| |
“Hey.” I fist bump both the guys, greeting them first thing the next day at the dean’s building. “Are we ready?”
“Yes,” Chandler mumbles, with dark bags under his eyes.
“You all right? You’re looking like shit, bro.”
“I’m fine. I was up all night trying to get the girls to come with us. Neither of them would budge, and both of them ended up fighting with me the entire time I was at their apartments.”
“Fun,” JJ grumbles sarcastically at Chandler’s admission, causing him to roll his eyes.
Not wanting to get into it again with him about not setting boundaries, we head into the main office and ask the receptionist to let us in. Dean Wilcox had a few meetings, so we had to wait a while before he finally called us in.
“Well hello gentlemen,” he greets, wearing a friendly smile. “I didn’t know it was some of our football players out here or I would’ve had Annette cancel my last meeting.”
“It’s no problem, sir,” Chandler replies and shakes the older man’s hand. JJ and I follow suit, and then we all take a seat in the leather chairs placed around the front of his desk.
“So what can I do for you three? By the way, nice win last week; we really appreciate your dedication to our program.”
“Thanks,” we mumble, not looking forward to the news we have to share and the fact that it has to do with a football player at that.
“Well, sir,” Chan begins, “we have an issue with a fellow player.”
I feel like that’s an understatement. My problem with Briggs is huge. I’d let him get mauled a few times by an angry bear if it were up to me. There’s no love lost between us either, now that he knows how much I can’t stand him.
“Shouldn’t you ughmm,” he clears his throat, suddenly uncomfortable, “be speaking to your coach about that sort of thing, young man?” His eyebrows rise as he taps his fingers on the large white calendar taking up most his desk top. It’s full of scribble writing, no doubt his own. A secretary would be fired with penmanship like that.
“Normally, yes, we would, but this has an illegal aspect that we thought you’d appreciate being brought to your attention.”
“Very well then, shoot.”
Tightening my lips, I try to hold back the chuckle wanting to break free at his choice of words. It’s his belt buckle; it’s so big that it’s screwing with me not to stare openly at it.
Listening aptly, Dean Wilcox barely breathes as we each tell him different parts about what Briggs has been up to with the females on campus and then about our ‘social outing’ at my ranch and him trying to drug someone.
“Wow.” Sitting back in his chair, he adjusts the overly large buckle at his waist, drawing my eyes back to the ostentatious piece of metal. The Dean’s like a citified cowboy or something, always in a brand new Stetson hat and belt to match. “I’m assuming you have a way to prove all of this?”
Sitting beside me, Chandler complies, laying a memory stick on the solid oak desk. “Two women who were victims of Briggs were able to download files from his computer each time that they visited his apartment. We had his phone too, but we destroyed it so no one would see all the filth he had on it.”
“So these women, they continued to see him after what they’d been through? You’re sure these videos weren’t authorized by both parties?”
“Yes sir, they umm...they had to keep seeing him, it was part of the whole scheme. If they tried to stop doing what he wanted, he threatened to post the videos and pictures on the public forums.” Shrugging, Chandler quickly glances to the side at us both, uncomfortable talking about the situation.
“Well, shit.” A curse slips free from Dean Wilcox, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him lose his professional façade. Sitting forward, he rests his elbows on the edge of the oak desk and places his face in his hands.
JJ glances over at me next, looking freaked out as if we just broke the Dean or something.
“I’m going to call campus security and have them arrest this man after we view everything. Whatever you do, gentlemen, don’t speak a word of this to anyone. I don’t want him to know what we have up our sleeve before we actually have a chance to get the proper steps in motion.”
Chandler interrupts, “Sir, the women who were able to get this don’t want anyone to know. They’re hoping he’d get expelled and banned from the property.”
“And I hope you’re kidding. If this all happened like you three are telling me, then this guy needs to be put in jail. Expelling him won’t stop him from doing this again and hurting other women. The University of Alabama does not tolerate this sort of behavior from a student—ever.”
“I agree,” I reply and elaborate on our plan. “But they refuse. JJ and I were thinking about contacting sites and papers anonymously about him, so it spreads, but none of the victims are named.”
“They won’t print it without some sort of proof, police involvement, and a trial. I’m sorry, but this man has the intent to hurt other students. I have to report this. I applaud you for bringing it to my attention; you did the right thing. Now wash your hands of it and let me take care of it. Understand?” He orders sternly, and we all reply, “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be speaking to your coach about this as well, but I won’t bring you into it. No one needs to know who gave me the information—just that I have it. If you find out anything else, please don’t hesitate to come to my office. Now relax and have a good day. You need to be thinking about football, none of this other stuff anymore. Let the authorities handle it.” He smiles, back to being professional.
“Thank you,” I respond and stand, the guys following suit.
“Have a good day, gentlemen.” Repeating himself, he holds his office door open for us to pass through.
Once we’re outside, JJ turns to us, “I figured he would’ve wanted us to give statements to the cops at least.”
Chandler nods, chewing on his bottom lip, obviously something running through his own mind.
“Yeah, but maybe he wants to try and bust him without our names being involved unless it’s absolutely necessary. He must think they have enough evidence that he won’t need to involve our names in it. Frankly, I’m glad about it. I want Briggs gone, but when the NFL does any looking into me, that’s not something I want to pop up. It’s better this way, and our names won’t be tied to it, even if we were just trying to help.”
“Yeah, you’re right about that,” JJ agrees.
“Now what?” I ask.
“We do what we’re good at.” Chandler finally flashes a small smile. “We play football.”
“Sounds like a plan. Did y’all notice his damn belt buckle?” I ask, and they both chuckle.
Three days later Chandler storms into the locker room, forcibly tossing his gear into his locker, clearly upset about something, ready to lose it.
“What’s the matter, bro?” JJ steps beside him.
Chandler, angrier than I can ever remember seeing him, faces us. “That motherfucker is gone, I can’t believe it. All that work and for nothing, what a waste,” he rambles on.
“Excuse me?” I take a step closer so he can explain without involving the entire team.
“Gone, you guys. Like as in, he packed his shit up and got out of there.”
You know somethings bad if he’s swearing like this. He obviously means Briggs by how pissed off he is.
“How? The cops probably have him.” I try to reason, not wanting Coach Stratton to notice the noise coming from our way.
“They don’t. Lila saw him packing his things into his car and taking off. I called the campus police and apparently ‘he’s wanted for questioning.’ But they don’t have him. And now she’s freaking out about it all, thinking that he’s going to put out the videos of her on the campus website.”
Shaking his head, JJ argues, “No way. Dean Wilcox said he’d take care of it, and I trust him, she’s just being dramatic.”
“Yeah, I thought so too, so I called him. They weren’t able to pick Briggs up. Wilcox actually had the nerve to ask me if we were the ones who warned Briggs to get out of here! Can you believe the nerve of that guy?”
Running my hands through my hair, I let out an irritated grumble, “Shit.”
“Yeah, that’s not all,” Chandler continues, outraged. “I told him to go to hell. I wasn’t putting up with those ridiculous accusations.”
“Oh God.” Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I meet his gaze. “Please tell me you’re exaggerating.”
“Nope. I told him to go straight to hell, and then I hung up on him.” He starts fighting with his shoulder pads, his moves too jerky so that they keep getting caught on one of the sides of the small locker box.
“Jesus Chandler, he can get you benched from games for that shit!”
“He needs to worry about catching a psycho running around campus that’s blackmailing women, not an angry football player who was rude for two minutes.”
JJ interrupts, whispering, “Shhh!” And then glances around at each of our teammates suiting up to make sure no one overheard us.
“Why should I be quiet? I’ve already thought it over. If he wants to get me in trouble for any of it, I’ll go to the media. I’ve sat by and waited just like he told us to do three days ago and then he goes and fucks it all up!”
“I get it that you’re upset man,” I try to reason a little with him. “Hell, we all are, but you need to calm down.” Stratton will have his pants in a wad if he gets wind that we’re caught up in this mess, so close to the bowl.
“Seriously, Owens?” Chan growls. “I’ve spent nearly every waking moment that I’m not at practice with these two women, and now they’re terrified that he’s going to come for them or post the videos all over the place. It’s my fault for getting them to steal the stuff in the first place. I should’ve turned that phone in to the police when I had the chance, and then they’d already have him.”
“I’m sorry they’re freaking out, and I can see that you’ve clearly started to care for them, both of them, but this is their fight, not yours. It may make me sound like a dick, but you’re already doing enough by being around to protect them and help them stand up to Briggs. You should be proud man, not beating yourself up about it all. You did the right thing, we all did.”
JJ claps him on the back. “You need to let the cops do their job, C.”
With a few deep breaths, Chandler nods. “I’ll try to calm down, but it’s all wrong. Practice should help, I hope anyway. I don’t like feeling as if I’m helpless and right now I’m basically twirling my thumbs like an asshole.”
“I know man, I know. You can tackle some of the second strings to help get it all out.”
It’s the only way that I know how to help him. I’ve never dealt with this sort of thing before, but I also know that it’s not good for Chandler to be losing his shit after he’s done nothing but support the chicks and try to get some sort of justice. We have at least five games left, and I need him one hundred percent in all of them.
Pulling my phone free, I send a text to Kadence.
Me: Don’t forget to pack your bags for tomorrow.
Pretty Girl: Are we leaving right after the game again?
Me: Yes.
Pretty Girl: I can’t wait. I love you.
Me: I love you.
At least one good thing came from today—the knowledge that I’ll be with Kadence tomorrow.
Pulling up to the ranch, I’m so happy to be here again and that the guys won their home game today. Last weekend they lost, and their coach made them practice all weekend as punishment. I only got to see Tyler twice this past week and alone time with him is much needed at this point. I get it that football takes commitment, but I want a chance to be selfish with him and have him be all mine. I can handle sharing him with his brothers for a bit, but the rest is me being glued to his hip.
With his admission this past week of him telling me that he loves me, it’s seemed like the longest few days ever, waiting for him to have time off. People think football players show up for practice and play a game each weekend, But I’ve learned that it’s usually a cardio session in the morning, practice in the afternoon where they run plays, and weight training in the evenings. It’s complete dedication and discipline.
It’s crazy and overwhelms me when I don’t even play for the team. Occasionally they won’t have such a busy day, and that’s when Tyler and I will sneak in a date or lunch or a movie, anything. Then there’s also travel time for them if they have away games. One week, Tyler was gone for the entire week between traveling and two different games. It’s amazing that he keeps up with a full schedule and manages to get good grades while he’s at it.
“You ready, Pretty?” Tyler asks as he turns his truck off, parked in front of the large, old white house he calls home.
“Yes, I’m excited.”
“Good.”
“Why did you make me promise you so many times to come, though? I loved our visit out here last time.”
“You’re trying to get it out of the way, huh? Never patient.” He chuckles.
“So there is another reason you brought me then?”
“Yes, but I was hoping to at least unload the truck before we got into it.”
“Oh, is it bad?”
“Why do people always assume it’s something negative and then asks that?”
“I don’t know because those words usually mean bad news of some sort.”
“No Kay, you don’t have to worry about it being anything bad whenever I need to talk to you. We’ve been apart a lot lately, and we need to get caught up.”
“Okay, that makes me feel so much better then.”
“Come on, goof.” He kisses my hand before he hops out, stepping aside so I can scoot out of his side as well.
“Hey, it’s the sexy one and my asshole brother!” Nate calls from his perch on the porch. He’s going to wear a hole into that chair if he doesn’t stop sitting there so much.
“Don’t you ever work?” Tyler yells, grabbing our bags out of the back.
“I work. We’re not all pretty boy football players you know,” Nate taunts him, and Ty tosses his bag at Nate’s head.
“Hey!” His brother protests, grabbing the flying object quickly.
“Don’t hate me because I’m the pretty one and the talented one out of us three,” Ty taunts.
Laughing at them both, I hug Nate, “Hey Trouble.” It comes out more like a squeak as he squeezes me tightly, trying to egg on his brother by holding me tighter than needed. He’ll pay for it later. I know Tyler will mix a ton of pepper in his food or let all the air out of his truck tire. I’ve learned that he’s all for pulling pranks on his older brothers, and I love every minute of it. I can only imagine how they were when they were younger; I bet their mom was always after them for something.
Rolling his eyes, Ty frogs Nate in the shoulder and takes off inside. Nate’s mouth drops open, and he lunges at him, releasing me just like Ty wanted.
Giggling at them fooling around, I follow them into the house. Tyler takes off out the back door with Nate hot on his heels as Clyde appears.
“Hey, Clyde.” I smile, shaking my head at his two younger brothers being silly, still acting like a bunch of kids.
“Kadence.” His big arms pull me into a side hug, making me feel welcome. “Was the drive all right?”
“Yep, it was fine, just had to listen to your brother sing the entire way here.”
His eyes squint like he’s remembering a certain time. “Ah, yeah, after a while he sounds more like a wallowing cat.”
Grinning, I hold back my laugh. “That’s not exactly what I was going for, but I can see it.”
“You hungry? I’m about to fire up the grill.”
“I swear, all you guys do is eat. Tyler’s constantly trying to feed me and every time I’m here, you’re cooking.”
He just shrugs, waiting for me to answer his initial question.
“I could eat.”
“Good, I’ll fix some potatoes too.”
“Oh, are they broken?”
“That depends...”
“On what?”
“If you keep being a smartass, and I need to toss one at you.”
“Gah, force-feeding and violent with the food.” The laugh slips free after that and Clyde huffs, amused. Being together with Tyler this time around when we visit is much easier going and everyone’s full of smiles. I love it.
“Grab the Kool-Aid, sister,” he orders on his way out. I swear my face may break with how my lips are pulled back so far, grinning like a loon at the nickname he’s given me.
