The Game : Part II: An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle

(Warning: Contains Adult Language and Material. This is not suitable for children.)

An R.L. Mathewson Chronicle

The Game: Part II

Fenway Park

Boston, MA

            “Looks like Trevor’s getting arrested.”

            “Uh huh, that’s nice,” she said, not bothering to look up from the iPad mini that she felt was rightfully hers now.

            “Marybeth,-” the betraying bastard once again started with his bullshit apology, but after twenty years of friendship she knew the tone that he was using a little too well.

            “Not going to work,” she said, absently swiping her finger over the iPad’s screen, sighing heavily when the new page didn’t look any more promising than the last one had.

            “But, I’m really sorry,” Darrin, the bastard that she couldn’t seem to shake, said, sounding like he was pouting, which he most likely was since his charming tone hadn’t worked.

            “Rot in hell, you selfish bastard,” she said, trying not to cringe when she saw the asking price for a basic one bedroom apartment on Royal Ave, which wasn’t exactly encouraging since Royal Ave was located in one of the worst parts of their city.

            “I can’t believe that you’re still mad,” the asshole muttered, grabbing her beer and finished it off.

            “Believe it, you male whore,” she muttered, once again swiping, cringing, and swiping again.

            “But, she attacked me!” Darrin said with the typical Bradford arrogance and drama that she was, unfortunately, used to.

            “Uh huh, that’s nice,” she said, wondering if she should look for a new roommate only to dismiss the idea seconds later. There was no way that she was going to be able to go through that again, not unless she cut the jerk stealing her hotdog out of her life and after twenty years of friendship and bullshit, she just couldn’t do it. She’d put too much time in training this one and at her age, she really didn’t like the idea of breaking in a new best friend.

            “What if I told you that I could make it up to you?” Darrin asked, putting his arm around the back of her seat so that he could lean in next to her and look at the screen.

            “I’d call you a lying bastard,” she said, not bothering to shove him away since it wouldn’t do any good. The bastard simply didn’t understand the concept of personal space, at least not where she was concerned.

            He’d always been that way. When they were kids he’d grab her by the hand and drag her everywhere, demand to sit next to her at lunch or in class, and he always had his arm thrown around her, always. If he’d been any other guy, she’d probably shove him away or kick him in the balls, but….

            It was Darrin, her best friend for twenty years and by this point she barely noticed anymore. She did notice when the women that he was dating took exception to it, mostly because they got all bitchy and pissy and thought to try to lay claim to Darrin and shove her out of the picture. It never worked, but she did appreciate the entertainment. She was a permanent fixture in his life and if a woman couldn’t accept that, Darrin dropped her without a second thought.

            She would like to say it was the same way for her, but Darrin really didn’t give her a choice in the matter. If any guy that she was dating took offense to their friendship, Darrin, the asshole that was currently eating her chips, would take it upon himself to show the guy to the door. It still pissed her off when he did it, but at this point it just wasn’t worth bitching about, not when he did other things to piss her off, other things that caused her roommate to have a meltdown, had the swat team breakdown her door, her landlord getting a restraining order against her and being forced to sleep on her brother’s ratty old sofa. With Darrin Bradford she learned a long time ago that she had to pick and chose her battles or deal with his glares and bitching.

            “I was going to tell you that Trevor had a townhouse for rent, dirt cheap, but since you’re not interested……,” he let his words drift off, shrugging as he sat back in his chair.

            She had to snort in disbelief, she really did. “You’re forgetting that he swore that he would never rent to either one of us again after what happened with that delivery kid from Papa Ginos.”

            She still hadn’t forgiven Darrin for that one. Trevor had been the best landlord that she’d ever had. He wasn’t a jerk, never raised her rent, always took care of his properties and never rented to any assholes, well, any assholes that he wasn’t related to anyway. She missed her old apartment. It had been large, newly updated, weather proofed and cheap, really cheap, but the bastard next to her had ruined it for her, because of a late night craving he’d had for buffalo wings.

            “He’s looking to sell it, because it’s not bringing in much money. He’s just looking for a tenant to stay there while he tries to sell the place, to make it look occupied. He said it’s harder to sell a place if it’s empty, looks less attractive to perspective buyers,” Darrin explained as he signaled to a vender passing by their row.

            It was tempting, very tempting but…..

            “I need a place longer than just for a month or two,” she pointed out, knowing that it wouldn’t take long for Trevor to sell the townhouse. All his properties were in perfect condition.

            “True,” Darrin said, handing the vendor five dollars for a cold Coke, “but I was thinking that he might finance you if you wanted to buy the property.”

            She had to roll her eyes even as excitement bubbled inside her at the prospect of finally owning her own home. It was tempting, really tempting. She would love having a place of her own, love to be able to work on it without having to ask her landlord’s permission for every little thing, love to have the peace of mind and security that owning a home would bring, but she knew that it would never happen. As a single woman in her twenties with only a GED, decent, not perfect, credit and none of her family willing to co-sign for her, she probably would never own her own home. It also didn’t hurt that her savings, while decent, was nowhere close to being enough for a twenty percent down payment.

            “He’s not going to finance me,” she sighed, finally looking up from the iPad’s screen so that she could swipe the Coke from his hands.

            He narrowed his beautiful green eyes on her as she made a show of opening the soda bottle and taking a long, satisfying sip, trying not to smile as he, still glaring at her, signaled the vendor for a second bottle. As she took a second, and just as satisfying, sip of her soda she couldn’t help but appreciate the man now glaring at her. With short, messy black hair, a golden tan, perfect masculine features, even the slight bump on his nose, incredible build, he was a woman’s walking wet dream, not hers, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t appreciate a hot guy when she saw one.

            “If he doesn’t, then Uncle Jared probably would,” he said with a shrug, finishing off his soda before grabbing hers and finishing that off as well.

            “Uncle Jared isn’t going to help me,” she mumbled, looking past Darrin to watch as Trevor was shoved down to his knees by three cops and handcuffed while Zoe frantically tried to explain something to the officers, probably something to do with the twins, she thought with a yawn. She looked over to find Uncle Jared holding the twins, who were looking a little too innocent as they ate ice cream cones. She knew without a doubt that whatever was going on, the two year olds were definitely behind it.

            “Of course he would,” Darrin said, watching the little scene to their right unfold, looking bored.

            “I’m just an employee,” she pointed out, trying not to wince when Trevor was shoved down to the stone staircase, face first.

            “Don’t let Uncle Jared hear you say that,” Darrin said, shifting back in his seat to get more comfortable.

            “Shouldn’t you help him?” she asked, gesturing towards Trevor as several more cops raced towards them since she didn’t feel like arguing about her boss and her weird place in the Bradford family.

            “Probably,” Darrin said around a yawn.

            “Are you going to?” she asked, watching as Trevor was yanked back up to his feet.

            “In a minute or two,” Darrin said, signaling for another Coke as they watched Zoe gesturing wildly between her twins, her husband and the field.

            “What the hell?” Jason snapped as he was suddenly grabbed by two cops and shoved to his knees next to Trevor.

            “Do you think the twins planned this?” she asked, taking the Coke from the vendor and gesturing for him to step aside so that she could watch the show.

            “It’s hard to say,” Darrin said, taking the Coke from her, taking a long sip before handing it back to her.

            “It’s kind of frightening,” she mumbled around a sip, watching as Haley walked over to join the drama.

            Darrin chuckled, taking the bottle back as Haley, smiling hugely, pulled out her cellphone and started taking pictures of her husband as a three hundred pound cop patted him down. After a slight pause, Marybeth pulled her cellphone out, deciding that she might need a good laugh later tonight when she had to fight with her brother’s dog, affectionately named Killer, for space on the couch.

            “I guess I should give them a hand,” Darrin said, taking one last sip before handing her the now-empty bottle.

            “Hold up,” she said, reaching out and stopping him by placing a hand on his arm. “I just want to get this……shot,” she said, angling her phone to just the right angle so that she could capture this momentous occasion. “Got it,” she said, with a satisfied sigh as she sat back and put her phone away.

            “Text them my way,” Darrin said, standing up as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his badge.

            “You know my fee,” she said, signaling to the vendor for another beer as she leaned back in her seat and watched as the Yankees creamed the Red Sox.

            Darrin chuckled as he pulled out some money and paid for her beer. “I’m not doing your laundry.”

            “We’ll see,” she said, knowing that the need to rub his cousins’ noses in this later would be his downfall. She might not have a place to stay yet, but at least she wouldn’t have to worry about doing her laundry for a week, she mused, sipping her beer as she took advantage of Darrin’s absence and bought for another hot dog.

© Rerum Industries, 2014. All Rights Reserved.

Dear Reader,

            I would like to introduce you to Darrin, one of the Bradford twins that you met in Checkmate, and Marybeth, the characters from the 6^th Neighbor From Hell novel.

            Darrin’s character is influenced by several men, two of them, funny enough, named Darrin. They are funny, smart, jerks, extremely dedicated to their families and two of them are bad boys.

            Marybeth’s character is influenced by a woman I stalk on FB who is extremely kind, loyal and funny as hell.

            Their personalities in my mind just match too perfectly to ignore, hence the 6^th NFH.

            I hope you enjoyed this Chronicle and have a wonderful week.

Sincerely,

R.L. Mathewson