Tackling Her Obsession with the Tight End

Chapter 9: Limits

Liam

"You look fine." Sean says with impatience as I stand in front of the standing mirror in my living room.

"No one asked you. You're biased anyway, because I resemble you somewhat." I say quickly and he laughs. We're almost identical. "Shouldn't you be at home irritating your wife?"

"I already drove her nuts all day. Now I'm here to make sure I haven't neglected raising your blood pressure. It's a second date, Liam. One you don't even really want to go on." He points out and Noah wanders in to lean one shoulder against the wall.

"You two have wives and yet you are always over here nagging at me. I'm single, isn't the cliché that I'm always at your places harassing you and making you beg to be alone with your women?" I point out and Noah smirks at me.

"Since when do we do anything the normal way? And my wife had to go back to school, so naturally I need to be here irritating Sean with you." Noah points out. "Why are you going out with Piper again anyway? You hated the last date."

"Because maybe it was a one off on her part. I am willing to go on one more before I write her off." I turn from the mirror and grab my keys and phone. Piper had been ok, but I quickly noticed she was obsessed with the price of things and only ordering the finest of anything. I understand looking for quality but it's not always the one with the biggest dollar sign next to it. Maybe she thought that was how I operated since I'm a pro football player.

"Text if you need a get out of jail free call." Sean offers.

"How are you doing with what Sarah told you?" Noah crosses his arms as he leans against the wall. When Noah does that it's because he'd really like to punch someone. I told him and Sean what Sarah confided about the verbal abuse. Noah had been ready to ride at dawn and take him out. I had tarps ready to haul. Sean was the one who talked us out of it though he muttered about a hit man. I swear he has one on speed dial.

"I want to march over there and demand she tell me everything he said. Go string him up and tie him to the bumper of my truck before heading down some very bumpy rocky dirt roads." I pause and Noah nods.

Sean bobs his head from side to side making a wry face. "So basically you're no more over it than you were. Or over her."

"No but I have to let go. Move on because otherwise it's going to eat at me and nothing will change. I promised I'd start seriously dating. Who knows, maybe I'll meet Princess Charming and find the glass baseball cap that fits." As I say it, I wonder if I'll be able to do it. But the fact that it's never worked out for Sarah and I might be a sign that it was never meant to be. "She sent me a funny meme today. I sent one back so maybe we're friends enough for that much. I'm not going to go crazy or anything."

They walk out with me and I drive to the restaurant. I managed to convince Piper to meet me here instead of picking her up.

She's waiting at a table already. I take note of her bright red silk dress and jewelry. It's overdone for this restaurant. I was wearing nice jeans and a button up shirt which was the standard fare for this place. She waves at me smiling and tossing her red hair over her shoulder. Unfortunately after only fifteen minutes, I already see I was right on the first date. She is way too focused on money. At least some of her conversation is enough to keep me from grinding my teeth down to a powder. I manage to finish my dinner and excuse myself to the restroom. On the way there, I pass our waiter and ask him to bring me a new soda when I get back. I don't trust leaving my drink with anyone. Too many horror stories among athletes. He nods knowingly and I resolve to tip him well.

On my way to the bathroom, I hear a familiar voice. It can't be. I look around until I see the familiar dark thick hair. It's unmistakeable. Sarah is here and she isn't alone. She's with a date.

I watch them talking. At least it isn't Paul the p***y. Guess it's a good thing I resolved to move on with my dating life. My heart breaks a little bit regardless as I force myself to walk away.

Sarah

"Should we really be meeting at a public restaurant like this?" I hiss at him as I sit down.

"Yes because I'm a client, remember. Put your phone on the table face up. Don't forget to smile, Miss Larson for anyone watching." The smiling gentleman across from me says. I study him. FBI Special Agent Quentin Sharp has black hair and sharp blue eyes. He's around thirty and I've noticed during our few meetings, he always sits upright on alert. He'd sent me a message today that we would be meeting right before Paul texted me to be here at this time. He was nicer than the first guy I was paired with to serve out my informant duties for the Chadwick evil empire.

"How have you been, Mr. Vinson?" I use his alias.

"Very well, Miss Larson. I wanted to discuss acquisitions and upcoming availability. Your boss said I could speak with you tonight and he'd answer anything I pass along to you." I nod and we pause to order. Once the waiter leaves, he shows me a photo on his phone. It's a blank invitation. "I'm very interested in this. I already have checked the catalog and seen some things that interest me." He subtly swipes the photo and the next one shows writing only visible with a blacklight. It lists a date and address four weeks from now. Nausea rolls through me as I know exactly what this event will be. An auction, a black tie one as I read the instructions at the bottom. "A masquerade event." He says quietly. I struggle to keep a blank face. So the elite scumbags can attempt to hide their identities from the crowd.

"Are there any particular items you wish me to inquire more information about for you?" I ask in my business tone.

"Yes these." He slides a note across the table. I open it slowly to find a list of twenty serial numbers. "And after this, I won't be needing your services again for a considerable amount of time, Miss Larson." This is what he was talking about that day. "It will be the biggest purchase in a decade."

I swallow my horror. When I got arrested that night Paul kidnapped me, I discovered he'd been using my name to show lots of dubious purchases and also as one of his distributors. Basically he'd been setting me up to keep me trapped with him for almost our entire relationship. Another form of abuse he inflicted without me even knowing. I couldn't prove I had nothing to do with it and I was facing ten to twenty years in a federal prison. They didn't care that I was a victim. Wouldn't listen to a word I told them. Twelve hours into my interrogation that night, they offered me a deal. I could help them take down the Chadwick empire which consisted of much more than drug trafficking. They dealt in weapons and also women. The last part had disgusted me to no end and helped me make my decision. They needed information and the fact that Paul said I would be working for them from then on was of great interest to them. If I cooperated and it resulted in an arrest of Paul and his father at the least, all charges would be dropped. Knowing I had no other choice and terrified for my life, I had agreed. I also wanted to help stop them and save the women they were trafficking. Pawpaw had been the phone call I made before I agreed. He showed up and was furious. Did his best and called in any favors he had, but there was no way to get me out of the charges in the first place. The judge signed off on my plea deal and here I am trapped at the FBI’s discretion.

It wasn't the first rodeo of entrapment for the Chadwick family and they had me completely at their mercy. The FBI made it sound so easy. Just call in each week and tell them anything I'd seen. If there would be shipments arriving of their "products", any buyers names that I found. Except I never got specifics. Paul was careful to keep me just in the dark enough. I managed numbers in spreadsheets that had vague categories. I designed generic sales websites and they would take over after I finished the basics. And my time helping just kept getting extended. I've told them I was completely done one other time. The week after I had to leave my date with Liam. I threatened to walk to Quentin. He'd been sympathetic but enlightened me that I would immediately begin my prison sentence while awaiting trial. He wasn't bluffing either. In effect, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

And then there were Paul’s threats against my family. Abusers do that frequently I learned in therapy. Except Paul and his father meant it. They had “enforcers” who were in actuality hired guns. Like a freaking mafia movie. Paul was also no stranger to getting his hands dirty. I had learned that lesson the hard way.

I am holding the agency to this event being my deadline. I can't do this anymore. I'm at my limit and honestly a federal prison where I could tell my family the truth sounds better than the current prison I'm living in. It might not have solid walls, but it’s got an electric shock fence. Then I could come clean to Liam and wouldn't have to live in fear every minute.