Chapter 12 #2
There it was. I had been so engrossed in my work that I didn’t notice it. “Are you ready for your next game?” I’d change the subject. Then I could resist revealing what had just happened. I glanced at the door. But what if the asshole was fucking up my car?
“Sure am. I’ll be on it tonight. I won’t fuck up like last night.”
Had it been because of me? We hadn’t talked about it in our quick call last night. “Lucas, I hope what’s going on here isn’t causing problems for you.” I brushed my fingers over the edge of my keypad.
“Shit, I didn’t want to bring this up, but I want to be straight with you.” He let out a long exhale. “I have to admit, I was worried about you in the beginning. I can’t have my phone with me in the game and I was worried you might call or text—”
“Please, don’t worry about me, Lucas. The police are aware of the situation, and I think Tate got the message. Okay?” My chest squeezed. Lies, all fucking lies. Maybe I’d come clean with him when he got home? But then what would he think of me?
“Ezra, you’d tell me if he showed up, even with the order in place, right?”
I swallowed through a lump in my throat. “Of course,” I croaked. Fuck.
“Ezra?” His voice lifted. “I can take it.”
I inhaled deeply, gathering my strength. “I’d tell you.” My eyes stung. It was better for him if he didn’t know, even if I had to lie.
“Okay. Well, I’ll be home soon, and let me know if anything happens.”
“I will. Win your game tonight.” I forced a smile. “I’ll be watching.”
“Oh, we’ll win.” He chuckled. “Miss you.”
“Miss you too.” I swiped at my eyes. He didn’t deserve my fucked-up situation. “Bye.”
“Bye now.”
I hung up the call and swiveled to my desk. It was quiet for now, and I didn’t have time to deal with the cops. I’d keep editing, and if my car was damaged, then I’d call.
I’d successfully DoorDashed food to the studio for lunch and dinner without run-ins with Tate.
Maybe he’d finally given up. I sent off an email to Jessica, the Firebirds PR person I worked with, giving her access to a Google drive containing all the photos for the calendar.
Then I left the studio as night fell, orange and turquoise hues painting the sky.
The cooler night air whispered against my skin as I strolled to my car, my head on a swivel for any sign of Tate.
I stopped at my Volkswagen Jetta and my gaze caught on a note wedged under the wiper blade. He’d been here all right. No big surprise. I slid the note from under the wiper and opened it. Did I even want to read it? Tate’s handwriting scrolled across the paper.
Ezra,
I can’t understand why you so suddenly broke up with me.
What did I do wrong? Maybe I love you too much?
Maybe you’re not used to being loved? I wonder if your family broke you and now you can’t accept love from anyone.
If you’re waiting for the hockey player to come around, it won’t happen.
He’s straight, Ezra. Yes, he has a gay brother, but that won’t make a difference.
Maybe he’ll experiment with you, but then he’ll toss you aside.
I’ve seen it a million times. Come back to me and I’ll forgive you for this.
All my Love,
Tate
With heat igniting in my chest, I reread the last line repeatedly. “Fuck him.” I crumpled the letter. “He’s going to forgive me? For what?” He’d lost his goddamned mind. I tossed the letter to the ground and stabbed the button on my key fob. The car doors unlocked.
Shit, I had to keep the fucking letter. It was evidence I might need later. With a huff, I bent over, snatched the paper from the pavement, and stuffed it into my backpack.
The next day, I’d finished my photoshoot for the wedding at a nice golf club in Troon, which was in North Scottsdale.
And the day after that, photographed a family in the studio.
We’d gotten some cute shots of their baby in a red wagon with flowers all around him.
Every night, I’d reconnected with Lucas.
Thankfully, Tate hadn’t shown up again, so I didn’t have to lie.
It was late afternoon, and I’d bought a bouquet for Stella. Would she have seen Tate around my place while I’d been gone? I parked in my covered spot in the lot and strolled down the walkway to her apartment.
As I walked, I glanced at my apartment. Nothing seemed out of place. Maybe I was finally rid of Tate? I stopped at Stella’s door and knocked, holding the flowers against my chest.
The door swung open, and her eyes widened. “Oh my, hello Ezra.” She clasped her hands on her chest, her gaze darting from my face to the flowers.
“These are for you.” I held them out to her. “I wanted to thank you personally for helping me with Tate.” She was a fucking saint, in all honesty.
“Thank you, dear.” She grabbed the flowers from me and stepped aside. “Please come in. I have some chamomile tea. Do you like that?” She ambled into her galley kitchen, same as mine, and pulled a vase from a top cupboard.
“I do.” Okay, we’d have tea and not a coffee together. I stepped to her farm-style dinette and sat in a chair.
After putting water and the flowers into the vase, she puttered in her kitchen, setting a teakettle on the stove’s burner. “How is your relationship with the young man going?” She grabbed cups and set tea bags inside them.
My heart bloomed with warmth. “Really well. He’s out of town right now, playing away games with his hockey league.” I rubbed my index finger along a scratch on the table’s surface. “But he calls me every day.”
“He seems very protective of you.” She poured hot water into the cups and brought them to the table, along with some honey. “I prefer honey in my tea. You?” She set everything down.
“Same.” I slid my cup toward me and dunked the bag into the hot water. “He’s protective.” I chuckled. Now that I’d seen some of his games, I knew how physical he was. “He’s used to fights. Hockey players get into it on the ice.”
“That they do.” She gave me a pointed look as she spooned honey into her tea. “I’m from Wisconsin. I’ve seen a few hockey games.” She sipped her tea.
“Oh, my boyfriend—” Fuck, that came out of nowhere. “I mean, Lucas, went to school in Minnesota.” I placed the tea bag on a napkin and spooned honey into my tea.
“Ah, a lot of talented hockey players come from there.” She ticked her brows at me. “So, tell me, what’s happening with your ex?” She tightened her lips.
“Thanks to you, the court granted an order of protection against him. It’s temporary, but it’ll do for now.
” I glanced through the window, across the courtyard, shaded by tall trees, and to my apartment.
Would I ever feel safe there again? My chest pinched.
“Even with the order in place, he came to my studio today.” I sipped my drink. Would he try to contest it?
“He did?” Her eyes widened, and she tsked. “I hope you let the police know.”
Dipping my head, I said, “No, he didn’t stay long, so I didn’t call them.” Was I wrong? All I wanted was for him to leave me alone. I didn’t want to put him in jail.
“Why not?” She studied me. “They need to know he’s continuing to be a threat.”
“I guess I’m hoping he stops on his own.” I stared at my mug, my hands wrapped around its warmth on the table.
“It doesn’t sound like that’ll happen.” She draped her hand around my forearm. “Dear, you’ll need to be strong. It’s time you stood up for yourself.”
My gaze cut to hers and the corners of my eyes pricked. But I was, wasn’t I?
“This man is dangerous.” She tensed the edge of her mouth. “I’ve watched enough crime documentaries to know that once these men turn violent, it only escalates.” Her hand slipped away.
Nodding slowly, I took a hard swallow. Had Tate brought a bat with him to the studio?
If he did, was he intending to use it on me?
My pulse beat into my temples. “H-he, Tate, left a note on my car today. He keeps apologizing and asking me to go back to him.” But the fucker had made it sound like I did something wrong.
“You won’t, will you?” She wrinkled her forehead.
Shaking my head, I said, “No.” I drank more of my tea, the warmth calming my insides. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”
“When does your hockey player get home?” She sipped more tea.
“Tomorrow afternoon.” I’d wait for him at his apartment. Maybe I should plan something special for him?
“Will you be coming back to your apartment, then?” She glanced toward the window.
“I-I don’t know.” We hadn’t thought that far ahead. What if Lucas thinks it’s safe for me to go home now? “I uh, I didn’t tell Lucas about Tate coming to the studio.” My attention drew to her. Something about her made me spill all my bullshit.
“Why not? Don’t you trust him?” She cocked a brow.
“Because I don’t want him to worry about me. I think it’ll affect his game, and he needs to play well this season, so he can move on and play for the NAPH Team next year. That’s his plan, anyway.” I hung my head. Once more, I wasn’t standing up for myself.
“Honey, he needs to know what’s going on. He can’t be there for you if he doesn’t know the truth.” She scoffed. “I’d be furious if my son hid this kind of trouble from me.” She snickered. “Okay, I’d be mad.”
“I wish I had a mother like you.” Pain sliced through my heart. My mother didn’t even know where I was, unless Maddy had told her. Maybe she knew then, but still.
“What?” Her chair groaned across the tile floor as she slid in next to me. “Son, what’s going on with your mother?”
Oh, fuck. I should have kept my mouth shut. Huffing a sigh, I said, “When my parents found out I was gay, they let me stay long enough to graduate high school and then threw me out.” I slumped over the table.
She slid her arm over my shoulders. “I’m so sorry, honey.” With a click of her tongue, she said, “Maybe someday she’ll come around. I’m assuming your father is the same?”