, but he groans as his knees buckle. His hand reaches for his recently rehabilitated knee, and I have to guess that Calvin landed a blow there.

Calvin brandishes a gun and levels it at Fletcher’s head. “Where’s the money?”

“Out on the porch.”

Calvin fires and I scream as Fletcher falls face first to the floor, but he isn’t out of the game quite yet. His leg lifts, and Calvin goes sprawling out the door. Then I hear it.

“Freeze!”

Fletcher

Leaving Cassie and getting on a plane to prove my worth and that Cassie’s rehab worked is harder than I thought. Leo waits for me at the curb in his shiny black Escalade when I exit the airport. He’s all white teeth and grins, but when I climb into the car and shut him down, he doesn’t get it.

“Fletch, you should be happy to be back and out of the sticks. Come on, man.”

“Cut the bullshit, Leo. You know damn well I’m pissed about this. You fucked me over, man. The coach did, too.”

“Fletch, baby, they have to know you’re roster-worthy.”

Gritting my teeth, I say, “If I hear you say, ‘Fletch, baby,’ one more time, you’re fired.”

“But, Fletch B—”

“I’m not even joking, Leo. This is not a fucking picnic. Do you know the rehab I’ve been through? I’d like to see you even come close to doing what I’ve done. Now shut the fuck up and drive.”

His yammer opens and closes a few times, but he decides his best option is to say nothing and puts the SUV in gear. It’s a good thing, too. The last thing I want to hear is his grating voice. When he pulls up in front of my house, he puts his car in park.

“Don’t bother getting out. We have nothing to say to each other.” I grab my bag out of the back and head inside. I’m done with his ass, and I’m looking for a new agent.

In the morning, I’m on the field bright and early. I want to get this over with. The day I’m scheduled to throw and give my demonstration isn’t until tomorrow, but fuck that. They want me here. I’m here. Let’s do this.

Coach comes up to me, along with the quarterback trainer, the offensive coordinator, the general manager, and the president of the team.

“Fletcher. Looking good,” Coach says.

“Feeling great,” I say with exaggerated exuberance. “I’m ready for my demo.”

“You’re scheduled for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I’m here. You all are here. Let’s get the show on the road, why don’t we?”

They all share glances. Then Coach asks, “What about Leo?”

“What about him?”

“He’s not here.”

“Fuck him.” I don’t add
he won’t be hanging around me much longer anyway
.

The offensive coordinator says, “I’m cool. You guys? Coach?”

“Yeah. Warm your arm up, Wilde.”

I nod and do some exercises and then toss the ball a few times, maybe fifteen minutes worth, until one of them comes and gets me.

“Ready?” Coach asks.

“As I’ll ever be.”

We go out onto the field, and they ask me to demo several different kinds of passes, of which bullets and Hail Marys seem to be the two they want to focus on. Probably because those are the ones that require the most strength and accuracy. My precision is dead-on. After I don’t know how many, because I lose count, they tell me it’s enough.

I walk to the sidelines, and the offensive coordinator comments that he’s never seen me throw so well. “I don’t know what you did, Wilde, but keep it up. You looked great out there.”

The president and Coach are low talking, so I don’t do anything except walk to my bag and fumble about, waiting for one of them to tell me something. Finally, Coach tells me to come back the next day because they want to talk about next year.

“Am I good for now?” I ask.

“Yeah. Nice work.”

“What time you want me here?”

“Nine.”

“See ya then.”

That night, I go make some contacts about getting a new agent. I need someone who has my back and not just his. After a few calls, I strike gold. Or at least it feels that way. We have a long discussion about our respective needs, and I send him over my current contract with Leo. It’s nothing that I can’t get out of without a thirty-day notice. I made sure of that when I signed with him.

I take care of some things at the house that need attending, along with talking to Cassie, but the next morning I’m up early and at the field again. I don’t let Cassie know a thing about what happened. I want to surprise her with the news when I get it.

The coach is interested in seeing how well my knee is doing. “I know you can throw, but what about pivoting and all that?”

“I’m okay. I have a bit more healing to do, but I’ll be prime when training camp starts.”

“Can you lunge yet?”

“Yeah,” I say, “but I have to be careful. As you can see,” I point to my knee, “I’m still in a brace.” Then I show him how much I can do.

“Good. Come on.” I follow him into the office where the general manager and president wait.

“Morning, Fletch,” they all say. I nod in return.

The president starts out by saying, “We were all impressed by your progress. To be honest, we thought you’d be warming the bench all season, and we were even prepared to trade you.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” So much for having faith in their players.

“But after yesterday, we are prepared to offer you another contract, even though this isn’t your year,” the general manager says, while the others look on and I’m waiting for their tongues to hang out of their mouths.

“Look, I really appreciate it. But before I can do any signing, I need to check with my girl back home.”

Coach’s face turns a dusky shade of purple as he speaks, “Girl? What’dya mean
girl
? Why would you check with anyone on something this huge?”

“Because I made a few mistakes when I first signed, and I won’t make those same mistakes twice. The fact is, there’s more to life than this game. Don’t get me wrong. I love this team, and I love football. But I love my girl more. So like I said, let me get back to you on that.”

Coach holds up his palm. “But you aren’t considering another team, are you?”

“I can’t say.”

The general manager stands up and says, “We’ll raise you, Fletcher. And before you sign with anyone else, come to us. We’ll make it financially worthwhile for you.”

I scratch my head a second. “Can I ask you guys something? When I was injured, and you didn’t know if I was coming back, did you even for a second give a shit about me and everything I had done for this team in the past?”

The crickets are chirping as loud as I’ve ever heard them.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I turn to leave, and as I open the door, I say, “I’ll let you guys know.” Maybe this isn’t the team for me after all. I’ll have my new agent on the lookout for something. When this upcoming season is over, maybe I’ll be picked up by another team. And maybe it’ll be close enough to home so that Cass and I can figure a way to work things out.

My bag is on the field, so I head on over and pick it up. On the way home, I really start to think about things—how important football is in comparison to Cass. I piddle around the house, putting things in order, and no matter what I do, the fact remains that I won’t be happy unless Cassie is with me. Tomorrow I return to my parents’ house. They will be getting back from their trip to Europe this weekend. And then I’ll be free to do whatever I want. But the thing is, I want to stay there until training camp. Being back here makes me realize exactly how lonely I am. My friends are few, and I don’t have a life that exists outside of football.

With my head wrapped around this subject, it barely registers when my phone rings. I answer it right before it goes to voicemail, and I’m glad I do because it’s the one person in the world who makes me happy.

“Hey, baby.”

“Sorry, this isn’t your baby.”

The voice turns my blood to ice in my veins.

“What the fuck is going on? If you touch one hair on her head, I swear to God I’ll knock your teeth all the way into your brain, you slimy piece of shit. Let. Her. Go!” I’m roaring into the phone. I’m surprised my neighbors haven’t heard me. Then that shithead demands I bring him a million dollars.

My molars crack as I grind them to death. “That’s impossible!” I yell. “Though I’d bring you ten if I could. The bank will only let me withdraw twenty grand at a time. Unless I get preapproval and that takes a while.” My hand scrapes my hair back. Jesus, if that fucker hurts Cassie, I’ll be in prison for his murder.

Then he tells me I have twelve hours to do this.

“Twelve hours? I’m in Okla-fucking-homa! How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

Oh, he says I’m smart and that I’ll figure it out. And I will even if I have to charter a jet. I get on the phone, and that’s exactly what I end up doing. Chartering a jet. I go to the bank and make a withdrawal and then come back here, where I order an Uber. I have no idea how long I’ll be gone this time, so I don’t want to leave my car out there.