My fists hurt as they pounded on the door for over two minutes straight. Finally, Ace answered. He leaned against the door frame, no shirt, already looking drunk.
“What’s up, kid?” he asked sarcastically.
“I need to speak to Whitney,” I insisted.
“No can do,” he said, his tongue gliding across his teeth.
“Is she here?”
He opened the door wide enough for me to see both Holly and Whitney sitting on the couch. It was obvious he wasn’t going to move out of the way for me to come inside, and he wasn’t going to let me talk to Whitney.
“Whitney!” I yelled through the door.
She looked at me; her eyes red and puffy, and it was like a punch in the gut. I felt so bad for hurting her. I was the biggest asshole in the history of assholes.
Ace closed the door just enough to block my view. I continued to try and look past him, calling out her name.
“Look, hot shot, you need to go.”
I quit shouting and looked straight in his eye. “Ace, let me through this fucking door or so help me…” I threatened.
He laughed. “So help you what?” he taunted.
I growled low in my chest. “I have to talk to her,” I demanded.
“You come to my house, beat on my door, scream and yell, then threaten me?” He was still smiling even though his tone was cocky and arrogant. “I’m afraid that’s a big mistake.”
I took a deep breath and looked at the man who once was my idol. “Ace, man to man here. Let me in so I can clear this up.”
“There’s nothing to clear up,” he spouted. “The paper put it in black and white.”
I lunged, pushing past him, realizing he wouldn’t be reasonable. He pushed me back, and I stumbled off the top step, almost losing my balance. His eyes were dark and cold as his lips curled into a crooked smile.
“I told ya to settle down, kid, but you wanted to outdo me,” he taunted. ‘Well, you proved you’re a stud, but you lost your lady in the process.”
I lunged forward again, this time with my arm cocked back. I swung as hard as I could at his smug face. The connection was solid, and he fell back into the door, opening it enough for me to see Whitney again.
“Whitney!” I yelled out, then felt Ace’s knuckles slam into my jaw. I fell back, this time not catching myself, landing on my ass at the bottom of his three concrete steps.
“I told you I’d take you down, hot shot,” he smirked, then slammed the door.
I wiped myself off and climbed into my SUV. I drove home slowly, almost stopping at Home Plate for a drink, but talked myself out of it. I knew if I could just talk to her things would be okay. If I could get close enough to her to explain.
I dialed Rhett’s number and got his voicemail. “That was a real dick move today, Rhett, not even giving me a chance to talk to her. Whose side are you on? The skirt you’re chasing or the man you paid millions for?”
Next, I dialed Marty, and when he answered, I asked him to meet me at my house. He kept asking if I was okay, and I kept telling him I was fine, to just meet me. I wasn’t fine. None of this was fine.
I sat on the white chair in my living room and stared out the window. When I saw Marty’s red truck pull up, I rushed to the door and held it open while he jogged up the walk.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
I pulled him inside, shut the door, and motioned for him to sit down. He listened intently as I told him about Whitney, and how everyone seemed to be keeping her away from me. “They don’t want her to know the truth,” I said. I knew I sounded crazy, just like Marty had that night at the bar, but I couldn’t come up with an explanation. Nothing made sense.
“Why would Rhett want to destroy one of his most valuable players?” Marty asked. Great, now I sound like a lunatic to Marty!
“I don’t know,” I said. “But, why wouldn’t he let her talk to me?”
When I got to the part about Ace, explaining why my lip was bleeding, and my jaw was red — something I kept pushing off answering when Marty first arrived — I noticed his eyes grow darker.
“You need to steer clear of Ace Newman,” he said. “If he wants to destroy you, he will.”
These were things I’d already figured out on my own. What I needed to know was why he would want to, and how he planned to do it. What did Whitney have to do with any of this? My mind was scrambling for answers.
“I mean, I could say Rhett played the hero role because he wants her for himself,” I explained. “But, what does Ace have to do with that?”
Marty shrugged. “Unless he’s just protecting Rhett’s interests.”
“Did Ace use Holly to get an in with Whitney for Rhett?” I asked out loud. “This is crazy!” I shook my head, then stood and paced around the room. I sounded crazy… that was the problem.
“I’m really sorry, man,” Marty said, patting me on the back. “Just watch yourself.”
He looked as exhausted as I must have when I sat and listened to him at the bar that night. I walked him out, thanked him for coming, and apologized for ranting about crap that made no sense.
I pulled a beer from the fridge. I twisted the cap from the top and held it to my lips. It was the first one I’d had in over a week. It tasted good as it rolled down my throat. I finished it in one guzzle, then grabbed another before going upstairs. I sat on Whitney’s bed, looked around at her belongings and felt my heart aching inside my chest.
Slowly, I went to my room. The mattress felt so big without her beside me and the room so cold without her snuggled under my arm. I clicked on the TV and scanned through the channels until I found one of my favorite sports shows.
I knew they would all be talking about how Malone went nuts and ran through the stands, and I wasn’t wrong. I watched video after video of myself acting like a crazy person trying to get to Whitney.
“And what was it all about?” one reporter asked and then pointed to the screen where the video Caroline took was playing. You could hear me screaming at her to get the fuck out, bleeped for language of course. Thankfully my junk was blurred out. I knew there were plenty unedited versions floating around the Internet too, so I didn’t dare look.
The hosts all laughed and added their two cents about the situation. “So, was that his estranged girlfriend in the stands?” one asked.
“Yes, there have been rumors that Rhett Hamilton was dating his ex,” another added. I couldn’t take it anymore. I clicked it off and rested my head on the pillow that was scented with Whitney’s perfume.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Calvin
I woke up to a loud banging on my front door and the chime of the doorbell echoing off the walls of the large empty rooms. I jumped up and ran down the steps, skipping them three and four at a time. I unlocked it, jerking it open. My heart sank when I saw Holly standing on my doorstep.
Alone.
“I’ve come for Whitney’s things,” she said, her hands on her hips, a don’t give me any shit look in her eyes.
“How is she?” I asked, pulling a t-shirt over my head.