Theirs to Play (20 page)

Some classical piano tune played in the background as she twisted and turned in my arms, probably struggling with a nightmare or maybe the stress that Caden and I had triggered in her life. It continued on, until the moon left the sky and welcomed the sun. By the afternoon, she woke up refreshed and I was exhausted. It took us a good two hours to get her, Max, and me on our plane where my poor staff had been ready for us for several hours.

During the flight, Max snored on Dawn’s right and I gazed at her on my left. She barely talked to me, never truly gave me enough response to allow conversation, and wouldn’t let me touch her hand or press my lips against her soft skin.

She’s already left me behind.

The moment we landed in Miami crushed me the most. She’d already gathered her purse, unbuckled her seat belt, and stood up before the pilot could tell us to safely depart.

“I’m going to take a taxi home,” she announced.

“No. I’ll have my driver—”

“No.” She wagged her finger. “I’m fine.”

“Please let me make sure you get home safe.” I seized her waist and attempted to pull her to me.

She climbed out of my hands. “I’m serious, Freddy. No more. Don’t touch me. Don’t call. And no, I don’t need you to take me home.”

She said those words like I was some dense child that couldn’t understand simple concepts. Fury rose in me. It was a hot flame, blazing like wildfire inside of my chest, but I did my best to not reveal my treacherous emotions on my face. “It’s just a ride home, nothing more.”

Ignoring me, she walked down the small row of leather seats and approached the exit. There, the stewardess opened the door and gestured that it was safe to leave.

“Wait.” I marched behind her.

“For what?” She stood in front of the plane’s doorway.

“I’m going to—”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to be civilized and say goodbye.”

“I hate when you interrupt me,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Too bad.”

I groaned and yearned to kiss that smart mouth of hers.

“It was really nice meeting you and Max, but I’m afraid this is where we end.” Dawn offered me her hand to shake.

I stared at it. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

Still standing by, the stewardess cleared her throat and fled to the cock pit.

“You’re supposed to shake my hand,” she countered.

“I want a goodbye kiss.”

“You can’t have it.”

“Then this won’t be goodbye for us.”

“O-kay. Apparently, you’re delusional from exhaustion.” Dawn put her hand in her pocket. “Bye, Freddy.”

She departed and I battled with thousands of words on my tongue. I thought back to all of those romance movies I’d seen. I took women to tons of those types of movies when I played my games and tried to get their heads in a delusional state of love.

What should I say? What would those heroes do?

I remembered the final scenes of romance movies being this grand display of love—a man racing in the rain-battered streets and screaming her name out to all that could hear. Maybe I could stand outside of her place with a symphony orchestra playing love songs and my hands full of flowers. I could have people release doves near her window or maybe even butterflies. Lots of them. Perhaps, gifts would work. Tons and tons of expensive jewelry, chocolate, clothes, and more. Did she need a car or better apartment? How was she paying for school? Maybe I could take over her bills to show her my commitment.

No. Shit. No. None of those will work with Dawn.

I got a feeling that all of those things would be too crazy, and surely with this Caden guy, she’d seen enough of that. He was wealthy himself, probably did all of that stuff and more.

Come on. Think.

Second after second, Dawn strolled away from my plane, never looking back with reluctance that she was making a mistake. In fact, with each step away she appeared surer of her decision.

Damn you, Dawn. This is a mistake.

But how could I tell this woman that? What method would be perfect in making her see that I was the man for her? How could I show her that, when I wasn’t even a hundred percent sure of it myself?

Maybe I need to figure this out first.

Max got to my side and yawned. “Are we leaving the plane too or staying on?”

“We’re leaving.”

Dawn disappeared into the airport’s building.

“She was fun.” Max scratched his head. “Now where are we off too? New York, Chicago, Los Angeles is great this time of year and there’s always Vegas.”

“
We’re
not going anywhere, but you can have the pilot take you wherever you need to.” I left and headed down the stairs.

I could register into the Culinary Arts Institute like I’d told her before. That really would be fun, learning how to cook. Even if she doesn’t give me the time of day, at least I wouldn’t have wasted my time here.

“What do you mean you’re not going anywhere?” Max trailed behind me.

“I’m staying in Miami.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” I scanned this city’s sky and wondered if I’d ever be tired of looking at it for these next months to come. I’d visited this place twice before, only staying for a week at the most. No country or city ever kept me there too long. I always played for a while and left.

Okay, Dawn. I’ll show you that I can be different. I’ll just take my sweet time doing it.

Max tapped my shoulder. “Did you hear me?”

“What?” Annoyance laced my voice.

“Why are you staying here?”

“Don’t be stupid. You know why?”

“For that chick?” He hit the air with his hands. “Come on!”

“What’s the big deal. Go off without me.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you here to make a fool of yourself.”

“Yes. You. Are.” I stopped and glared at him. “Turn around, get on the plane, and tell the pilot where you need to go, then stay there for a while.”

“Let’s just go off to Vegas, Bro. You’re acting crazy.”

I pulled out my wallet and yanked out a good bit of cash. “Vegas is the last place you need to be. Here’s some money. I know you’re just hanging with me right now because you’re out of money. Here’s several thousand. Take it and figure out what your problem is because I’m done paying your way this quarter.”

He stepped back and refused to take it. “What do you mean you’re done paying?”

“I’m done. Your access to my accounts are cut. You are now looking at all of the money you have to spend for the rest of the quarter.” I waved it in front of his face.

He grabbed it. “Freddy, I’m your little brother. Don’t do this to me. What is this anyway?” He counted it. “Ten thousand? How the hell am I going to survive off of ten thousand this summer?”

“Figure it out. Stay with some friends.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Maybe visit somebody from college or go stay with Mom and Dad. They would love to have you.”

“I want to hang with you.”

I headed off. “No man. I’ll be busy.”

“Busy making a fool of yourself for some average female.”

“Be careful, Max. I’d hate to punch you when you’re already feeling low. Take the money and figure your shit out.”

“I’ll stay on our yacht,” he suggested. “I’ll just keep out of your hair.”

“I purchased the yacht. It’s officially mine. If I see you on there, I’m calling Dad and letting him know that you lost a total of five million dollars in the past weeks.”

“You would do that?” he yelled.

I didn’t waste my time responding. We both knew I would and plus I had several things to do. Lots of plans.

How do I register for this institute? Maybe I’ll get one of the staff to take care of it. What about this Caden guy? She never told me his last name. Is that even his first name or middle? I guess I could get someone to investigate her past and find out who he is.

“Freddy!”

I kept pushing forward. Determination moved within my bloodstream. I was a man with a serious plan. For the first time in my life I possessed a clear goal that wouldn’t be forgotten or thrown to the side.

You’re wrong, Dawn.

Epilogue

A month later. . .

~Max

The worst thing my parents could’ve done to my brother and I was be rich.

Money gave us time to wander the earth lazily in our massive yacht. It allowed for many indiscretions—partying three days straight with no sleep or food just the need to dance and sex till our hearts’ desired something else. We played hard and lived better than most of the planet’s population.

And the women.

Well the women were our sport. It was the only way we would judged our worth among us two, the only method of entertainment once the clubs and excitement of being adults on our own shifted into endless days of monotonous boredom.

So with complete confidence and no worries, we had docked Miami.

We shouldn’t have.

At times I sat in my empty apartment, drinking until I passed out and thinking about that day.

Had there been any signs, something foreboding enough to signal our oncoming demise? Whatever it was, that summer was the last time I fully lived.

Every day after that, I died.

I didn’t have a name for this torture, but I knew some would say it was a broken heart. Others would simply call it karma.

Fuck karma.

I finished the last bit of vodka and threw the bottle. It crashed against the wall. Glass sprayed and rained down to the floor across from me where hundreds of other tiny pieces of shattered liquor bottles lay. My landlord that I rented the place from didn’t care. He was too busy getting high off of the two thousand I gave him to live in this rat hole for the summer

I’ll show, Freddy. This time I’ll do it. I can get over gambling with no problem.

I’d lost the money Freddy gave me at the airport. It hadn’t been that hard being that I flew off to Vegas with it. My luck had finally left me. It took me ten minutes to gamble it all away and another two hours to beg Freddy to have the plane bring me back.

Back in Miami, my dear brother handed me over a check for another ten thousand dollars and shut the door on our communications forever; explaining that I shouldn’t talk to him again until I’d started seeing a counselor.

No way. I can get over this myself.

I rented a small place across the street from Dawn to monitor Freddy’s stupid activities. When I wasn’t watching him make a fool of himself from my window, I kept my tasks simple—wake up, walk to the store, buy alcohol, go home, drink it, and don’t gamble away the rest of the money.

“I’m doing fine.” I stared at the pile of bills that rested on the floor. The money was a constant reminder of my addiction which was the big monster hovering over me in the room. A gigantic slimy beast with jagged glowing fangs that gnashed at me whenever I tried to sleep, eat, or give my mind a few minutes of peace.

“Let’s hit up a casino,” it said. “There are small ones in Florida. We can wager small and build up our wins slowly. We’ve got to win with that plan. Then Freddy won’t doubt you anymore. He’ll understand that all this time, he was the fool.”

I grabbed the new bottle of vodka, opened it, and took a swig. “Freddy’s too busy chasing Dawn. He wouldn’t care if I had won millions.”

My heart ached at the last conversation we had where he confessed that he was tired of me. Done with my shit was more like it. Done with us. My brother broke my heart and for what, to go after some chick that wouldn’t give him the time of day?

From the shadows of my apartment, I watched my brother be the very epitome of dumb.

Almost everyday Freddy went over there and knocked on her door. She didn’t answer, especially when it was apparent that she was there. Half the time, her window’s curtain was open and even I could see her lounging on the couch and reading a big, stupid book from my view across the street. She never got up.

I’m starting to see that once Dawn has her mind set on leaving a guy, she won’t budge. I probably never had a chance.

I couldn’t even count the crap Freddy had delivered to her place—huge wooden boxes of furniture, book shelves, books, clothes, jewelry, and even more ridiculous things that sat on her doorstep for days until a bum or neighbor sneaked by in the middle of the night and took it.

Two days ago, Freddy switched up his approach.

He marched over to her front door with determination and a plastic bowl in his hand. I had to get on my tip toes and strain to see those oddly shaped cookies in the container. At least I think those black circular things were cookies. Regardless, he approached her door, knocked twice, left the container, returned to his car, and sped off.

Things changed that time. She opened the door and checked it out. There’d been a pink letter taped on top. She read that first. Laughter fled her lips.

Did he make those damn cookies? Probably. He’s going to end up poisoning her.

Freddy loved to cook, but never understood how bad the food was. No one in the family had the heart to tell him.

Either way, that day Dawn did a quick check of the area as if making sure Freddy was nowhere in sight. She picked up one of those cookies, sniffed it, and took a bite. The one thing that kept running through my mind was that I wished she would choke, maybe then I could get my brother back. Granted, I didn’t truly want her to die. Part of the fun of living across from her was watching those breasts bounce up and down as she started her run early in the morning.

Either way, she didn’t choke on those cookies. Instead she groaned in pleasure and took the whole bowl inside with her.

Poor, Dawn. Now you’re only going to encourage him.

Yesterday, Freddy left a cake, this big pink thing that was high on one side, but slanted down on the other. He had the nerve to coat it with fluffy pink icing and prop a goddamn princess at the center.

Now he’s really lost his mind.

Again, he left it and drove away. It barely took a minute for her to open the door. She must’ve stood in her doorway forever with her hands covered over her mouth as she gazed at that ugly display of baking.