It Never Seems
It's been a long, long time, I know. Real life with a full-time job and living situations happened. For anyone who's still reading, I sincerely apologize for the long hiatus. I will try my hardest to not keep a year-long wait on updates.
Enjoy.
CAli
Ch. 10 – The Stalking
May 31st, 2009 – The Northwest
For as long as he could remember, Nathan was never one to show nervousness. With a father like Dan Scott, showing nervousness was the ultimate sign of weakness. Be stone-cold, facial features dead-on to the point of evil, and most of all, look like you don't give a fuck. The very same mantra still haunted him years after cutting his dad out of his life. It was like being nervous was foreign to him; he simply could not show it because of his dad so he only knew confidence. The tall swagger, the arrogant smirk, and the condescending twinkle in his eyes were the three main features that made his signature confident stance.
But here he was, nervousness jittering every nerves down his arms as he paced back and forth like a bitch. Tony was late. He asked his teammate to meet him early in the team's locker room with the package he so much desired since he decided he was going to fight the night before. He wasn't exactly for sure how he was going to fight for his family, but this was a start. He needed to know everything before he could get some sort of stepping stone. He was paranoid as it was but if Tony didn't get here in the next five minutes then the doubt would start to settle in that he royally fucked up.
He knew leaving early would cause suspicion among Dante's goons but he hoped if he started a pattern that they would think he was starting a new pattern due to the playoffs. And if Tony came any later, then they would definitely become suspicious on his downtime. Nathan heavily sighed as he sat down and leaned forward from his sitting position then changed his mind and leaned back. The new position allowed his right leg to bounce up and down at a decent speed.
Hurry the fuck up, Nathan thought as his eyes zoned in on his bouncing leg. His thigh jiggled and slapped against the wooden bench as his entire leg picked up speed before it abruptly stopped when he sprang up to stand. His clammy hands roughly rubbed against his face as he let out another antsy sigh and began to pace again. Every so often he looked at his watch and it seemed like hours until a minute went by.
He uncomfortably swallowed a knot in his throat as something told him someone was lurking by. He hoped to God it wasn't Dante's goons checking on him. If they saw his behavior now, for sure a beating would follow. Dante couldn't know what he was up to, or the fact that he was determined to kill him and break free once and for all.
He was going to kill Dante. His eyes hardened at the rebellious thought. He just didn't know how yet, but first and foremost was to get to his family first. In order to do that, he needed to do some stalking. Echoing footsteps broke him out of his sinister thoughts of slicing Dante's throat and his breath hitched as he anticipated that it was Tony who was approaching the room. He had no idea he was holding his breath when he exhaled a long breath.
"Hey, man," Tony said as he approached. "Sorry I was later than I thought."
"I don't care as long as you have it," Nathan said in a gruff tone. The gruffness was still the result in crying for days, even though his last tears were a couple days ago. "Do you have it?"
"Of course," he handed a small plastic bag that was wrapped tightly against the product. "I even hid it when I came in like you asked."
"Thanks," Nathan eagerly grabbed the bag as he pulled the cash from his pocket and handed it to his teammate. "You have no idea how much you're doing for me."
"You're welcome, Keith."
There was silence as Nathan haphazardly tore into the plastic bag and pulled out a new version of a notebook. The small computer was exactly what he needed to keep track of his wife and son on American Idol. The internet research he could do was endless as he already memorized all the message boards and gossips sites that favored the behind the scenes of the show. He'll even settle on stalking Ryan Seacrest, Simon Cowell, Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul, and Kara DioGuardi if it meant just a background shot of his family. Anything just to keep the hope and strength he needed to break free.
As he stared at his newest ally like he won the best treasure in the whole world, Tony quietly cleared his throat. Reluctantly, he looked up at his teammate and noticed the quizzical concern on his face. It was the last thing he needed to deal with, so he sneered and gave him a sharp "what?" It seemed like no matter how hard he tried, he still had a little of Dan's darkness inside him.
"I know Keith is not your real name," Tony said quietly. "I always knew there was a lot to you, now I'm afraid exactly what it is that's to you."
"You don't want to know."
"I know you're Nathan Scott, Haley James's husband."
The way he said his real title left him in a fury. He had no idea he dropped his merchandise, or that he practically flew across the room, or the fact that he had Tony shoved against a cubby, toppled over him in an awkward angle that had them both in a downward slope thanks to the bolted wooden bench. He pinned his teammate in a rage and gritted his teeth as he harshly whispered that he shut his mouth right now.
"Do not say that name again!" He snarled. "Saying that name will get you killed, I swear to God. And I will not have your blood on my hands. Keep your mouth shut, Tony. Please, for what you know is good, keep your mouth shut."
"You're in some deep shit," Tony gasped, albeit calmly. "I know that. You don't have to threaten me, Keith. I told you long ago I have your back. That stands true still, even with your fingers around my throat."
His wife's eyes flashed before him with shades of disappointment and he immediately let go and scrambled away. It was a difficult task, as he had no footing because of the bench and he wound up falling on his back after he exerted enough force. He quickly scrambled back up to his feet and the sorrow shone from his eyes. He had a hard time breathing as every intake seemed to hitch at the burst of violence he just showed. He opened his mouth to apologize but Tony waved his hand and gingerly pulled himself up.
"I don't understand what you're going through," Tony said after he cleared his throat. "But I know it's layered with spider webs. And I'm here to help any way I can. The only time you ever showed emotion was when you saw Haley James. You don't belong here."
"I belong with my family," he said quietly as he bowed his head.
"And I'll help you get there. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. You have a friend, Keith. Don't forget that."
He could only nod. He felt his teammate's presence closer but couldn't bear to look at him just yet. He felt the hesitation but stayed completely still. His teammate's hand clamped onto his shoulder and stayed several seconds before he felt a squeeze then the contact disappeared. He should feel elated that he had someone in his corner that didn't ask too many questions. But all he felt was the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He had no idea what it all meant, but it wasn't something he needed to worry about at the moment.
If he wanted a change, he had to do something about it. So he picked up the notebook and started the registration process. Unfortunately, practice was going to begin soon. He was going to have to do his stalking after a grueling three-hour regimen.
I'm coming, Haley. Just hold on a little longer. I will fight for you, baby. I will fight for my family.
He hoped prayers still worked, even if he gave up on God.
June 2nd, 2009 – The Northwest
Nathan couldn't concentrate and he took the punishment for it. The practices and the first game after his renewed promise to get his family back brutally killed his mental focus. All he thought about was getting back to his prized computer and stalk his wife and son. Once Dante noticed the significant lack of focus and he almost blew 50 grand by coming very close to fouling out, he realized just out of control his mind wandered. The beating Dante got his goons to give him was certainly a reminder, even after a few days there was still a slight wince in his ribs if he twisted his torso too far. He knew – now than ever – that he had to keep sharper focus. The close-call with Dante was enough to reel him back in.
He had to be extra careful if he was going to break free. He couldn't stand Dante's glare as it was, but when those dark eyes narrowed to almost slits compared to snake eyes because of his fuck-up, fear literally shivered up his spine. Dante would kill his family if he knew what he discovered. Haley's head in the middle of those crosshairs all those years ago flashed through his mind. He swallowed hard at the thought that the man who ruined his life wouldn't take mercy if he was caught. Dante wouldn't shoot Haley. He'd slice her throat right in front of him and shoot his son point-blank in the middle of his forehead. He would do it agonizingly slow, too; he fantasized that Dante would want them to beg for their life and all he could do was watch.
It was, after all, what Nathan could be capable of doing: just watch. All he did was sat idly by as his family was taken from him and he did the bidding of a true sadistic psychopath. He couldn't fight as fear gripped his whole body and shame tightened his heart. Four years and counting until he saw his wife belt out the most impressive note he heard in his entire life on TV.
A week ago, as he laid on the cold, desolate concrete floor and panted trying to get breath back, he looked up at the stone-cold glare of Dante's face. There wasn't much light in the warehouse, as there never was, but he saw clear as a cloudless sky. The sinister grin that twitched at the corners of his mouth, the glint of glee in his soulless eyes, and the twitch in his jaw as he stared disgustedly down on him, that Dante was starting to think something was going on with him. As he stared defiantly back (even though the look on his face showed tiredness and disgrace), he started to think really about what he was doing. He was going to kill Dante one day and get his family back but he needed to be more than careful as of now.
If he was going to stand up and fight, he would have to do it diligently. That meant grace and calculation. He let out a guttural groan as another sharp kick connected to his ribs and he let his whole body crumbled down in pathetic heap. Dante full-out laughed at the move and he kept his head down as he smirked. He needed Dante to know he was still broken; have him let his guard down.
It was the only way he knew on how to save his family.
June 5th, 2009 – The Northwest
He was okay with pretending to be Dante's bitch. That was the difference now: pretending. Before he was and he was okay with that notion, too, but like everything he thought about his life and who he was going to be, Haley changed his outlook. She literally brought light into everything. It was the only thing that passed his mind as he watched her sing her auditions on his secret computer.
All his internet research reached a cap in less than 24 hours. He spent waking seconds searching everything he could get his hands on. He was distracted with every paparazzo pictures he could scourge of the judges hoping to get a glance of his wife and son. Hell, he'd even settle on his brother. He would read message boards even though all they ever talked about was who was hot and what song they chose. He got a significant amount of people's opinions on his wife's singing, and they were all positively good, however it lacked substance. The words they wrote about his wife were vague and didn't truly capture the descriptions that her singing deserved, so he quickly moved on.
His refuge, and the one thing that caused the most distractions, was the streaming of past episodes. He was tempted to be glued to his TV and watch the broadcast version but he was too paranoid that Dante had access to his TV schedules. If parents can track what shows their kids watch, he wouldn't put pass Dante to do the same. So he had to wait a whole 24 hours before the new episode streamed on the FOX website. It was pure torture, but he decided that every little pre-caution was necessary after the beating he took a couple days ago. At least he had refuge in re-watching from the beginning her auditions whenever he wanted. He literally did watch whenever he wanted which was practically even downtime he had to breathe.
He took a long breath as his wife practically killed another audition song. He held his breath and his finger slowly reached out and stroked down where her cheek was on the screen. Tears formed in his eyes as the emotions crossed her face as she flawlessly hit every tempo change of the song. Her singing always calmed everything inside him and even now it was doing its job. He felt so at peace even though he was far from it as her voice boomed through his tiny speakers. His heart broke a little as he noticed there was some sort of sadness in her vocals every time she sang and that British dick seemed to notice too every time the camera panned to him. He knew why Haley was sad and it brought even more determination and resolve to get her back.
He thickly swallowed when she finished her song and bit his lip to prevent the tears from falling. Every time he saw his beautiful wife sing on his computer, happy memories flashed before his eyes even when all her songs were sad. How could she be so sad and happy at the same time? How was she still strong as ever, standing there, singing her ass off for a chance of stardom? It was her strength that always pulled him along, and it was no different now.
"Thank you," he whispered. "You always were my angel. Stay strong, my beautiful baby. I'm coming for you."
He just hoped a plan would come soon. He couldn't stand it when his baby cried and every song she sung seemed to break her heart more and more. He wanted to heal her; have her singing with happiness in her voice, just like the old days, even when she did leave him to sing on tour. Even then, she sung with happiness.
He could torture himself with guilt and angst, but he would do absolutely anything to get rid of her sadness. Anything to see the happiness again; to have it shine through every pore on her face.
Each day, his confidence grew and it was because of his Haley.
June 7th 2009 – The Northwest
Even though he decided he wasn't going to watch the live broadcasts, it didn't stop Nathan from voting like a madman. His secret computer was his weapon, as he became customed to refreshing the browser once 10 p.m. came around. He would literally spend the two-hour voting time online or even feigned cell phone problems and would use his teammate's phone on the days they traveled. Wednesday was his second favorite day; his first, Thursday, when the live show streamed online and he watched his wife take the stage and absolutely blow everyone's minds whenever that soulful voice belted out the lyrics.
He was literally becoming mad with want. His wife was so beautiful and passionate whenever she sang but he realized – with that heavy twinge in his heart – now just how haunting she sounded. It wasn't necessarily bad and even though the guilt was slowly disappearing, he still couldn't help but feel responsible. He knew she wasn't truly happy, that much was evident every time he heard the sadness intertwined in her vocals and it was because of him. He always encouraged her to follow her dreams, her passion: her music. Whenever it was just the two of them, he practically begged her to sing because it was the only thing that brought hope and joy in his life. He would tell her that, too, every chance he got. Even if it was just a hum during a tutoring session or them cuddled together watching a movie, he'd want her to sing because it brought peace within him. Even in bed, he would cuddle against her chest and ask her to sing him to sleep because it would relax him and remind him how lucky he was to have her.
Music was everything to her, and he made sure she sang because that what made her happy. When she left him for that tour, he was devastated, sure, but deep down he was immensely proud because she took a chance and followed her dreams. Quite honestly, that's all he ever wanted but when he found out she was on American Idol and got his first taste of her singing in the last four years, he heard it immediately.
He didn't feel guilt anymore. All he felt was hatred because when he heard her sadness, he knew it was because of him. It was a motivating tool; it got him pumped and determined, but he still felt a little weak. Maybe he'll never come to terms with what he did, but music and Haley should never have the word sadness as a description. After all, all this strength building was for her. He could live in misery and self-loathing all he wanted, but if it meant getting over his pity party to give her back her passion, then he would do everything and anything in his power to get back to her.
If leaving caused her sadness in her music then he was going to come back with a vengeance to have her gain it back. All he wanted was his wife to sing with happiness. He wanted the happiness, even if he never deserved it.
The weeks blended into the same. Without fail, it didn't matter when and if he had more pressing matters at hand; all he thought about was getting to his secret computer and watching his wife sing. YouTube became his favorite stalking tool. Hundreds of videos upon videos came up with the separate individuals of their set-list, and to his glee, most of them were of Haley. He would get so lost in how energetic she was, how she commanded the stage with some rocking power vocals or the softness whenever she sang a love ballad. One user- God bless him or her- made a compilation video of all her recent performances so far into the season and he would have that video on replay for the majority of his day. He had Tony buy all her songs on ITunes and paid him back in cash and he would listen to her performances while he worked-out. He would fall asleep with her melodic voice thrumming through his earbuds.
It got to the point that if he concentrated real hard, he would imagine her right next him, softly singing into his ear with her genuine, in-love smile. She would laugh after she sang a bar, which would drift out into an affectious giggle just like she used to. When he laid in bed, with his earphones still jammed deep into his ear canal, he'd hug his pillow and imagine it was her soft body that would meld into his arms. If he really, really concentrated, he could feel the ghost of her touch and for once his body would lax.
Maybe he was going mad because every time he opened his eyes and blinked as the familiar surroundings focused back in, his heart would grow heavy and drop to his stomach even though it felt like an endless journey. Everything he imagined seemed so real, so content, so…present. This life without his wife wasn't going to make it, soon. Each passing day was getting harder that his wife wasn't there to hold him tight while he slept. Hell, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like to hold his son. He missed every developing moment but he craved the doting nature his son seemed to possess every time they showed segments between him and his mom or uncle. He imagined what it would be like to wake up with his son jumping on him, not in terror every time a loud knock echoed his apartment.
He was starting to develop an alternative reality and that's why he was going crazy. As each day passed, it was starting to become more real. The waking up in peace and in harmony because his wife's fingers were stroking his cheek. The joy that spread throughout his body as his son asked for a piggyback ride to the backyard to shoot some hoops. The love that filled everything inside him and made his skin crawl with delighted tingles every time his wife held him in a hug and sang. It was starting to become real, even if they started off as dreams. Even when he wasn't sleeping, the happiness at being with his family was starting to jack his mind as he would just blankly stare in front of him more oftentimes then not.
It had to be a sign; it had to be his body and mind subconsciously telling him to break free. This had to be the breaking point because he couldn't keep coming back to the real reality that he was living in right now. It was becoming too hard waking up in tears because he couldn't feel her after he woke up. It was becoming too hard acting like everything was fine when someone waved a hand over his face to see if he was okay.
He needed to get his family back and soon, or else he'd really go mad.
June 30th, 2009 – The West Coast
Nathan felt his nerves vibrating throughout his entire body and it had nothing to do with this Western finals. He had no idea how his team got this far with his ever-growing obsession with his wife and American Idol, but they were five games away from the NBA finals and per Dante's request, he was to do sub-par until the final game where he, like a leader, would carry his team in celebration then preparation for the prestigious title. His instructions left him literally cold as something swam in his evil eyes.
Nathan was nervous as it was when he learned who also advanced in the playoffs and the first game would be on their home-court. He almost hyperventilated when he found out what hotel they were staying at for the next two days. A plan was supposed to be forming right about now but after his meeting with Dante, he was shit out of luck. Not only he wouldn't know what to do once they arrived, he had no idea how he would shake Dante's goons as it was. His heart sank once he realized he was going to be watched and agonized over how stupid he could be. The last four years, without fail, Dante's goons would follow him to every away game. He couldn't be trusted by himself, so why would he think this time would be different.
It was a sign he was way too invested in re-kindling his need to hear his wife sing.
As he approached the hotel, he thickly swallowed and coughed several times as the motion got stuck in his throat. Sweat was starting to perspire as the bus slowed to a stop and security guards started to form a narrow, cleared path for the team and started shouting at the fans who showed up to give shit and show their pride to their hometown team. He was one of the last to stand up as he shouldered his duffel bag and literally stopped at the edge of the aisle. What was he gonna do once he entered that hotel lobby?
"Keith, you okay?" A teammate sounded to his left.
Nathan took a shaky inhale of breath before he snapped his gaze to the man. "Yeah," his voice sounded rough. "Why?"
"You're like, frozen in fear."
"No, I'm not."
"Then start moving, dude. You're holding up."
His lips felt very chapped so he swiped his tongue and stiffly nodded. He forced his feet to move one over the next and once again, his breathing felt stuck after two strides. His lips dried up again as he forcefully gripped the side railing as he stepped down the bus. The thundering boos somewhat gave comfort to his obvious discomfort, although it was only a few seconds of reprieve as he walked the path in numbness. Security guards were yelling at any offending sports fan and slapping hands away and honestly, it was like any other entrance for him every time his team arrived at their opponent's hometown. They seemed rowdier now and he almost leveled in the insults because at least it was familiar territory. All too soon, though, it was all too over and he arrived at the front doors of the hotel.
He hesitated once again as his breathing labored and his heart raced. Will he see them? It was a big hotel that was famed for their discreetness when it came to their celebrity clientele so there was a huge possibility he wouldn't even get a glance. But the very fact remained the same and he was almost there but not. The anticipation of it all could very much set him off. He had no plan, no back-up plan if Dante's goons stepped in and the last look he saw of his boss told him that he should be very careful.
He had impulses, though, and he could never really control them when it came to Haley.
With a nudge from his teammate, he stepped through the threshold and held his breath. His eyes scanned the lobby, his muscles tensed and nerves changed to excitement that maybe, just maybe an act of God would happen.
It did, in a fleeting, smallest form. His chest rose on an intake of breath and stayed suspended once he noticed. As his eyes scanned, with barely-masked anticipation, he saw in a quick glance the side profile of his brother entering the lobby bathroom.
End Chapter 10
Again, my apologies. Please review if you'd like.
CAli