I’m at home, making myself some lunch, when my cell rings. I don’t recognize the number but decide to answer it. Maybe I’m hoping it’ll be Grayson, calling me from a different line. I haven’t heard anything from him since he asked me to leave his house last night.
“Hello?”
“Is this Melissa?”
“Depends who’s asking.”
“Tyler—Tyler Knight.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised.
He pauses for a moment before he speaks. “I was just calling because…I wanted to say thank you for bailing me out last night.”
“It’s fine.”
“Not many people would do that. You must care about my brother a lot.”
“I…” I only get one word out because I don’t really know how to answer that.
“I’m sorry about last night, with Grayson asking you to leave. He does appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“Okay.”
“He just…he thinks he’s protecting me.”
That gets my attention. “Protecting you from what?”
There’s a pause on the line. “Can we meet? I don’t want to talk over the phone.”
“Does Grayson know you’re calling me?” I ask. I don’t want to go behind his back on this…whatever it is that Tyler wants to talk about. But then, if it helps Grayson, maybe he should be left in the dark.
“No, he doesn’t know I’m calling. But I need help and there’s no one else I can ask.”
“You can ask Grayson, too. Talk to both him and me. Don’t you think that the three of us should approach this together?”
“No. I…look, I’m just gonna come out and say it. I’m in trouble and Grayson…well, he’s in trouble, too. But the thing is, he doesn’t know it. I really need your help, Melissa.”
“Okay,” I say.
“You’ll meet me?”
“There’s a coffee shop on Ninth. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you, Melissa.”
I grab my purse and head for the door, my stomach twisting in knots. It’s not that I don’t trust Tyler or think he’s out to hurt me. But he’s definitely involved in something with some dangerous people.
I make a ten-minute trek to the coffee shop. I’ve been to this place a few times before with Tori. They do the most amazing carrot cake. And I could really do with some cake right now.
When I get there, Tyler hasn’t arrived, so I take a seat near the window and order a coffee and a slice of my favorite dessert. The waitress brings over my order as Tyler pushes open the door. He looks harried and a little nervous. His eyes are darting everywhere. I lift a hand to get his attention. He spots me and comes over.
“Something to eat or drink?” the waitress asks Tyler.
“Just a black coffee,” he says.
“Is coffee a good idea?” I joke.
“What do you mean?” he asks as his gaze darts to mine. He takes his jacket off and hangs it on the back of the chair.
“You look on edge. Like you’ve already had a bucket of caffeine.”
“I need something hot.”
We sit in silence until his coffee arrives. “Thanks,” he says to the waitress when she puts it down in front of him.
“You sure you don’t want something to eat? The cake here is really great.” I cut a piece off with the fork and put it in my mouth.
“No, thanks,” he says.
“Okay, so we’re here. What did you want to talk about?” I put my fork down and pick up my coffee, blowing on it before taking a sip.
“What you said last night, at Grayson’s place…about the real possibility of him getting jail time for the drug possession? Was that true?”
I put my cup down and lean back in my seat, staring at him. “Yes. Grayson isn’t a drug user. The police took a look at the regular tests that athletes take. Grayson has taken these tests for the past twelve months, and since he’s always showed up as clean, a hundred percent of the time, the police know the drugs weren’t for personal use. And the amount he was carrying…well, even without the clean testing, they have enough evidence to pin an intent to distribute charge to him.”
“I didn’t know,” Tyler says as he shakes his head, putting his cup down and staring into it.
“Grayson is hanging by the skin of his teeth onto the life he’s living, and that’s only because the press hasn’t gotten wind of his arrest yet. The moment they do, his endorsements will go. He might still be allowed to play until his case goes to trial. But if he’s found guilty, the team will drop him. And it wouldn’t matter anyway, because if he goes to jail on the felony possession of the second degree charge, he’ll be too old to go back into the pros when he’s out, even if a team agrees to take him after he’s damaged his reputation this much.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“You knew how many drugs he had on him, and you had to know the police wouldn’t think it was for personal use.”
“But I thought with him being who he is…they’d just let it go.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Police and judges love to make examples out of famous names—sports celebrities especially. With my old boss on the case, there was no way Grayson was getting off clean from the moment they found the drugs on him.”
“But he said—”
“It was Grayson’s idea.”
He stares me in the eye. Then breaks contact and blows out a breath. “He won’t be happy I’m telling you this.”
“He’ll be less happy if he ends up living in a prison cell.”
“That night I was out with Grayson. I had that stash on me. I wasn’t actually selling yet. I would never do that around Grayson. But I was out and he called me—asked me to come meet him for a drink. So I went along for one. I was planning to leave and hit up some clubs after, sell the shit on me.”
“But the cops showed up?”
He nods. “I panicked and told Grayson I was carrying. I knew that if I got caught with the drugs, I was going down. Grayson told me to give them to him. That he wouldn’t get searched because of who he is. I followed his orders. But then they searched him and carted him off.” Tyler meets my stare and says, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. And now I’m totally screwed. We’re totally screwed.”
“You’re not screwed. All you have to do is tell the truth. I can help you.”
“You don’t understand,” he says, picking up his coffee and taking a big drink of it. “It’s gone further than that now.” He meets my eyes again. “You were right about what you said last night, about my bosses…not being happy. Shit.” Tyler covers his face with his hands.
“Calm down. Talk to me.”
He drops his hands and stares at me. “I got involved with the wrong people. The drugs…they’re cartel drugs. I’ve been dealing for the cartel.”
“Holy shit.” The words came out loud, so I adjust my voice down to a whisper. “You’re working for the cartel?”
Tyler nods. “The drugs that were seized from Grayson were part of my second run for them. I was supposed to sell them and bring back the money. But then Grayson was arrested. I didn’t want to ask him for the money to pay them on top of everything else. So, I…damnit. I stole some drugs from the stash, hoping they wouldn’t notice, so I could sell those to pay them the money I owed them.”
“You took drugs from the cartel and were planning to pay them back with that money you made off of stolen goods? What were you thinking?”
“Clearly I wasn’t!” he snaps. “I panicked. And now those drugs are gone, too, and I don’t have any money to pay them. And when I got home from Grayson’s late last night…my place had been shot up. And there was a note pinned to my wall…a warning. They knew I’d been arrested. They’re telling me to keep my mouth shut. I don’t think they know about Grayson’s arrest or the missing drugs yet, because if they did, then they wouldn’t have shot up my place as a message. There would have been someone waiting there with a bullet for my head.”
“I still can’t believe that you’re involved with the cartel,” I say, putting my elbows on the table, driving my fingers into my hair. This feels way out of my league.
“What do I do, Melissa? How do I fix this?”
I lift my stare to Tyler. I can see how afraid he is when he says, “I don’t want anything to happen to Grayson because of me.”
“Let me think about it. I’ll figure out what to do. But first I need to talk to your brother. He has to know what’s been going on with you.”
“No,” he says.
“Yes. I have to tell him everything—about the cartel and what happened to you last night. I don’t think it’s a good idea if you’re there when I tell him. I need to have Grayson thinking rationally, not trying to kill his little brother. Once I have him thinking straight, I’ll bring him around to talk to you.”
“What do I do while you do that?”
“Don’t go back to your place. Just in case the cartel wises up and comes looking for you. Do you have anywhere to go that they don’t know about?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I pull the keys to my apartment from my bag. “Go to my place. You’ll be safe there.” I give him my address. “Don’t call or speak to anyone. I’ll try to be as quick as I can with Grayson. Then I’ll come home and we’ll figure this out—the three of us. Don’t worry.”
I get up, hanging my bag on my shoulder.
As I walk past him, Tyler touches my shoulder. “Thanks—for everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when this is all over, when you and Grayson are safe.”