Respect Me, Part 1 by Nia Arthurs
Jerrison
A ringing cellphone jars me from restless slumber.
I cling to the dream, reluctant to face the world. My fingers tighten around a woman’s body.
The cell phone stops.
Then it starts wailing again.
I bury my head in the woman’s neck. “Harriet, get that would you?”
The cell phone screams at me.
A huff of annoyance builds in my chest. Didn’t she hear me? That thing is going to wake the damn neighbors.
I groan her name again.
The woman in my arms turns as rigid as steel.
I pry my eyes open. Blink sleepily.
A face comes into focus. Brown skin. Long hair. Gap-tooth.
Not Harriet.
Not my wife.
Ashley’s face is twisted into an expression I’ve never seen on her before. Eyebrows pulled tightly together. Lips flattened into a furious line. Nostrils flaring like a raging bull.
I brace myself to be skewered. “Let me get that.” Turning away from her, I pick up my phone and check the screen.
Nathan Zedina.
I curse softly. “What does he want?”
“What did you just call me?” Ashley sits up. Moonlight caresses her slender arms and delicate throat. She’s wearing a silky nightgown. The kind with thin straps and a shimmering material. The kind that looks way too cheap to cost as much as it does.
Zedina calls my phone again.
I should have blocked his number when I had the chance.
“Jerrison,” Ashley’s voice rises to a shriek, “don’t ignore me.”
“Baby, I need to take this.” I scoot out of the bed.
She snaps her fingers around my arm. “You’re not going to call me by someone else’s name and think you can just brush it off.”
“I said Ashley, honey.” Impatience makes my lie a little too jarring to be believable. A little too insistent to go down the throat smoothly. “You must have heard wrong.”
Her eyes narrow to slits. “I did not.”
A chirp disrupts the tension.
A text from Zedina.
Pay me what you owe or I’ll send these to every tabloid in the city.
Another chirp.
This time, a picture comes in.
My eyes nearly burst out of my head. It’s an image of me and Ashley on a date.
“Jerrison!” Ashley screams. “Don’t you dare ignore me! Don’t you dare!”
I scramble for my pants and pull them on. “Babe, I have to go.”
“Go where? We’re in the middle of a discussion right now.”
I yank my arm away from hers and dig through the lump of clothes on the floor—her panties, her bra, my shoes—until I find my shirt.
Ashley glares at me from the bed. I feel her gaze like lasers burning into my back, slicing through bone and flesh.
It’s a risk to leave when she’s so furious, but it’s not like I have a choice.
I scramble to the door. “I’ll call you.”
“Don’t bother!” The instruction comes a moment before a pillow collides with the door knob.
I duck and run away before any more flying missiles reach their target.
Zedina asks to meet in a shady alley.
It feels like we’re doing a drug deal.
I climb out of my car. My shoes scrape against garbage and sticky fluid with a putrid smell. The moonlight barely squeezes past dark clouds hovering low. The buildings on either side of the alley press in, eager to hear of my demise.
Should have brought a knife with me. Something to defend myself with. I don’t know what Zedina has in mind, but I think it’s safe to say he’s not here to thank me for letting him go.
The retired boxer steps out from the corner. He looks down at me, both feet spread apart and dirty beard trembling in the breeze. He’s wearing a green windbreaker, dark pants and dirty sneakers. He gets a little closer and his smell hits me. Alcohol and self-pity.
I barely restrain the need to pin my nose. “You have five minutes, Zedina.”
“You’re going to give me more than that, Bradley.” Zedina rasps. He’s slurring, which tells me the stench on him is from several days of binge-drinking.
“Unless you give me my compensation,” he snarls at me, “I’m going to release these.”
“You dragged me out here to say that crap? You already made your threats over the phone.” I stuff my hands into my pockets. It’s getting cold out here and goosebumps sweep up my arms.
“You must be scared of these photos getting out,” Zedina preens.
“I don’t care about the damn pictures.” I step into his space. Stab a finger in his chest. “But if you ever threaten me again, I won’t be this patient.”
Zedina sways. His eyes are red, and his eyelashes bounce in slow motion. “You owe me, Bradley. I gave my life to that agency. You can’t just kick me out.”
“I can and I have.”
“If I go down,” he hiccups, “you do too.”
A giant sigh lifts my chest and releases into the night. It’s been a hell of a day. I got told off by my wife and now Ashley’s pissed at me. Zedina is an unnecessary headache. I have zero patience for his threats.
Turning, I march toward my car.
Zedina rushes after me. A hand slams against my shoulder. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Home.” I push him off. “As should you. You’re buzzed, Zedina. I’m leaving you alone as a final curtesy. Don’t make me regret my decision.”
“I’m serious, Bradley. I want my money.”
“I don’t have any money for you.” I whirl around and lift a finger in his face. “Delete those pictures before I get really pissed off.”
He curses under his breath, stumbling back.
I get into my car and drive away.
Ashley’s probably gone cold after our fight tonight, so I don’t head to her apartment. I’m not in the mood for company anyway.
I drag myself into my house and toss my keys in the cup. Rather than clamor upstairs, I drop into the sofa and press my head against the cushions. When did my life become this pathetic? Why does it feel like everything is falling apart around me?
I doze off on the couch.
It feels like only minutes later when I hear a knock on the door.
My head whips up.
The first thought that zips through my mind is that Harriet’s back.
I scramble to my feet. The world spins around me because I move too fast. My hand falls on my head and I cringe when I see the drool stains on my arm. Wiping the moisture on my shirt, I stumble to the door.
There are more powerful knocks.
I doubt it’s Harriet.
She wouldn’t knock anyway.
“Just a minute,” I spit out. If it’s Zedina, I’m going to make his life a living hell. The only reason I went easy on him is because of our past history, but that won’t keep him safe forever.
To my surprise, it’s not Zedina on my doorstep.
My eyes widen. “Fuentes.”
“Can we talk?” He gives me a serious look.
I blink rapidly. “Of course. Of course. Come in.”
Fuentes enters my living room, his eyes darting from the sofa to the picture frames of me and Harriet on the mantle.
“Sorry to barge in,” he says in an agitated manner that tells me he doesn’t feel an ounce of regret.
“It’s no problem.” I brush my shirt down and gesture to the sofa. “I wasn’t expecting you. What is this about?”
Fuentes doesn’t take the seat I offer. Instead, he turns to me with dark eyes. “Mr. Bradley, you’re aware that my contract has a clause specifically related to company scandal.”
“I’m well aware.” My laugh is nervous. “Are you here to double-check that? Because I assure you, there’s nothing remotely scandalous about our company—”
Fuentes cuts me off with a frown. “It’s very important to me that the people I surround myself with are honest, even if they’re flawed. I don’t like secrets. They have a bad habit of cropping up and ruining lives and futures. I’ve seen plenty of athletes go down because they couldn’t keep their personal lives in check. I’ve worked hard for my good name and I don’t want to be associated with a company that’ll ruin that.”
“Fuentes, I can assure you that you’re in the best hands at our agency. I’m personally in charge of your contracts and I’ve put more money and effort into you than anyone else because I admire that conviction and I believe in your skills.”
His eyes narrow. “I got a text from Nathan Zedina last night.”
It’s suddenly hard to swallow. “W-what?”
“He sent me photos of you and some other woman.” Fuentes scowls. “A woman who is not your wife.”
Sweat breaks out on my neck. “I-I can explain. Those pictures were taken out of context—”
“Don’t lie to me, Mr. Bradley. I don’t want to lose the little respect I still have for you.”
I lick my lips nervously. “Alright. I’ll be honest. My wife and I are having some issues, but I’m taking care of it.”
“I run on a campaign of integrity. All my fans know me as the person they can trust. That is my standard and we discussed that.”
“Everyone admires that about you, Fuentes. Even me.”
“I don’t want your admiration, Jerrison. I want a company that won’t mix my name up in a stink.”
I hold my hand out to him. He’s my golden goose and I can’t lose him before he’s even laid one golden egg. “I’ll handle Zedina. None of this is getting out.”
“Mr. Bradley, I’ll need more than that.”
“More?”
“I’d like to see you and your wife.”
I mop up the sweat with the back of my hand. “That’s… not really possible right now.”
“When will it be possible?” His dark eyes bore into me.
I glance away. “I’ll work on it.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? That’s not enough.”
Annoyance shoots through my veins. I grind my teeth, struggling to keep my tone calm. “Whatever my wife and I are working through, I swear it won’t affect you.”
“There’s a reason why I have these standards,” Fuentes says softly, his eyes taking in the sunshine. “I’ve learned my lessons the hard way and I don’t need to go through those struggles again.” He inhales deeply and then nods. “I have two months probation before I’m locked into the contract. You have until then to show me that you and your wife are working on it.”
“Fuentes…”
“If not, I’ll walk.”
“You can’t do that. You’ll pay through your nose in contract fees.”
His frown is cruel. “You broke the contract, Mr. Bradley. I’m not the one who’ll suffer a loss.”
Bitterness churns through me.
He’s right.
If he leaves on these grounds, not only will the world know of my private life, but the company would suffer. I banked on Fuentes’s fame and gave him more than he asked for.
Fuentes pats me on the shoulder. “I can’t tell you what to do with your life, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do with mine. And I’ll be moving on if I don’t hear something solid from you. This is a deal breaker for me.” He lifts the phone and deletes the picture in front of me. “No more dirty laundry, Mr. Bradley.” Fuentes walks to the door and slams it shut.
As soon as he’s gone, I roar in frustration and toss anything I can get my hands on. Fuentes has me backed into a corner.
There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to scramble to.
Heart burning with the heat of a thousand suns, I grit my teeth and call my wife.
She answers on the third ring. “What do you want, Jerrison?”
“Doc.” The words scald my tongue, but I push them out anyway. “How soon can I make an appointment?”
