Wide Open (23 page)

“I was drinking a lot. I wasn’t sleeping. Even after Hollis told me we could fix my financials, I drove out to Vegas with whatever money I could get my hands on. It never went my way, though. I won at most fifty thousand dollars.”

“Oh, is that all?” I laugh uncomfortably. I’m rocked to the core by the barrage of information he’s given me, torn over how to feel about the man he was, the man he is, and the massive disconnect between the two of them. But in the midst of it all, his lack of perspective on finances is still funny to me in an ulcer inducing sort of way. But I guess that’ll happen to you when you’re facing eight million dollars in debt. Fifty thousand doesn’t mean to you what it used to.

“Hollis got together with Coach Allen and they told me I had to stop. That’s when Coach came up with the plan to trade me away from L.A. He thought I needed a fresh start and distance from the desert. From Vegas.”

I smile fondly, my love for Coach Allen soaring. “Smart man.”

On camera Kurtis takes a deep breath, expanding his chest slowly. It’s like he’s rising. Coming up for air after being underwater for a very long time.

“And that’s it; every dirty, dark secret I have. That’s my truth.”

There’s an awkward moment where he looks away, looks into his own eyes at the camera, and it clear he’s debating. He’s unsure if there’s more to tell or something he should say to me. Eventually he reaches for the camera, his face coming in close to the lens as he goes to turn it off. I hurry to pause it. To capture him where I can look at him. Where I can
see
him, because I do now. So much more clearly than I could before.

My heart aches for him and Tommy. Even for Kyla. It hurts for the pain they all caused each other and the complete loss of love between all of them. I get it now, why he has such a hard time trusting people, and the fact that he made me this video, that he trusts me with his truth, is staggering. It sits like a stone in my chest, swelling until it hurts, until it’s hard to breathe, and I know what I have to do to ease the pain.

I tap the screen twice, bringing up the short list of commands on the camcorder. I hesitate only half a second before I hit DELETE.

On the bed, lost somewhere in Kurtis’ sheets, my phone begins to ring.

KURTIS

I don’t go far. I’m not leaving her alone for too long, not with Derrick stalking her. I go down to the local bakery and I’m only gone for an hour. The sun is lighting up the sky when I pull into the parking lot in front of my apartment. I don’t have a designated spot or a garage. No carport. If all of the spots in this small lot are taken, I’ll have to park my Challenger on the street, and that is not happening.  I can’t keep it here for long. She needs a garage, somewhere I can keep her safe, and that means I have to put her back in storage and go get my Blazer. Either that or I have to move.

As I step out of the car, running my hand along the roof glowing in the weak yellow light of dawn, I think moving sounds like the best option.

I just got her back. I’m not about to give her up again.

I’m nervous on the way up the stairs to my apartment. Harper will be done with the video by now. She’s had time to digest what I told her, but what will it mean? Will she be disgusted with me? Will she believe me that I never bet on my games? Will she show the video to the NFL? To the world?

When I open the door to my apartment, my heart sinks. Harper has been busy. She’s dressed, her hair and minimal make-up are perfect. Her bag that was a detonated bomb on the floor when I left is packed up tight. The bed has been made. Her shoes are on.

She’s standing by the window overlooking the busy street outside. Her cell phone is on her ear, but she turns to smile at me when I come in. She holds up her finger, asking me for a minute.

I ease a little when I see her smile. It’s gentle and generous, no judgement in her eyes. I nod in silent agreement to give her time, taking my brown bag of breakfast to the kitchen.

“What about my car?” she asks the person on the other end. “I don’t want to drive it all the way out there but I don’t want to be stranded either.”

She nods slowly as she listens to the answer. “Right. Sounds good… Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. I think you’re right. I think this is the perfect solution… Yes, you’re a genius… No, you really are. You’re a lifesaver. I love you… Yeah right. Don’t worry about me. I want nothing to do with your weird body… Right back at you… Yep. ‘Bye, Travis.”

She hangs up the phone, turning toward the kitchen.

I brace my hands on the counter. I wait.

Harper smiles again compulsively and I can’t understand where her head is at. Something has happened. She’s reacting to more than just my confessions and it’s swirling her emotions, making her impossible to read.

Her eyes land on the grease spotted bag between my hands. It lures her in close. “What’d you get?” she asks lightly, moving around the kitchen to stand next to me. “I’m starving.”

I push the bag toward her. “Donuts. Assorted. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Everything. I like everything.”

I watch as she digs in, pulling out a maple bar and taking a massive, contented bite. “Mmmm, so good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She looks up at me curiously, a thin sheen of sugar on her lips. “What’s your favorite flavor?”

You
, I think longingly.

“Lemon filled,” I answer.

“Weird.”

“That’s pretty judgmental for someone in your field. Aren’t you supposed to stay impartial?”

“That’s what they tell me,” she mutters, looking away. Taking another bite.

I can’t take it. My stomach is in knots, my heart heavy in my chest. My blood is sludge in my veins, pushing painfully through my body. I have to ask. I have to know.

“Harper,”

“I deleted it.”

I turn toward her, sagging against the counter. “You deleted it?”

“Yes. Of course I did. It was private.”

“Did you watch all of it?”

She puts down her donut, turning to face me. “I did. And do you want to know what I think?”

“Yes.”

“I think your lighting was shit.”

I snort, caught off guard. “You’re messing with me.”

She grins softly. “I am. A little bit.”

“It’s mean.”

“I’m not a good person.”

“Neither am I.”

“Then we’re perfect for each other, don’t you think?”

I search her eyes. Her stars. “I think we are.”

Her grin widens to a smile as I watch her. As we look at each other with no lies between us. She’s gorgeous in the light. In truth. She sees me, all of me, and she’s giving me so much. So many things I’ve never had before. Faith, hope, love, honesty. Trust.

No one has ever looked at me the way Harper does in that moment, and I hope no one else ever will. If I can’t have this from her, I don’t want it from anyone.

“Can I ask you some questions about the video?”

I laugh, unable to stop it. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Fire away.”

“Okay,” she agrees, picking up her donut again. “Kyla and Tommy. Did they get married?”

I nod, the movement jerky and stiff. “Yup. Last spring, according to a guy from the old neighborhood. She was six months pregnant.”

“Wow.”

“It’s what they wanted.”

“Yeah, but Tommy didn’t know about her. He didn’t know she cheated.”

“He didn’t know I helped her do it,” I remind her darkly.

She studies me patiently. “You take on a lot of the blame for what happened. I don’t think that’s fair.”

“Maybe, but I don’t take all of it. I think Kyla deserves a lot of the blame too. I didn’t seduce her. I didn’t pursue her. She was a willing participant every single time.”

“Tommy isn’t a saint, though. He lost everything for you and then he tried to hide it.” She holds up her hand to stop me as I open my mouth to argue. “And I know, he told you to your face that he did it, but not until he couldn’t avoid it. That’s like if he caught you and Kyla having sex and you admitted that it was happening. You’re not brave at that point. You’re boxed into a corner, and it sounds like that’s where Tommy was. Trapped.”

I shrug. “It doesn’t matter who was to blame for what, does it? It’s over. It’s done.”

“Do you ever think about calling him up and telling him the truth?”

Every single day,
I think bitterly.

“Yes,” I answer simply.

“I can’t believe he never got in touch with you. He woke up and you were gone and he just accepted that?”

“No, he didn’t.”

Harper waits, but I don’t elaborate. Finally she pushes gently, “What happened?”

I rip a piece of my donut free, stalling. But once I touch it, it feels heavy in my hand. My stomach turns at the thought of it and I drop it down onto the counter. Its bright yellow insides escape onto the counter like spilt sunshine.

“He sent me letters,” I tell her, wiping my hands against each other to dislodge the sticky sugar clinging to them. “I changed my number and he didn’t know where I was living, so he sent them to Hollis’ office. Kyla told him I didn’t want to talk to him or see him because of what he’d done to me. Every letter said he was sorry for ruining my life. He said he felt like shit. He told me not to forgive him. And every letter had a check in it.”

“He sent you money trying to make up for what he’d done,” she guesses accurately.

“Random amounts every time. He said it was everything he had to spare.”

“Does he still send them?”

I shrug, rubbing my hands together again. They still feel dirty. “I don’t know. Probably. My second year in Montana I told Hollis to send them back whenever they came. I never see them anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I sigh, sick of the topic. “What else do you want to know?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

“It’s a rare offer. Take advantage of it while it lasts.”

“How much debt is left?”

“A million five. Give or take.”

“That is staggering,” she balks.

“It’s been rough,” I confirm, standing up straight. I feel taller when I do. Taller than I’ve felt in years. “I’ve started building a savings though, trying to get ready for the future. I can’t play ball forever. One good injury and I’m finished. ”

“What will you do when that happens? Will you move back to New Jersey?”

I laugh loudly. “No. God no. I’m never going back there. I might not stay in L.A. but I’ll stick around California. This is home for me. I missed it when I was in Montana. When I’m on the road and I’m homesick, it’s for California.”

“What about flipping houses?” She glances at the nightstand crammed full of books. “You’ve obviously got an interest in it.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’d have to try it on my own place first. Find out if I’m any good.”

She smiles at me encouragingly. “I think you’ll be amazing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I think you’re amazing at everything you do.”

I grin thinly. “You’re biased.”

“I massively am. Yes.”

I hesitate, that heavy feeling in my stomach rising. Growing. “Can I ask you a question now?”

“Always,” she agrees without hesitation.

“Did it change how you see me?”

Harper is slow to answer. She thinks the question over carefully, her eyes fading and falling out of focus. She finally looks at me solidly. “It did. It does change how I see you, but not in a bad way. I see more of you now. I understand some things I didn’t before and that feels good. I want to know you. All of you.”

“Even the ugly?”

“I told you, no story is ugly. You were honest and that’s beautiful to me. I’m not going to lie; it wasn’t easy to watch that video, especially hearing you talk about Kyla. But I’m sure it was even harder to film it and I’m glad you trusted me enough to do it. I’m not judging you for your past any more than you judged me for mine when I told you about Derrick.”

I’m stunned by the comparison because I seriously never would have made it. She was the victim. I was the villain.

“What happened to you wasn’t your fault,” I tell her earnestly. “This is your daily reminder. You aren’t to blame.”

“And you aren’t the only one to blame for what happened to you. It took three of you to make the mess you got yourselves into. More if you include the faceless leaches in your entourage, and I do.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“I know, but I do.” She smiles sweetly. “And I’m going to remind you of it every day until you do too. We’ll remind each other that we’re better than we think and hopefully someday with each other’s help, we’ll see ourselves in a better light than we do right now.”

My body is showered in a rain of relief as she talks about the future. One where there’s an us. One where I’ve got a shot at redeeming myself. Where I’m allowed to protect her like she’s mine because she is. And I’m hers.

But if that’s true, then why is she packed?

I look to her bag by the bed. “It looks like you’re leaving.”

Her smile falters but she doesn’t look away. “I am. Travis is coming to get me in an hour.”

“Are you going to stay at his place?”

“I’m going to Foxborough.”

I scowl, my blood rising. “Where Derrick is living?”

“Not anymore he’s not. Travis works fast. After I texted him last night he got in touch with our contact at the NFL network. They got the landlord of the apartment they’re renting for Derrick to open it up and let the guys on the crew there empty it into a container. It’s been taken to a storage facility somewhere. He has thirty days to clear it out before it all goes to auction.”

“If that’s all taken care of, why are you going there?”

“I’m taking over Derrick’s job. Travis will take over mine as director here in L.A. I’m going to live and work in Foxborough with the Patriots for the rest of the season.” She hesitates, biting the corner of her lip. “I leave this afternoon.”

“So we do what?” I ask tightly, trying to be cool about it. “We wait until this season is over and you don’t have a conflict anymore? We’re pen pals? I’m not saying I won’t wait for you, Harper, but shit, the season isn’t over for another three months. Four if we make the Super bowl.”

“With editing, we’re six months away from the end of my contract.”

“Shit,” I repeat miserably.

“The Kodiaks play the Patriots two weeks from now,” she reasons, almost pleading. “Give me those two weeks to get things sorted out over there. I’ll have to go through all of Derrick’s footage to get a grasp of where they’re at. I have to meet the team and the coaches and the staff. I have to get a sense of their dynamic, of where they are mentally and emotionally. It’s a lot to take on and I need this time to get myself immersed in it. Can you give me that long?”

I blink down at her, lost. “Until what? I don’t know what you’re asking me.”

“I’m asking you to give me two weeks before we go public about us.”

I stare at her, searching her face. Her eyes that burn bright and beseeching. “I thought you couldn’t while this job was going on.”