Thou Shalt Not (38 page)

“Oh, I was just pointing out that from a distance, you and April look like you could be related. I told him it was the eyes and hair.”

“But, we don’t look anything alike.”

“I know. I could have said whatever I wanted to him and he would have believed it. Plus, I just wanted to point to you both. April didn’t seem happy though. I’ll have to explain later, I guess.”

More winking, and then Holly was back to eating her food.

After thirty more seconds or so, April and Marco returned to their table. He seemed fine; she did not.

Dessert was brought out, and the coffee station was set up. I waited for the initial rush to die down, and then I went up to get coffee.

I had only been there for a few seconds when Marco spoke from behind me.

“This has been a great night,” he said.

I nodded.

“If we do one thing right at Lakefront, it’s that we eat well.”

I asked him if he wanted me to pour him a coffee, but he declined.

“There is something I would like, though,” he said.

I was hunched over my coffee, trying to perfect the cream and sugar ratio. Marco grabbed my elbow.

“And what might that be?” I said, not turning.

“I’m going to go out front to smoke,” he said. “And, I want someone to talk to.”

He let go of my elbow, and I turned toward him, coffee still on the table.

“And who better to join me,” he said, lowering his voice. “Than the man who is fucking my wife?”

We locked eyes, and I saw dancing fire in his. He could be charming and engaging and full of life, but now I could see in his eyes that the Marco who went nuts on teammates and coaches had finally shown up to the party.

I had known a moment like this would come. And I wasn’t going to back down.

“Just so long as you have enough smokes for two people,” I said, my focus on him not wavering.

He laughed, loudly.

“It seems I am sharing my wife with you,” he said. “So, I don’t see any harm in sharing my cigars.”

“Then, let’s go,” I said.

We walked out of the cabana, and I led him through Mark’s house to the front door. April had been talking to Mark’s wife Vanessa, and hadn’t seen us. Holly saw though. And I couldn’t read the look on her face.

She had mentioned that I could die that night, so her thoughts might have wandered to planning my funeral. I hope she was regretting turning down my last fuck offer.

When we reached the front yard, Marco asked me to wait while he went to his car.

He was either going to come back with cigars, or a machine gun and go Tony Montana on my ass.

Either way, I was ready to smoke or be smoked.

Marco was carrying a box as he returned to where I was standing. I had moved far enough away from the front windows so that whatever was going on wouldn’t be visible from the inside. Mark was most certainly not a fan of smoking.

“Only the finest,” Marco said, opening the box.

Inside were individually wrapped Cuban cigars. On top of them was one of those cigar cutters that looked like it could be used as a guillotine for lizards.

Two cigars were unwrapped, cut, and lit in less than a minute.

“Wow,” I said, breathing in the first bit of Cuban smoke.

I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between a Cuban cigar or a candy one, but I could tell Marco took great pride in them. So, it was amazing.

“Only the best,” he said.

We stood there for a few moments, inhaling and exhaling, neither of us saying a word.

I assumed he would say something when he was ready; I was too busy enjoying my first Cuban cigar.

In the 11th grade, my English class had a substitute teacher for a week. He had been an Amish looking fellow, but he had no problem casually swearing in front of all the students. None of us complained because we all liked him and weren’t used to having a teacher who wasn’t stuffy or crotchety. One day, he stopped in the middle of the lesson and said “Guys, there are three things in life you all need to do. One: go out of the country at least once. Two: drink expensive scotch. And three: smoke a Cuban cigar.”

Wherever you are, Mr. Albers, this puff is for you.

“So, Luke,” Marco finally said. “How long have you been sleeping with my wife?”

I thought about giving him a smartass answer like “I don’t believe I’ve ever said I slept with your wife.” But, I think he expected me to back down, to be afraid or to make excuses. That wasn’t going to happen.

“Since Monday night,” I said, as casually as I would tell someone my grocery list.

I could tell he didn’t expect a direct answer, but he oddly seemed to approve of my forthrightness.

“My agent, Phillip, takes many would-be clients to Bern’s. His motto is ‘Wine them, dine them, and hope to sign them.’ And Bern’s is the best place to do that.”

“It’s a great restaurant,” I said. “I was there just the other night.”

Marco obviously knew I had been there, no use beating around the bush. I was simply trying to stay one step ahead of him. And so far, it was working.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied. “Philip called to tell me that he was watching April have dinner with a man who was not me. I asked for a picture. He sent one.”

Because he had probably rehearsed this in his head, he pulled out his phone to show me the picture. I figured he probably would have used it as evidence if I had denied what he was accusing me of. But now, it was little more than show and tell.

He flipped through his phone to the picture and showed me.

“That’s a pretty clear picture,” I said. “No mistaking either of us.”

“No, there isn’t.”

Marco put the phone back in his pocket.

“She thinks I came up here to support her for this dinner. But I don’t care about this fucking little party. Or her job.”

“Or her. From the sound of things,” I said. It was risky to say that to a man in this situation. But, I did.

“Oh, did she tell you that?”

“Showed me too. She came over the night you hit her.”

“Really?” he said, actually laughing. “She told me she was out driving around.”

“Technically that was true.”

“I don’t make a habit of hitting my wife, Luke.”

“I tend to think once is too many times,” I said. “But I might believe you if I hadn’t followed your career all these years.”

He took in a long drag and exhaled a perfect ring. In any other situation, I would have expressed how impressed I was, and asked how he had done that.

“Because you’ve seen me get angry on the field, you think that means I abuse my wife?”

“It certainly seems to point to a problem with controlling your temper, yeah.”

“Do you have any idea,” he said, stepping closer to me and lowering his voice, “how much pussy I get because of the shit I do on the field? The ladies, they love it, man. I don’t have to ask them, they come to me. Everywhere I go. It’s fucking crazy.”

“If that’s true, then why fly all the way back here to confront me? You get it everywhere you go, and you worry she might be having an affair with someone, so you drop everything and fly home?”

“She’s mine,” he said, his voice deepening and becoming more aggressive. “No one takes her from me.”

His eyes were burning into mine. There was no doubt that Marco was now very serious.

At that moment, I heard a sound behind me and turned. It was April.

“What’s going on here?” she asked. I could sense fear. She still didn’t think Marco knew.

“Just having a chat with my new friend,” Marco said, patting me on the shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I think I’ll stay out here,” April said, taking a spot to my left and his right, between us, but not directly. “What are you talking about?” she asked. She was nervous.

“You need to go inside,” he said, again, this time more forcefully.

“I said, I think I’ll stay out here.”

Marco was getting more agitated.

“If you don’t go inside, I might end up hurting your little boy toy. And I don’t think you’d want that.”

The look on April’s face went from nervous tension to shock. She didn’t care that her husband had just threatened me. She only cared that he knew.

“How could you?” she said to me.

“I didn’t say anything, April. He already knew.”

Then, the fear was back in her eyes.

“Look honey, I can explain,” she said, turning back to Marco. “He started flirting with me and—”

“Shut up,” he said, backhanding her.

April fell backwards onto the grass.

Marco stepped toward me as I stepped toward April, hoping to shield her from any more blows. I hadn’t expected him to hit her. He did it with such speed and force.

“If you touch her again, I’ll kill you,” I said. “I told you, she’s mine,” he said, lunging toward me.

I pivoted backwards just in time and was able to push him away from me. Marco stumbled a little, but didn’t fall over.

“Stop it,” I heard her say loudly. But when I looked down at her, she wasn’t looking at Marco. April had been saying that to me.

“He just hit you,” I said, not thinking I would need to remind her.

“It was an accident,” she said, even though she was holding her cheek. “He wasn’t trying to hurt me.”

Marco was standing behind her now, and he put his arm around her.

“It was an accident,” she said again.

“Are you listening to yourself?” I said. “He just hit you. He’s hit you before. He will hit you again!”

Marco stepped in front of her, this time looking like he was protecting her from me.

“She’s mine,” he repeated. “You don’t get to have her.”

I knew men could be possessive, Latin men, in particular. I was. I knew macho men were kings of double-standards—”Do as I say, not as I do.” They could do whatever they wanted with any woman they wanted to, but if someone so much as looked at their wife a second too long, they’d want to pummel you. That was Marco.

And April. God, I knew she would never leave him. She had to have known he cheated on her. She obviously knew he was abusive with her. But, she would never leave. The lifestyle his career afforded was too much to let go. And, at the end of the day, he had been paid well for many years for all the stunts he pulled on the field. Everyone knew how he was. She knew. If she hadn’t already left him by this point, she never would.

I had just been a play-thing, a diversion. Someone to make her feel better about herself, to give her energy to endure more of her life with him. She would have continued if he hadn’t shown up. But, she became too afraid of what might happen if he found out. April lived a life of luxury, but she lived it in fear.

“I don’t want her, Marco,” I said. “I did. For a few days, at least. She is a special woman,” I said, looking right at her. ”But, I had someone the whole time who I already loved spending time with, who I couldn’t wait to see each day. She was right in front of me, and somehow I let myself lose sight of her. But that won’t ever happen again. I love someone, but it’s not April.”

I turned back toward the house, surprised the whole crew hadn’t come out to look for us. But, only one person was standing there. Holly.

She must have heard the whole thing.

“Let’s go,” I said, taking her hand in mine.

And we walked back to the party, where people were either eating dessert or busy cleaning up.

Mark loudly asked where I had been, saying I had missed out on some seriously good key lime pie.

“I was out front talking to the Batistas,” I said.

Before Mark could ask if they were coming back, Marco returned.

“I’m really sorry for having to do this,” he said. “But, April isn’t feeling well and I’m going to have to take her home.”

“Oh no,” Mark said. “Does she need anything? We’ve got stuff in our medicine cabinet. Come look.”

“No, thank you,” Marco said. “She’s already in the car. I should just get her home to rest.”

“Well, tell her we hope she feels better soon.”

Marco politely wished everyone a good night, turned toward me and Holly, and gave us a nod. Then he was gone.

Holly didn’t say a word until we got back in the car to leave.

“So you love me, huh?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You aren’t just saying that because of what I said the other night? Because that would seriously piss me the fuck off.”

“Holly, I love you. I love everything about you. Even your dirty mouth. Other men don’t get to date you anymore. I don’t want other men touching you. You’re mine. I get to kiss you and touch you and be inside you. I get to take you out on dates and bend you over picnic tables and come inside you. Yeah, Holly. I love you.”

She didn’t say anything for about thirty seconds.

“Well,” she finally said. “I can’t say that I blame you.”

I laughed. She raised her eyebrows.

“And I’m yours,” I said. “ And that means no one gets to have me but you. Only you.”

I didn’t bother asking Holly if she wanted me to drop her off at her house for the night. Holly was coming home with me.

Ten minutes later, we pulled into the driveway where April and Holly had met twenty-four hours earlier. It was amazing how much could transpire in a matter of a day. Hell, the last few weeks had more ups and downs than most people experience in a year.