CHAPTER NINETEEN
BLAKE
I haven’t left the apartment for days, haven’t seen Coach or Tia, much less the world. No, fuck it. Fuck everything. I had it all. I was this close to the Olympics, to making something of myself, and what did I do? I fucked it up. But Olympics don’t even matter, though. I had Tia and I fucked that up too. I ruined the best thing to ever happen in my life, and what now? What the fuck do I do now?
“For you, asshole.” Billy tosses my cell across the room. I catch it, vibrating, in my hand.
Tia, I think, hopeful.
I answer. “Tia?”
“Mr. Johnson?” comes a stranger’s voice.
“Yes,” I reply with caution.
“Mr. Blake Johnson?”
“Yes.” Who the hell is this?
“My name is Gregory Rickman. I represent Morgan & Morgan.”
“Morgan & Morgan?”
Billy’s watching me, arms crossed.
“We’ve been trying to reach your brother too, a Mr. Billy Johnson?”
“Yes, that’s my brother. I’m sorry, what are you calling about?”
“Forgive me, Mr. Johnson. I’m a lawyer.”
Shit. I run through what I could have possibly done now. “Have I been charged with something?”
Awkward laughter. “No, no, Mr. Johnson, nothing like that.”
Being called ‘Mr. Johnson’ is starting to freak me out.
“You’ve recently turned twenty-one, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s about your Aunt Linda, Mr. Johnson.”
Aunt Linda? I’ve never heard of her. As far as I was aware, we had no living family. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, sorry.”
“Yes, I’m quite aware it may come as a shock, Mr. Johnson, but she knew about you and your brother, which is why I’m going to need you to come down to our offices. I can explain it in more detail there.”
“Can’t you tell me what this is about?”
Billy’s watching with increasing suspicion. “Does she want to meet us or something?”
“She has passed, Mr. Johnson, which is why I’m calling, but please, come down and we can talk it over.”
I’m trying to wrap my head around what’s going on as I take the address and number.
I hang up.
Billy looks at me. “What the fuck was that all about?”
I look down at the phone, but only my shadowy face stares back. “I have no fucking idea.”
*
Billy and I stand out the front of the towering skyscraper downtown home to Morgan & Morgan and probably all manner of upper-echelon companies we peasants know nothing about. This is not our world, that’s for fucking sure.
“I need a moment.” Billy sits with his hands on his head. “Is this a dream? Am I dreaming this?”
I kick him in the shin. “How’s that feel?”
He gives me the finger. “I mean, I heard that figure right, didn’t I? It wasn’t missing a decimal place or something?”
I take a seat too, looking out over the park opposite the tower. It reminds me of the main park in Millertown, at least before it was filled with addicts and hypodermic needles. “You heard right.” Fucking Aunty Linda. We’re rich, fifty-fifty split. Can’t even thank her.
“Why didn’t she try to get in touch with us when she was alive? Why all this now, when she’s dead?”
I shrug. “Who knows? Maybe she hated kids, didn’t want to take us on. Hell, I wouldn’t have wanted us back then either. I mean, what on earth are we going to do with all that money?”
I see Billy’s grin. “Don’t tell me you’re going to go out and blow it all on hookers and cars?”
“Damn, since when did you become the responsible one?” He pokes me in the stomach. “Tia been messing around in there, making you all Stay Puft and marshmallowy?”
Tia—How will this news affect her, us? I don’t know. I don’t think it will, truthfully. Money’s great, but money alone won’t get me to the Olympics. It will sure as fuck help, especially now that I don’t have Carver’s backing, but I haven’t qualified yet. And Tia? I don’t have her back, but I will. When I do, when we’re together again, she won’t want for anything. That’s if I can put things right with Coach first. I can’t be with her until I have his blessing, hard as that may be to come by.
I wave down a cab. “I’ve got to go. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
Billy stands. “Me? Stupid? Never.”
*
I’d rather peel my skin off than do this, but it has to be done.
He sees me coming and straightens up. “You’ve got some fucking balls, son. How’d you get in here?”
Cutter and Magnus poke their heads out of the water. At least I’ve got witnesses. Still doesn’t stop the old man trying to swing at me when I get close enough.
I dodge the first punch, but he manages to get me hard in the ribs with the second.
He goes again, but I put my hands out and stand back. “Just listen, okay?”
“It better be real good because I’m more than damn ready to turn this pool into a bloodbath.”
“I know you put your trust in me. I know I betrayed that trust, and I am sorry, truly sorry, but Tia means everything to me.”
He turns and laughs, voice booming off the roof. “Are you for real? You couldn’t keep your hands off a pretty girl if you tried, but my daughter? She’s off limits. I thought that was clear. I don’t care what kind of voodoo magic wool you’ve pulled over her eyes. You are not fooling me.”
“I’m not trying to fool her, or you, or anyone. I’ve never felt like this about any girl before. I’ll say it again. I love her.”
I’m extremely conscious of the others watch me basically dump my testosterone all over the floor.
Coach starts to run forward. “That’s fucking it.”
Cutter comes out the water and gets between us, holding Coach back. “He’s speaking truth, Coach. I haven’t seen him like this before. It’s like some damn bloodsuckers got into his brain, rewired it or some shit. It’s freaky.”
Cutter, the poet.
Coach pushes him off. “What’s it going to take to get you to back off? Money?”
Not anymore. “Don’t be like that.”
“You want to make me look like a fool, make Tia look like a fool?”
“I’m not going to hurt her. I would never hurt her.”
Coach laughs. “I smell bullshit, son. You know, I was like you once. Couldn’t keep my cock out of places where it didn’t belong, and you know where it got me?”
I play along. “Where?”
“Into a shitload of trouble. How do you think I ended up in the Navy in the first place?”
“Sir,” I begin, going for respect, “I want to be with your daughter. What do I have to do to make this okay?”
“I know your reputation, how you spend more time working out that dick of yours than putting in laps. You’re not going to be the best with distraction—any kind of distraction—pulling you back, Tia included.”
“Don’t you want her to be happy? Doesn’t she deserve it?”
“Be honest now, son. Will she really be happy with you?”
I keep quiet. He’s got a point, but I know I can do this. I know I can make it work. I’ve never been so certain about anything in my life.
He shakes his head. “Ah hell, you’re not going to let this go, are you?”
I stand to attention. “No, sir.”
“Johnson, you fucking prick,” but he’s smiling. I’m getting through.
He throws his hands up. “Fuck me with a blunt butter knife and call me Bobby, if she’s going to be with anyone, why not you, I suppose.”
“So I have your blessing?”
He spits onto the tiles. “Hell, no, not yet.”
“What do I have to do? Tell me and it’s done.”
He looks to the pool. “Fifty laps for a start.”
“But I didn’t bring my suit?”
He smiles harder. “Ain’t that a crying shame.”
*
Swimming naked in front of the squad boys was never going to be a problem. It isn’t the first time I’ve been in my birthday suit in this pool, not that I’m about to tell Coach the last time was with Tia.
But no, he wasn’t going to make this easy. Coach calls the female squad in, lets them have a nice, long gander at me doing laps back and forth. Far from being embarrassed, I embrace it, even switch to backstroke for a while so everyone could get a nice long look at me… or it, rather.
Coach comes to the end of the lane. “Jesus, that’s enough. I’m going to need eye bleach if I have to look at your dick much more.” He blows his whistle and shoos the female squad members away, all of whom go off giggling and huddled.
I lift myself up to the edge smiling.
He crouches down before me, lowering his voice. “I’m not going to come between you, son. I don’t even know if I have a right I’ve been such a shitty father, but you fuck her over, you bring one tear to her eye, and…”
I nod. “I understand.”
He stands. “Good. Now for fuck’s sake put on some clothes.” He taps the side of his head. “Thanks to that display I’ve got enough nightmare material stored up here to last me a lifetime.”
*
Cutter stands next to me in the showers. “Quite a show there, superstar.”
I take the soap. “Thanks.”
“But groveling to the old man? Serious pussy move.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
He starts to lather his mohawk back into position. “I thought you were expelled, anyhow. You shouldn’t even be here.”
He’s right. Coach let my presence here slide today, but I won’t be back on campus. I’m expelled.
I look around, can only spot Magnus’s soaped-up ass peeking out through the steam. “Where’s Ethan?” I’d almost forgotten about him.
Cutter slaps a handful of lather under his arms. “He hasn’t been at training for days. MIA, man.”
Fucking Ethan. MIA or not, he can’t be far. He needs to pay for what he put Tia and me through.
Cutter turns to me. “Don’t do what I think you’re going to.”
“And what’s that?”
“You seen those biker boys chasing after him? Ethan’s in a fuckload of debt, man, sold them short on his dealing. He can’t exactly go to his parents for help. I heard they cut him off. He’s on something, too. I don’t know what, but it’s screwing with his head. He’s fucking dangerous, man. Keep clear.”
“He still needs to pay.”
Cutter reaches for the taps, twisting them off. “Whatever. I’m going riding. Need to hit the trails and blow off some steam.”
I shake my head. Fucking Cutter and his dirt bike. “One of these days you’re going to fuck yourself up on that crotch rocket of yours.”
He smiles, that cheeky smile only Cutter can get away with. “Carpe diem, brother. Carpe diem.”
I watch him go, everything a little clearer now.
I remember Ethan’s words when I first joined the squad: “We share everything.”
Not anymore.
I head back to apartment as quick as I can. I wanna find Tia and tell her about my talk with Coach, beg for forgiveness if I have to, but my smile fades fast when I see a group of police cars out the front of our apartment building. Clearly they’re not here for dear old Mrs. McGregor up in Number Twelve.
I take the stairs fast, pushing past a cop and through the doorway of our apartment. It’s swarming with police. I expect to find Billy there, but Tia’s presence is a surprise.
She came for you.
They both stand quietly against the wall.
“What the hell’s going on?” I ask, addressing no-one in particular.
One of the cops with a few extra lines on his lapels hands me a notice. “Warrant to search the premises.”
“For what?” I exclaim, “missing doughnuts?”
It doesn’t go down well. He grabs my hands and spins me around, cuffing me and heaving me against the wall. “Why don’t you calm down a bit? Let my men work.”
Another ten minutes staring down the wallpaper and the weight on my wrists eases, the cuffs let off and the cop in charge gives the signal for everyone to clear out.
I rub my wrists, looking at Billy and Tia who still remain quiet and clueless. “Well,” I ask aloud, “find anything?”
Silence.
The place looks like a grenade went off. “You going to clean this shit up or what?”
“Good day,” comes the reply, the door closing. I watch the patrol cars leave one by one out the window.
I look to Billy first. “What the fuck was that all about?”
He fishes in his pants, pulling out a large bag of white powder taped tight. “This, I imagine.”
I run over and push it down. “What the fuck, Billy?! You’re stashing that shit here, in our home? Where the fuck did you even get it?”
Tia remains silent, emerald eyes wide. I think she’s in shock. She’s probably never had a speeding ticket.
Billy shoves the package into my chest. “It’s not mine, asshole.”
I shove it back. “Well, it sure as fuck isn’t mine either,” I look to Tia, “and it’s definitely not hers. Right?”
“Right,” she says, weak.
Billy holds the package with one hand. He doesn’t question me. He knows I’m telling the truth. “If it’s not mine, and it’s not yours, who the fuck does it belong to?”
I look out the window again, but the cops are long gone. It’s been a long time since I dealt with the law. I thought I put that all behind me. I look back to Billy. “Where did you find it?”
He points to the sofa. “I was fishing for a Pringle down the side. I reached under the cushion and, bam, there it was. Not more than a minute later I heard the cops pulling up. We’re fucking lucky. The cops went straight for the sofa. They knew exactly where to look.”
I pace around the apartment. “So someone tipped them off?”
Billy nods. “Makes sense, but why? Someone trying to set you up, bro? Put you away?”
It’s perhaps the most sense-filled conclusion he’s ever come to.
“Blake.” Tia reaches for me, and it’s so good having her back. We don’t speak, we don’t have to talk about it. We’re simply together again, right then. Everything else is forgotten because we know, deep down, we should be together. I reach down and cup her face, kissing her and pulling her tight.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, and I mean every word.
“I know,” she says. “I know.”
“Flush that shit,” I tell Billy, “quick as you can.”
Tia’s shaking like a leaf under my arm. She’s strong, but this has really rattled her.
“Stay with your dad tonight, okay?”
“Blake?”
“It’s fine. I’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise, but I don’t want you caught in the middle.”
“Someone wants to hurt you, Blake,” she says, hand gripping my arm tight, “real bad.”
“I know.” And it’s true. I know it’s fucking Ethan. Who else could it be? He wants to put me away, fine, but he got my brother and Tia mixed up in this little war. If he thinks he’s going to make me disappear, take my spot at the Games, he’s got another thing coming. They might call me Goliath, but I don’t go down that easy.
Tia places her hand on my chest. “What are you going to do?”
I look out to Carver in the distance. “Make a house call to my number-one fan.”
*
I don’t have to look far. I find him making his way out of the dorms. I hit him hard and fast from the back, don’t give a fuck who’s around to see this. Let them. I’m not a student anymore.
Ethan twists below me. “What the fuck?”
As soon as I see his face, I go to work—jab, right, left, jab—pummeling my fists into his face.
He manages to get a leg under me and flips me off, dragging me across the dirt and hitting me hard in the side of the head. My ear goes numb, ringing and hot. I thrust my elbow forwards and feel it connect with his chest.
I spin up and dive on him again, holding him by the hair and lifting my fist back. It hovers there, his face bloody and beaten before me. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end you right now?”
He laughs, blood and spittle dribbling from his lips, eyes red. “Blake Johnson, king of the pool, with your fucking bravado and alpha bullshit. Go ahead.”
I look around. People are keeping their distance, refusing to intervene.
“Everyone’s watching,” he continues. “Fucking do it, pussy.”
“Why?” I ask simply, pulling his hair tighter. “Why did you do it?”
“Because you don’t deserve it, that’s why.”
I shake his head. “Deserve what?”
“The Games, the glory, her. None of it. You came from shit and you’ll always be shit.”
I let his hair go and get off him. “And I guess you’re entitled to it all because what, you’re a Knight?”
He laughs, coughing. “Fuck you. This isn’t over. We’re brothers, remember? One and the same.”
I turn. “We are not brothers. A fucking disgrace is what you are, to the sport, to Coach, to yourself.”
I start walking away, ignoring the voice telling me to go back and crush his skull in, but no. He’s not worth it. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.
“I’m not done with you,” he calls, laughing. “I’m not done at all.”