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I didn't have my keys or my phone, not even my wallet. All of those were still being secured by the police inside Brisé. I could walk to the fucking hospital, but I didn't want to risk scaring Giselle by showing up.
So I stomped across the park and headed into her building. I got on the elevator and hit the button for the top floor.
The elevator lifted up quickly since it was late and no one else was trying to hit the buttons, so before I knew it, the doors were opening to the apartments on the top floor.
Marching straight to the second door, I started banging and yelling, loud enough I wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors heard me in the other apartment.
After a few minutes, the door flew open and Coach was standing there in nothing but his boxers, rubbing the sleep from his face.
“What the fuck?” He yelled, before calming a bit when he saw the state I was in.
“Giselle was shot,” I breathed.
His eyes widened and he moved so I could enter the apartment. I had only ever been here once and it was when I needed to drop something off to Coach.
As close as Coach and I had gotten, it wasn't normal for a player to hang out with their coach. It was like a boss hanging with the people they supervised. In most workplaces, it created a blurry line and this was no different.
But when it came down to it, Coach treated us like a dad and that was why he pulled me in and sat me down. He poured me some water and sat with me as I started to explain the whole evening.
From the first night Giselle told me about—the night she met Coach—right down to the morning I was hiding in Giselle’s apartment when he knocked, I left no stone unturned. This wasn't a matter of saving my football career by distancing myself from Mike, or what would inevitably be a media storm.
This was about Coach being the only other person in town that knew both me and Giselle. He was the only person I trusted and the only person I could turn to. I needed him to help me figure out what was going on. I needed him to talk to her, check on her, and make sure she got whatever she wanted.
I assumed they had called her mom, but I was still unclear on how well they got along. Maybe that didn't matter in this circumstance, maybe she would drop everything and come to be with her.
But I knew in my case, if I had been buried six feet deep, neither my mom nor dad would give two shits.
“Fuck!” Coach, who had put on loose sweatpants before we had our chat, stood up from the table and started pacing. “This is all my fault.”
Ok, I wasn't expecting that to come out of his mouth and I wasn't sure why in the hell he thought he was at fault. Because he involved me? Fuck, that couldn’t be true because my presence alone had saved Giselle on more than one occasion.
My being there was a fucking gift.
Until I let her down.
“The night I met her, I knew something was off. She was frazzled and a little disheveled. Shit I originally stopped her to ask if she was ok. But the moment she spoke, she seemed fine. Completely. She carried herself perfectly and was so poised and put together that any concerns I had immediately fell away.”
“That’s her ‘Ballerina Facade,’” I bit, almost angry with her for being so good at being perfect. “She would never have let you see her undone.”
“I just assumed she was tired. She was still dressed as if she had just got off work and the more I spoke to her, the more I let any worry about her fall away. I ended up being more worried about what she could do for you.”
“It didn't matter, there wasn't anything we could have done that first night. She had already called the cops and we had no way of knowing Mike was behind it.”
With everything we knew now, I just didn't understand how he thought any of it was his fault. All he did was ask her to give me ballet lessons.
Then again, Coach was Coach. He may not have been her coach but he was a good dude that took care of everyone around him. Almost to a fault.
He never looked after himself and I assumed that was how he was so successful as a younger coach in the league, but lacked many significant people in his personal life.
“So wait,” he leaned back and eyed me. “You were there the morning I stopped by?”
I snorted, the first semi-laugh I attempted since this night went to shit. “I was hiding behind her couch like you had X-ray vision and when I pulled her down, she just hid with me.”
That was the first time I realized I could fall for her.
“Because you knew I would ring your neck for fucking your dance instructor?”
“I know how protective you get of people in your circle. I knew if you were asking her to do you a favor, then you wouldn’t want me fucking it up by being a dick.”
