What He Bargains (What He Wants, Book Nineteen) (104 page)

There was the sound of a woman’s voice, but Faith couldn’t hear her words. Just knowing it was a woman sent her stomach into knots.

And Chase had sounded caring and concerned, which made her wonder if this wasn’t some ex-lover or ex-girlfriend showing up at his doorstep.

Just the thought of it made her almost unbearably jealous.

Calm down, Faith. It could be anyone standing out there right now
.

She hurried out of the bedroom and ran down the stairs to the first floor. Already, Chase was letting the woman in.

It took Faith a moment to register that Monique was standing in the apartment, talking to Chase.

Monique was wearing a long dark coat and dark sunglasses. She looked much different than she had the other night. It was as if she was attending a funeral.

“Hi, it’s me again,” Monique greeted her. Her voice was low and raspy. “I’m so sorry to disturb you guys, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

Chase was clearly uncomfortable. “What…ah…do you want—you know…do you need anything?”

Monique shrugged slightly, and Faith realized that this was truly a job for a woman. Chase was a big, strapping, strong man. He had no idea what it was like to be vulnerable, to be in Monique’s situation.

“Do you want to talk for a minute, just the two of us?” Faith said. “We can sit and have coffee in the kitchen.” She looked at Chase and he seemed relieved to be off the hook.

“I actually wanted to hop in the shower,” he said. “I’ll be down in like twenty or thirty minutes.”

Faith waved at him. “We’ll be fine,” she assured him, and then put her hand on Monique’s shoulder. “Coffee sound good?”

“Yes,” Monique said, and her voice was strained but grateful. “Thank you.” She pulled off her sunglasses and her eyes looked very tired, and one of them was black and blue.

Faith felt a surge of pure, unadulterated rage as she realized that this was clear proof that Chase’s story was true—not that she ever had reason to doubt it.

They walked into the kitchen and Faith started a pot of coffee. As she worked, Monique unbuttoned her coat and put it over the chair next to the table and then sat down.

“I’m not sure if Chase told you about what happened to me the other night…”

“He did,” Faith said.

There was a long silence and Monique didn’t seem anxious to fill it.

“So,” Faith said, smiling, trying to put Monique at ease. “I take it you’re not just here to test out my coffee making skills.”

“No, I wish that was what brought me here,” Monique replied wearily. She dragged a hand across her forehead and closed her eyes. “I’m dead tired. Haven’t slept in forty-eight hours. And I’m scared, too.” She opened her eyes and Faith was struck once more by how beautiful Monique was, even with everything that was happening to her.

“What are you scared of, right this instant?” Faith asked.

“That I don’t know what I’m doing. That my life is going down the drain.”

“Anything else?” Faith probed.

Monique licked her lips and tapped the table, nodding. “I’m scared of
him
,” she whispered.

“Do you want to tell me about what happened to your eye?”

“I hardly remember. But I know what happened because it’s happened before. This wasn’t the first time, not even close.”

Faith sighed, pulling down two mugs from the cupboard and then pouring the steaming coffee into them. Her own heart was beating fast but her hands weren’t shaking yet, at least. “How do you take it?”

“I have no idea,” Monique croaked. “I guess I’m just crazy like that.”

“No, I mean your coffee. How do you take it?”

The two women made eye contact and burst into laughter. Instantly, a great deal of the tension left the room.

“Black,” Monique said, and that set them both to laughing once more.

Faith brought her mug to her and then sat down next to her with her own mug, and crossed her legs. “Tell me about him,” she said.

“Well, first of all—to me, he’s not Velcro. He’s just Steve.”

Faith understood all too well what the other woman was saying. “I completely get that, believe me.”

“I know,” Monique said. “We’re our own little club—girlfriends and wives of athletes, and especially superstar athletes. It’s something that you can’t really relate to unless you’re one of us. That’s part of why I came here. I figured you’d be here with Chase, and I wanted to talk to you.”

“Really? You were looking for me?”

Monique chuckled. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know.” Faith shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Well, you should give yourself more credit.”

Faith smiled. “Fine, I will.” She took a sip of coffee. “So, about Steve…”

Monique’s slight smile dwindled on her face a she contemplated the topic of her fiancé. “Steve’s complicated.”

That seems like quite the understatement
, Faith thought, as she stared briefly at the ugly shiner on Monique’s eye.

Monique didn’t seem to notice Faith’s staring. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “When we first met, it was electric. The physical and emotional connection we had was off the charts. Know what I mean?”

Again, Faith did. She nodded her understanding, thinking of what had transpired between her and Chase. “Yeah, it can be interesting.”

“I bet.” Monique arched an eyebrow. “The two of you look like you want to jump each other all the time.”

“We do?”

“Hey, I’m not judging.” Monique laughed more easily. “Anyway, me and Steve used to be like that. It was just, like, hot, all the time. He truly swept me off my feet. And even when the first signs of trouble started, I didn’t really notice because everything was moving so fast. Steve invited me to come live in Boston with him, and I did. I moved away from everyone and everything I knew to be here with Steve, to support his career—and to build our life together.”

Faith felt sweat beads breaking out on her forehead. Listening to Monique was in some strange way, like hearing herself talk about Chase. The exciting early days, the warning signs, the refusal to see the darkness ahead.

Sacrificing so much for one man you didn’t know well enough.

Monique picked up her coffee but didn’t drink it. She put the mug down. “The arguments between us started getting more intense when Steve got injured last season and was in rehab. He was so frustrated being out of the game, and he started taking it out on me. He’d pick fights with me, and he started acting crazy jealous. It was as if, without the outlet for his aggression, he had to put it all somewhere.”

“And that somewhere was you,” Faith said.

Monique sighed. “Sure. I tried to be understanding, but I was getting scared of him. He slapped me one night after a party—sound familiar?”

“It does,” Faith said, remembering how quickly the mood had soured between Monique and Velcro at the party in their hotel room.

“Maybe it was the alcohol, I don’t know.” The other woman’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I was more shocked than hurt, the first time it happened. But after that first slap, something shifted between us. It seemed like Steve was always one step away from shoving me, grabbing me, getting angry and screaming in my face.”

“Did you talk to anyone about it?” Faith asked.

“What, like therapy?”

“Anyone,” Faith said.

Monique shook her head, crossed her long legs. “In my family, therapy was for head cases that couldn’t handle their own shit. Pardon my French.”

“Not a problem.”

“I tried to bring it up around one or two of the other player wives, but they instantly froze me out and shut me down when I did. It was like I’d farted loudly at someone’s dinner table,” Monique said. “I couldn’t tell my mother or sisters. They’d have freaked out and flown out to Boston to confront him—and believe me, that would’ve just made things worse for me.”

“So you just dealt with it all yourself,” Faith said.

“Yeah. I considered leaving him on occasion, after a bad fight or something. But then he’d turn on the charm for a few weeks and win me back, have me convinced that this time he’d really stopped for good. I guess I’m just dumb or something.”

“You are
not
dumb,” Faith said, her voice getting loud. She stared at Monique. “Don’t talk that way.”

Monique’s gaze fell to the table. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. He’s got your head spinning and he’s obviously undermined your self-esteem. It’s not okay,” Faith told her.

The other woman looked up again, and now the tears in her eyes were falling, trailing down her cheeks as her jaw trembled. “I’m so scared,” she whispered.

Faith stood up and walked over to where Monique was sitting. She leaned down and hugged her tightly from behind. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I need help,” Monique said. “I don’t know what to do next.”

Faith let go of her and knelt down beside her. “Can you return to Atlanta—go and stay with your family?”

“I—I think so,” she replied, nodding hesitantly. “I have a little money saved up in a secret account that Steve doesn’t know about. I’ll buy a ticket for tomorrow morning.”

At that moment, Chase stepped into the kitchen. His face told Faith that he’d perhaps heard some of the conversation—or at least, enough of it to know what was happening.

“You can stay here tonight and we’ll take you to the airport tomorrow,” he told her firmly.

“I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“It’s no imposition,” Faith said. Of course, it wasn’t really her place to say that. But Chase obviously felt strongly that he wanted to help, and Faith thought it only right to reassure Monique that she had their full support.

Monique hung her head and now the crying had gotten more apparent, as her shoulders shook. “I can’t thank you guys enough. I think I really need help. I need to get away from him before…before he does something terrible to me.”

Chase came further into the room. “We’re not going to let him hurt you. You’re safe here.”

He said it with confidence, but Faith wasn’t so sure. Was Monique really safe?

Monique thanked them over and over again through her tears.

Faith looked over to Chase, her heart beating strong in her chest. His eyes were somber and she knew what he was thinking.

Life was about to get very complicated.

A
little while later
, Monique was in the guest room, and Chase and Faith were in the master bedroom.

He was pacing back and forth in front of the bed, while Faith sat on the bed and reading on her cell phone about domestic violence and how to help someone who was a victim of it.

“Maybe we need to get her to a shelter?” Faith said.

“She’s flying home in the morning,” Chase said, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, maybe. We don’t know if she even bought herself a ticket yet.”

“I’ll buy her a damn ticket,” Chase replied, his voice rising.

“Don’t talk so loud!” Faith whispered. “We don’t want to make her feel bad.”

“We’re the last people she needs to worry about. Velcro’s going to make her feel bad if he gets hold of her again.”

“Don’t get upset,” Faith said. “We need to stay calm.” She continued reading about victims of domestic violence. It was frightening how often women were hospitalized or even killed by their husbands and their boyfriends.

It was so common that their spouse or boyfriend would be the first person questioned by police if a woman was murdered.

“How can I not get upset?” Chase asked. He stopped and faced her. “This guy is on my team. And he’s the most popular person on the team, in the locker room and with the media and the fans. Now I’m going directly up against him and the front office by helping his fiancé run away.”

“I know it’s a tough situation—“

He laughed bitterly. “It’s a lot more than that. In case you hadn’t noticed, my performances aren’t exactly lighting the world on fire. This isn’t the time to try and throw my weight around.”

“What do you want to do? Kick her out?”

“Obviously not.” He rubbed his beard stubble on his chin and then went to the window and stared outside. “It’s just bad timing.”

Faith wanted to comfort him but she could tell he wasn’t in the mood. “Maybe he won’t even find out you helped her.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Chase said. “Considering Velcro just got out of a car and is coming to my front door.”

“What?” she cried out, dropping her phone in a panic.

Chase was already running down the stairs to the first floor, as Faith was following behind him. He was fast—and she couldn’t keep up.

Her head felt faint and she was spinning a little from what Chase had just told her.

Velcro was here?

That meant somehow he’d found out where Monique was. But how?

Chase had already opened the front door by the time Faith got to midway down the staircase. She heard the guest bedroom door open and saw Monique coming out.

“Go back inside your room,” Faith instructed, her voice surprisingly calm, given the circumstances.

Monique hesitated. Her face looked pale and her eyes had dark circles under them. She retreated and closed the door and Faith turned to see what was going on with Chase and Velcro.

“Where’s ‘Nique?” Velcro said.

Faith could hear the other man’s voice, low and angry—still controlled, but barely.

Chase’s large body was blocking the doorway.

“Listen,” Chase began. “You can’t be here right now—“

“No. You listen,” Velcro said, his voice getting louder. “This is between me and her. You got nothing to do with this, Winters. Now step aside, I need to see my girl.”

“She doesn’t want to see you right now, and this is my house.”

Faith stood on the stairwell, not knowing what to do. She was terrified that Velcro might have a weapon.

“Dude, you have no idea what I’m capable of,” Velcro said. “I will take you out if you fuck with me. That’s my lady in there.”

“If you care so much about her, maybe you shouldn’t beat her,” Chase told him.