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Hustle: Chapter 23

NOTHING

The wind from last night hasn’t died, but it carries a damp chill with it now. As I reach Kyle’s apartment building, the sky starts spitting icy drops that sting. The covered walkway offers no protection since the sporadic raindrops blow from every direction.

The approaching storm should have kept me at home, but my curiosity won. My hand is numb and shaking as I knock on his apartment door, from nerves or cold, I can’t tell the difference.

I’m about to knock again when the door swings open. Kyle turns and walks down the entry hall without a word.

I step through the open door, shutting it behind me, and then follow him down the tiled hall.

I pass by a tiny kitchen and a few closed doors, and then the hallway opens to a living room about the size of my dorm. A TV is mounted along one wall, gaming systems and cases piled on the floor. A futon is along the opposite wall with a chair on one side. A black sheet covers what I can only assume is a sliding glass door to his second story balcony. Otherwise, the walls are blank, a dingy off white.

Kyle’s on the futon, and he nods to the chair to his left for me to sit on as he stares at the TV, pressing a few buttons on his controller before setting it down on the scratched and faded wooden coffee table.

I sit, gripping the sleeves of my sweater in my fist, for warmth and to steady myself. “What’s up, Kyle?”

He eases back in his seat, staring like he’s measuring me. “How serious are you and Drew?”

I sit up, stomach summersaulting with just the mention of him, of us. But I want to protect it more than anything. “You heard him last night, our relationship is ours, and no one else’s concern.”

“I heard. He says the same thing about him and Tatum. Don’t you question that?”

My jaw clenches as my heart burns, but I shake my head.

“You should,” he scoffs as he sits forward, leaning towards me.

“No, he talks to me. He tells me what he’s ready to tell, and that’s enough.”

“You don’t believe that.” His smile is smug, he’s so certain of his words. “You wouldn’t be here if you did.”

“I’m here because you said you wanted someone to talk to.” I sit on the edge of the chair, my knee bouncing under my arm.

“Sure,” he leans back, voice and smile dripping with sarcasm, “that’s the reason you’re here. Enough bullshit, Andrew’s still screwing Tatum, and you don’t strike me as the type to stick around if you knew that. So there you go.” He scratches at the scruff on his chin and he nods in my direction.

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do, so does everyone that was at the sorority Saturday night.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I hang onto my doubt in him, before letting him pull up my doubt in Drew.

“The question is, why didn’t your roommate? She was there.” He cocks his head, his smile sliding like poison into me. “She probably didn’t want to ruin what she has going, and you being with Drew keeps her close to TJ since you keep bringing her around.”

“So that’s why you’re telling me?” I speak slow, forming my theory as I talk. “This is really about you and TJ.” He sucks his teeth, about to respond but I continue, “You’ve been his teammate for three years, but you have no loyalty. You’ve been calling Tatum and her friends to come around him, when he’s been trying to avoid her. And I’m suppose to believe you’re telling me out of kindness?”

“No.” He lifts his hand matter of fact. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. He had her screaming his name Saturday night; everyone in that house heard it. I’m not sharing any secrets here. Only telling you something you need to hear. I warned you about this group, me included.” His face drops then, maybe in response to me, it feels like I’ve been drained of all blood. “I have my reasons, true. But I also don’t like seeing you being the joke. And I do owe you.”

“Maybe you heard wrong.” It’s more of a prayer.

He shakes his head. “They fight, they fuck. That’s them.”

“What exactly did you see?”

But a knock at the door has him on his feet, finger up to me to as he rounds the corner to go down the hall to the door.

I sit still, his words replaying, pulling at all the knots in my gut, tearing them apart.

But, I snap out of misery when I recognize TJ’s voice.

“Why you acting so strange?” TJ’s teasing, and his footsteps get closer. “Hiding something or—” He smiles wide as he enters the living room, swiping his hand over a few wet strands that have broken free of his bun. “—Like I thought, someone.”

Kyle rounds the corner and shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“No?” TJ lifts his eyebrow and plops on the futon, his suspicious smile directed at me. “You and him are hanging out, now?” He flicks his eyes to the silent TV. “What ya doing here? Talking?”

“Stop.” Kyle’s standing in the middle of the room. His discomfort make’s me rise to my feet.

“I’m going to go.”

“Relax.” TJ leans back on the sofa, large body taking up most of the space. “Your secret’s safe with me. I’m not going to tell Drew his girl is fucking around on him with the team’s biggest asshole. It is surprising though.” His smile twists into a sneer as he looks to Kyle and then sweeps his gaze to me. “You must have a magic pussy to get Drew to keep you around and Kyle to break his dry spell.”

“It’s not like that.” My blood burns as my heart pounds. “We were only talking.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” TJ’s brow rises as he stands. “I’ll go, let you both… finish talking.”

I shoot a panicked look to Kyle, and he speaks up, “She knows about us.”

The look TJ shoots Kyle is so full of fire it even burns me and alights the space around us. And I know I need to leave.

“What does that mean?” All his focus is on Kyle, but his hand snatches my arm when I step to leave.

I gasp with the force of his grip and TJ lets go, dropping my arm to approach Kyle.

“She saw us before practice the other week.” Kyle’s broad, strong body looks tiny compared to TJ’s massive form. And I fear for him as the larger man growls.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He shoves him and then turns back to me. “What do you think you saw?”

I shake my head, denying everything with a suffocating fear terrorizing me. I’d never seen TJ angry, but his every movement’s filled with pure violence. I step back slow, preparing for him to come at me, but he turns towards Kyle.

“That’s why she’s here.” Kyle lifts his blocky head, but his voice comes out strange, soft, soothing. “She’s agreed not to talk. But she knows about us, she saw us kiss.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” TJ moves faster than I thought possible, and Kyle is tossed into the wall with a sickening thump that vibrates my bones. Then he slides to the ground. “Shut your mouth. There’s no us.”

Without thought, I’m between Kyle and TJ, on the ground blocking Kyle from TJ’s next move, but not for long. TJ shoves me off him, and my hip smacks the tile as I bounce to the edge of the coffee table.

When I scramble to my feet, TJ has him lifted up by his shirt, pressed to the wall. “Say it again? Go ahead, say it again?”

“Who are you trying to fool? She saw it.” Kyle doesn’t back down under his rough hold. He keeps his eyes burned on TJ. “You can go, Brook.”

I hesitate, unsure of Kyle’s safety, but his smile convinces me. My steps turn into a run as heavy footsteps gain on me in the hall. And then I’m yanked back and slammed to the wall in a blinding flash of pain and panic.

“…didn’t see anything.” TJ’s voice roars behind my blood in my ears and the screaming pain of his huge hands around my neck, squeezing. “Nothing.”

I writhe under his hold, my arms stretching out to his face, pushing, gripping his hair, pulling. Anything as I fight for air, red bleeding into the edge of my vision.

Then I drop, gasping for breath from my position on the ground, balling up to protect myself, but nothing comes. I risk looking up; Kyle has TJ from behind in a choke hold.

“She’s known for weeks and hasn’t talked. You’re not helping.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” TJ slams him to the wall at his back.

“There is now. Calm the hell down, you’re giving her a reason to talk.”

Kyle releases his hold as I rise to my feet, only wanting to escape, but TJ moves to block the door.

Tears burn my eyes, and my voice sears as I cry out, “No, I won’t say anything. Please.”

“There’s nothing to tell, is there?” He questions in an insanely calm voice, which only makes him more intimidating.

I shake my head, still unable to catch a decent breath without pain. “No.”

“I wasn’t even here today,” he continues, crowding me back with his body. “Neither were you, right?”

I nod my head.

“Good.” He looks past me to Kyle. “This is your fault. We’ve got eight more games, outside of that, you don’t exist.” With one last step towards me, he drops his voice, “I’ve heard some things about you, but I’ve stayed out of it. Keep your mouth shut, and I’ll continue to stay out of it.”

I drop my eyes, unable to meet his bright with a threat, but he lifts my chin in a rough grip. “I’m not playing with you. Keep that mouth shut. Do you understand?” At my nod, he releases me. “Then go.”

He barely moves back, but I pass by him, looking at no one as I exit into sheets of rain that’s a mixture of relief and drowning.

The winds wrap around me, cooling my burning skin, my tears are covered in the flood falling from the sky, but every lungful of icy air gives way to a breathless sob. I hurry to the shelter of my dorm, headless of the puddles. My clothes are soaked to my skin, but I don’t care. All I want to do is get into bed and hide. It’s not till I see the building that I begin to question what I’ll say if confronted. I have to look a mess. I won’t say anything. I can’t say anything.

Say nothing. Say nothing. Nothing. Nothing—repeats in my head, over and over.

See nothing.

Say nothing.

I am nothing.

Nothing.

And it must be true because I walk through the halls like a ghost, no one stopping me or questioning me. The trail of puddles dripping from me, the only proof of my existence. And when I get to my room, it’s empty. Rose is gone, and I’ve never been more thankful.

I strip myself and reach to my bottom drawer, pulling out my emergency sweatpants and sweatshirt. My father’s sweats with the Marine Corps emblem, they swim on me, and I burry myself into them.

Someone’s calling and each ring frays my heart. I turn it off and hide in bed, pulling the covers over my aching body and still wet hair.


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