I haven’t heard much from Benjamin. I should call. I should check on him.
I’m sure he was overreacting when he said they would kill him. Right?
For once, I let go of what might happen and lean into what is happening.
It’s for me, this time. It’s time my brother grew up.
***
“So, you agree?” I smile into the phone listening to Milton and the soft singing coming from the bathroom.
King said he’d grab a shower, so I could speak to Milton in peace, but I don’t thinkpeaceis the kind of word usually associated with King Hertzof.
“I agree,” Milton confirms. “There’s been a change. The league will go along with our recommendations and lift the suspension. If he agrees to continue with both of us through the end of the season.”
“He’s already agreed,” I tell him.
“Good. You’ve worked a miracle with that one, Emee. You know, if you want more hockey players—”
“Oh my God, Milt, I need a minute on that,” I say, as there’s a banging on the hotel door. “But I have to go. Thanks, Milton.”
“No, thank you. The Blades need the King. Can’t wait to bring that cup back home.”
We sign off, and I hang up as the banging becomes more insistent.
“Emee! I know you’re in there, I can hear you!” Benjamin sounds desperate. Like, even more desperate than the last time I spoke to him.
I glance around the suite. My bra is hanging off the lamp. My panties are torn and laying just inside the door. The door to the bedroom is open and the bedding is torn off, the sheet pulled from the mattress and King’s clothes are scattered everywhere. And I have no time to clear it up.
I scurry for a robe that’s on the floor and belt it around me.
I jog to the door, pulling it open a few inches as Benjamin’s fist is poised to knock again. “What?”
“Emee, can I…” He glances over his shoulder toward the elevator. “Can I come in? I need help.”
“Not a good time. I was just in the shower,” I lie. “I’m not dressed. If you need money—”
He shakes his head, pushing his face into the opening of the door, looking over me at the room. “What I need is…”
“Hey, baby, who’s at the door?” King’s voice comes from behind as I grit my teeth on a wince.
Benjamin pushes at the door with his shoulder, and the train has left the station.
This is happening.
Benjamin is silent as I step back and let the Jenga blocks fall.
“My brother,” I finally say, tugging my lips to my teeth, curling and uncurling my fingers and toes.
Benjamin steps inside, staring over my shoulder.
“Hey, what’s up? Benjamin, right?” King calls as I open my mouth to answer but drop my chin turning my head toward his voice.
King is walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Looking all damp and tempting, and totally unabashed about my brother standing in the room.
For a second, I consider telling Benjamin it’s a new type of therapy, or that King got upset and needed to shower.
But then, why would I be in a robe? And I don’t think my brother missed King calling me “baby”, either.
