Playing with Fire - A Sports Romance (14 page)

A fireman is carrying a bundle over his shoulder, and the medics help him lower the body down onto a stretcher. There are too many people blocking my view. I can't see who it is, but I know, without a doubt, it’s her.

The officer I first spoke to strides over to a medic I hadn't realized was still at my side. They talk in hushed tones, then turn and look back at me. The officer comes over and kneels down in front of me.

“They found her,” he says as he places his thick hand on my shoulder. “She’s unconscious, but breathing. You want to ride to the hospital with her?”

I'm not sure what I said and I'm not sure what happened next. I find myself sitting in the back of an ambulance, the thick wool blanket hanging off my shoulders as I watch the medics hovering over my angel. Her skin has black smudges all over and there’s a bandage around her left hand. I catch a glimpse of her lips - they look blue and so dry they might crack - before one of the medics places something over her face and starts pumping the large plastic bubble attached to it.

I don't know what they’re doing to her. There’s too much to take in, too much I can't understand. Suddenly we’re stopped and the back doors to the ambulance are thrown open. People are yelling. I'm dragged out of the vehicle and swept away into the hospital. I struggle to keep my eyes on Frankie, but I'm pulled behind a curtain and forced to sit on a bed as a nurse starts checking my vitals and asking me questions. I can’t concentrate on what she’s saying. She helps me sit back on the bed and I think I pass out, because when I wake up, all the noises that were going on around me have quieted and I have an IV in my arm.

I look around the small, curtained-off section of the room I'm lying in and find a familiar face. The officer from before is sitting there in a chair against the wall, scrolling on his cell phone. He looks up before I can speak and sees me. His eyes light up, and he forces his girth out of the chair and approaches my bed.

“Mr. Lucas, I'm glad to see you're okay.”

“Where’s Frankie?” I ask as I try to push myself up to a sitting position.

“Stay calm, sir. She’s fine. Thanks to you. She’s got a room upstairs.”

I plop back against the bed. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles a sad smile. “I came to check on you. My shift was over, and I wanted to make sure the two of you were okay.”

He pushes a button on the side of the bed, and there’s a loud beep before a woman’s voice comes out of a speaker near my head.

“Mr. Lucas is awake now,” the officer says.

“We’ll send someone right in.”

It takes a while for the nurses to check me over and even longer for them to produce the discharge papers. Once they’re done, the officer, Linden, takes me up to Frankie’s room.

She’s lying on a hospital bed, her golden hair fanned out around her face and a light blue blanket pulled up to her shoulders. She’s got a thin tube under her nose, but her color is better - skin the beautiful peach color I love, lips full and pink. She’s asleep, but the heart monitor is beeping, telling me she’s alive.

She’s alive!

* * *

I
sit
and watch Frankie the rest of the night. I only let go of her hand when the nurses need me to move so they can check her over. I texted Mitch sometime around six and let him know what happened - that Frankie was okay and I went into shock and passed out for an hour, which is why I hadn't let him know earlier. He promised to stop by later in the day to visit.

There are a million things that need to be done. I need to contact the coach and let him know what happened to me. The doctors advised me not to play ball for the next couple days, although they kidded they didn't want to say that to me, seeing how I won the game the night before. I also need to contact Frankie's family. Mitch and I both agreed that was one thing neither of us wanted to do.

In the end, though, it didn't matter. Mitch’s call to Vivian threw up red flags, and the girl went crazy. By the time I texted him to let him know what happened, she’d called him a couple dozen times looking for an answer. It wasn't long after Frankie woke up that her worst nightmare played out right in front of me.

“Who the fuck are you?” I recognize the man who barges into the room. With a dark grey suit and thick, black, slicked-back hair, he looks the part of an Italian mobster. While I’ve got a good half foot on him, his broad shoulders and thick neck make him an opposing figure. I pray hospital security checked him before he entered the building, because I can see him shooting first and asking questions later.

Frankie’s grip on my hand tightens, and I begin to worry she’ll end my baseball career before Marco gets a chance.

“Don't start, Marco.” Frankie's voice is quiet and rough, and those three words are enough to make her hack up a lung. Before she stops, I'm on my feet, and she’s yanking my arm so hard I nearly collapse on top of her.

“Don't you tell me what to do!” He points his finger at her as his face turns bright red. “I had to hear from Vivian that something happened to you, and when I finally track you down, I find you with this… this…”

Marco starts coming at me, and Frankie scrambles out of bed to stand in front of me. Wires start flying and machines beep wildly as she presses her bare back against me. I’d appreciate it if I weren't scared out of my mind.

“Don't you dare touch him,” she rasps out. “Isn't it enough you almost killed me, setting his apartment on fire?”

Marco stops in his place as a couple nurses come running into the room. “I never—”

“Liar!” Frankie says, but the word breaks in the middle and gets lost on another cough. Her body starts to sag and I grab her around the waist to keep her from falling to the floor.

The nurses are looking around the room, anxiety written across their faces. Once Frankie starts to fall, the one closest to us rushes forward with her hands raised in front of her.

“Ma’am, is everything okay here?” Frankie nods as she clings to me, and the nurse’s shoulders drop a couple inches. “I need you to get back in bed, and everyone needs to calm down or I'll call security and have them escort you both out.”

The woman glares at Marco and me even as I help Frankie back under the covers. She clings to me as she coughs like a chain smoker. The nurses go to work replacing the wires and getting her calmed and settled back in. The entire time, Marco is staring daggers at me.

When the nurses leave, Frankie points her finger at Marco and starts right where she left off. “Liar!” she yell-whispers, her voice rasping in her throat.

“I would never hurt you!” Marco counters.

“No, just every person I've ever tried to get close to. Don't you dare deny it, Marco. I should call the police right now and tell them it was you who set the fire.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Tesoro. I would never do such a thing.”

“No, you’d have your people do it for you. Like you did to Carson’s place my freshman year.” Marco pushes a thick hand through his slicked-back hair and pulls his eyes away from his niece. “Did you think I wouldn't find out, Marco? You have ruined every relationship I've ever had. You're so worried I'll end up like my mother that you have refused to allow me to live my own life.”

“Frankie—”

“Get out, Marco. I don't ever want to see you again. And I swear on my mother’s grave, if you so much as raise a finger against Corey, I promise you I will go straight to the cops and let them know all your dirty little secrets. Do you understand?”

“Frankie—”

“Get out!” She points her finger to the door. Her whole arm is shaking. When Marco doesn't move, Frankie reaches for the call button on the bed.

“Wait!” Marco holds his hands out in front of him and lets out a long, low sigh. “I’ll go.”

F
rankie

F
our of the
apartments on Corey’s floor and two on the floor below had to be gutted after the fire. Corey’s apartment and one of his neighbor’s suffered the worst damage. At least the fire department deemed the building safe enough for some of the residents to move back in, as water damage was limited to the upper floors. Corey was essentially homeless. But not for long.

It made sense for him to stay with me. I had basically been living with him before the fire, and I only stayed at the hotel when he was away. In fact, I lost a good chunk of my wardrobe in the blaze. I didn’t care. I was alive. Corey was alive. As long as we were together, we’d be okay. I could buy us new clothes. I could buy us new things. I didn’t need anything but him.

In fact, I was perfectly happy not wearing any clothes at all when I was with him.

It took a couple days for me to start feeling well enough to move around a lot. The hospital kept me under observation for a night, then released me into Corey’s care. Since he wasn’t allowed to play or even practice and he’d lost his home, the coaches gave him a few days off to take care of things.

I missed sex with him. Corey insisted on following the doctor’s orders and keeping me from doing anything too strenuous. I’d inhaled a lot of smoke and burned my hand on the doorknob as I tried to escape, so I needed to heal. He wouldn’t let me touch him. He even refused to make love to me for a few days. Only his hands and tongue gave me what I wanted as he made me lie there in our bed and accept what he had to offer.

Between Marco, Vivian, and Vinny, I thought for sure my phone would blow up from overuse. They called constantly. Most of the time, I hid my phone deep in my dresser drawer, underneath a pile of out-of-season clothes I had yet to bring back to Marco’s. At first it was mostly Marco. But when I refused to answer his calls, Vivian and Vinny called more often.

It wasn’t fair Vinny got the goods on Corey. Corey's sister knew how to play him, and she got more information out of him for Vinny than Vinny could for himself.

“I’m fine, Jen,” Corey says into his phone. He’s stretched out on his side of our bed next to me, and I’m running my fingertips up and down his bare chest. “I wasn’t in the building, remember? It was Frankie who was there.”

Corey leans forward and accepts a kiss from me while he listens to his little sister speak.

“Yes, Vinny’s cousin, Frankie. And yes, we’re together. I’ve told you this, Jen. Oh, and Frankie’s fine, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

Corey laughs and falls over on his back, his phone still at his ear. I climb on top of him, straddling his legs, and his eyes go wide when I strip my tank top off. He mumbles something into the phone as I start kissing his chest and he slides his hand through my hair. His hips rise off the bed to greet me, and I reach for the button on his pants.

A knock on the door freezes me in my place.

“Uh, Jen, someone’s here. I gotta go.” Corey doesn’t wait for a response. He hits end and tosses the phone on the bed. “Stay here,” he says as he rolls me off of him and goes towards the door.

I throw my tank top back on and slide back against the headboard as I watch him look out the peephole. He’s been cautious since we left the hospital. I’d say overly cautious, but for reasons I can’t explain, I don’t exactly feel safe. Corey’s shoulders drop as he reaches for the doorknob.

“Hey man, I hope it’s not a bad time.” I recognize the man’s voice in an instant. I don’t even have to see the bandaged arm under the black t-shirt as Corey shakes his hand and steps back, letting him enter. “Hey, darlin’.” Mitch comes into the room with a gorgeous smile on his face.

“Hey, Mitch.”

“I found this in the hallway. I hope you don’t mind.” He motions behind him, and I force myself not to grimace when Vivian steps into the room. She stands there in the doorway, one foot in and one foot out. I think she’s afraid I’ll tell her to leave. Even Mitch and Corey are looking at me like they’re unsure.

“You can come in, Viv,” I tell her. I grab my glass of water off the table beside the bed and try to take a drink without spilling. My hands are shaking again - something that’s been happening to me every time I even think about Marco.

Vivian watches me like a hawk as she follows Mitch into the room. He takes a seat at the table by the window, the floor lamp in the corner burning down upon his back. But she stands at the foot of the bed, staring while she chews on the corner of her lip. It’s not until Corey settles on the bed next to me and puts his arm around my shoulders that the uncertainty drops from her face.

“I can’t believe it,” she says. She smirks and shakes her head. “Corey Lucas and Frankie Sarcone. I never would have guessed. Is this Luke, then?”

Corey squeezes me into his side and kisses my temple. I nod and lean into him.

“Why the hell do you call him Luke?”

Corey laughs by my side.

“There was a slight misunderstanding when we first met,” I tell her. At my words, Mitch starts to chuckle. Of course, he knows everything.

After the guys settle down, Vivian drops her eyes to the floor, then looks up at me with a furrowed brow. The uncertainty, the anguish - they do nothing to distract from her beauty. It makes me feel small, knowing she can have anything she wants and I have to fight for the one thing I need.

“I know you probably don’t want me here. You probably think I said something to Daddy. But I swear to God, I didn’t.”

The trembling in my hands starts again and Corey squeezes me closer.

“I’m not here to plead his case, Frankie. But he swears he didn’t start the fire. He swears he didn’t know anything about…” she pauses and looks at the love of my life. “About Corey. He swears it on your mother’s grave.”

I’m tempted not to believe her. But I know Marco. He would never in a million years swear on my mother’s grave if it weren’t the truth. His baby sister meant more to him than anything, and her loss gutted him.

“Is he ready to accept I’m old enough to choose who I want to be with? Will he stop trying to push away every person in my life I care about?” I motion with both hands, to Corey, to Mitch. Beyond my family, they are all I have.

“I don’t know, sweetie. You know how he is. He wants to talk to you. He wants you to come home. He doesn’t think you’re safe here.”

“You can tell him my home was burned down, with me inside it. I’m not going to live with him. He needs to accept me the way I am, with Corey, with Mitch as my friend, if he ever wants to see me again. You know I don’t need his money.”

“I know. And he does, too.” Vivian takes a step closer to the bed. “I’m done talking about him, Frankie. I came here because I miss you. I was worried about you. When Mitch called looking for you, I freaked out. I went from thinking you’d been kidnapped to thinking you were dead. And with you ignoring my calls, it feels like I’m being punished for something I didn’t do.”

A tear threatens to fall from her eye, and it tears into me. Vivian never cries. She eats nails for breakfast and turns it into steel beams by lunch. I get up and crawl across the bed towards her. She throws her arms around me and I hug her back. After a minute, she pulls back and holds me at arm’s length.

“I’m sorry for everything, Frankie. I’m sorry if you felt you couldn’t tell me what was going on in your life. I’ll do whatever you need me to do so you understand I’m on your side.”

I nod and she releases me. As I return to Corey’s side, she takes a seat next to Mitch.

“What happened to you?” Vivian asks as she fingers the bandage on Mitch’s left bicep.

“Oh no,” I say under my breath. Corey glances down at me with one eyebrow raised.

“New ink,” Mitch tells her. He turns his other shoulder to her and points to the new tattoo he got a couple days ago. “It’ll match this.”

Vivian hums as she drags her finger against the black, jagged swirls on his skin. She pulls up the sleeve of his t-shirt, tracing a couple inches up. “Very nice. Do you have a lot of tattoos?”

“Just this one,” Mitch tells her. His grin throws me. He’s flirting with her. He’s never shown interest in her before.

“One?” Vivian’s eyes flash up to the black lines at the soft spot at his throat before raking down his body. I assume she’s remembering what I told her - his tattoo ends at his ankles. The swirls start under his hairline and snake down his back, wrapping around to tickle his abs above his hips. The towel he wore after his shower hid his butt and thighs from my view, but the same black lines inched down his calves to his ankles. His new ink will eventually end at his fingers when it’s done.

“Vivian, how’s Vinny?” I ask, desperate to get her attention off my friend. When she rips her eyes from Mitch’s body and looks at me, I can see she knows she’s stepping over the line. With her history of ruining men, she knows better than to mess with him.

“He’s good. He misses you. I mean, as much as he can when he spends all his time with Jen.”

Corey tenses beside me, and I laugh and reach up to plant a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“Don't worry, Vinny knows how to take care of a lady,” I tell him.

“That’s what concerns me.”

“If it’s Daddy you’re worried about, just know he’s very indulgent of Vinny when it comes to love. Especially when my brother is as serious as he is about Jen.”

“Serious?” Corey questions, leaning forward. “How serious?”

Vivian looks like she swallowed something wrong. “You don't know?”

“Know what, Viv?”

My cousin looks between me and Corey for a moment, then swallows hard. “Daddy asked her to invite her family to the house.”

“Shit,” Corey says as he sits back against the headboard.

“Yeah, shit,” Vivian says. “I can't believe they didn't tell you.”

“Don't worry, baby, we’ll figure something out,” I tell Corey. I cuddle closer to him, tucking my legs up so I'm nearly in his lap.

“Enough talk about Daddy,” Vivian says. “I want to know what I’ve been missing out on. What have you three been doing the past couple months? I don't feel like I know anything anymore.”

With Vivian’s topic change, our conversation gets lighter. Mitch, Corey, and I explain how we all met that fateful night downstairs at Riverside. Vivian swoons when Corey tells her about his declaration of love on top of the Empire State Building, and Mitch tells us tales of the strange things he’s seen as a bartender. Because I'm still healing, Corey doesn't want me to leave the room. We order in Chinese food and talk until the sun goes down.

My heart is full tonight. With my lover, my best friend, and my cousin with me, I couldn't imagine needing anything else.

* * *

“
I
think
they like each other,” Corey tells me after we’ve cleaned up the mess from supper and Mitch and Vivian have left. He settles onto the bed beside me and I lay my head on his bare chest.

“That's what I'm afraid of,” I mumble.

“She’s a big girl, Frankie. She can take care of herself.”

“It’s not Viv I'm worried about,” I tell him.

“Mitch was in the Marines, doll. I'm pretty sure he can handle Vivian.”

“You don't know my cousin.” I grin up at him and he takes the opportunity to kiss me. When he pulls away, I settle back onto his chest and say, “I'm not ready for you to go back to playing.”

“I know. I feel like we need a bodyguard for you.”

“Really?”

Corey runs his fingers through my hair, trailing them along my neck and down my back. “You mean everything to me. I want you to be safe.”

“Maybe we can get Mitch to come with us next week when we travel.”

“We?” Corey's surprise has me turning to face him again.

“I don't want to be without you. I’ll pay my own way, fly commercial if I have to.”

“I don't want you flying alone.”

“Then I’ll ask Mitch to come.”

Corey smiles and shakes his head. “You think he’s going to quit his job so he can follow you around?”

“I’ll pay him.”

“That’s a lot of money, Frankie.”

I lean up on my elbow and look into Corey’s eyes. The deep blue is calming, and it makes me feel safe. I've been keeping secrets from him, though, and my guilt makes me break eye contact. I trace my finger over the peaks and valleys on his stomach.

“I have more money than I know what to do with.”

Corey's silent for a moment before he asks, “Isn't that Marco’s money, though?”

“No. I have more money than Marco does.”

He stops my hand with his. “What do you mean?”

I explain to him that Marco’s fortune was passed on to him by his father, my grandfather. When he died, half went to my grandmother, and half was split between Marco and my mother. My mother made one of the only wise decisions she’d ever made and entrusted someone to invest it for her. Marco made his own investments. The baseball team. The other companies he owns. While in the long run they paid off, it took a large amount of capital to make everything as profitable as they are today. And not everything panned out.

When my mother passed away, everything that was hers became mine. And since I was a minor, my grandmother put everything that wasn't already invested into a trust fund for me. She was a shrewd woman, and her investments flourished. Upon her death, half of her estate went to Marco, the other half went to me.