And prayed that would be enough.
* * * *
Dean tightened his grip on Silver as they circled around the dance floor, not missing the tears in Akira’s eyes. Or the way Oriana tried to pull away from Max, her eyes on her brother. There was something very wrong. Something he didn’t know anything about.
What though? This night had been planned so well, most of it by Silver herself. She’d taken care of every little detail. He tried to think of the very worst thing that could happen and came up blank. Yes, the team had lost a few games, but that was nothing new. He could see someone bringing up the Cobra’s failings bothering Oriana, but Akira would take it in stride. Because the Ice Girls would be on the ice until the last game, no matter what happened.
He’d mark it off as something personal for Akira, but that didn’t explain Oriana’s reactions. Or the way Ford was standing at the edge of the dance floor, careful not to look at Akira, looking like he expected . . . something.
“Dean?” Silver cupped his face in her hand, seeming to sense his concern. “What is it?”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Their life had been difficult enough. Silver had healed from her wounds. Landon . . . Dean spotted him near the refreshment table, standing by his sister who was on her phone. Becky covered her mouth with her hand. Her phone hit the floor.
Zach kept her on her feet by wrapping his arms around her. He spoke in her ear.
“Dean?” Silver latched on to Dean’s arms as he stopped moving. He reached for her hand and moved across the floor.
Landon tore his gaze away from his sister as Dean approached them. He looked torn, but he left his sister with Zach and met Dean a few feet away from them. “Dean, Becky just got off the phone with one of the reporters covering the mentorship program. There was an accident—”
“Is it one of the girls? One of the players?” Oh God. Scott. Dean took a step back, bringing Silver with him. “Max is here. But Scott—”
“Scott was with Tim and Madeline.” Landon moved with them. Put his arms around Dean. “Dean . . . your brother—”
“Scott was with them. Then he’s okay.” Dean carefully lowered Landon’s arms. Tim would have kept an eye on Scott. It was ridiculous to think Tim would let Scott drink and drive—and why would Scott be drinking at an event with children anyway? No wonder Becky was upset! What kind of father did that? “If Scott got drunk, we’ll suspend him. Give him a fine. He’ll learn. He loves your sister, but he still makes mistakes.”
“Dean—”
“We all make mistakes. Scott’s getting better.”
Becky was grabbing for her phone as it rang. She sat on her floor, the skirt of her mauve gown bunched around her knees. “They didn’t find him in the car? Then where . . . oh God! Are you sure?” Her bottom lip trembled. “Are they sure it’s . . . ? Okay. Thank you.” Becky let Zach help her to her feet. Let him hold her. “Dean . . . I—I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” Dean smiled at her. Clearly, Scott was okay. That was good. Scott was a good man. His whole body shook, but that was just nerves. The players . . . he cared about each and every one. Tim would be happy to know Scott was okay. The Ice Girls had arrived, so Tim should be here any minute. “With what Scott’s been through, I was a little worried that he’d done something foolish. But he is all right? The accident—”
Zach looked to Landon. Who hadn’t taken his eyes from Dean.
“An accident. The roads are icy. It happens.” Dean put his arms around Silver as she pressed against his side. She worried too much. With what she’d been through, it wasn’t good for her. “I should make a statement in the morning. Was anyone hurt?”
“Dean.” Landon placed both his hands on Dean’s shoulders. Made him stop moving. Made Dean face him. “Tim . . . he was on his way back with Madeline. A car turned into them. They went off the road—”
“Tim is a very good driver. I taught him.” Dean shook his head as he saw the pain in Landon’s eyes. He wanted to keep Landon from hurting. There was no reason for Landon to look so upset. “We were . . . he was sixteen. Middle of winter. I took him out in my mom’s car and he ended up in a snow bank. But he got better. We fixed the dents and she never knew—”
“Dean—”
“Next drive I went on with him—all black ice on the road—”
“Dean, the car was hit too hard. It flipped—”
“He righted the car. I was impressed. He listened to me, you know.” Dean’s throat locked. He forced out a laugh. “He knows how to handle himself out there. He was just sixteen, but he looked up to me. He knows how I am about bad drivers. He knew I wouldn’t let him go out on his own until I was sure he could handle himself.”
“There was nothing he could have done—”
“No. No, I taught him.” What is he saying? He isn’t saying it’s Tim. He can’t be saying that. He wouldn’t dare. “But he’s hurt? Where is he? I should go see him. I know my brother. He’ll try to be all tough.”
“They tried, but Tim and Madeline—they were already gone.”
“So he’s out of it. He looks bad. I can deal with that.” Dean knew Tim would be worried about Madeline. And the other driver. “Stay with Silver. And make sure Oriana is okay. I know they’ll be all worried about him, but I know my brother. It will bother him if anyone’s upset. The assistant coach will take care of the team. And we’ll make sure everyone else can deal with this. He’ll want to know we’re dealing with this.”
“Dean—”
“Landon, I love you, but I need to see my brother. Need to know he’s okay.”
“Dean.”
“Say that again and I’ll punch you, you bastard!” Dean pushed Landon away. Held his hand up to stop Silver when she tried to come to him. “Where is my brother?”
“He’s . . . let me take you to him.” Landon’s tone faltered. “I’ll go with you.”
I don’t need anyone to come with me. Tim is hurt. He needs me. Only me. Dean shook his head as he turned toward the door. His knee buckled. And there was a hand there to catch him as his strength gave out. Silver at one side. Landon at the other. Mother. Mom needs to know.
“Mom. Give me my phone. I need to tell her Tim . . .” He’s hurt. They haven’t seen him. “I’ll tell her I’ll be with him.”
“Let me call her, Dean. She likes me.” Silver took his phone as they went into the hall. “Stay with Landon. If you need to see Tim . . . Landon will be with you.”
“Of course I need to see Tim. You should see him too. He’s family.”
“He is.” Silver hesitated. “Do you want Jami to come with you?”
No. Dean quickly shook his head. If it was really bad . . . Tim had been a father to Jami when Dean couldn’t be. Dean wouldn’t pretend otherwise. He’d focused on his work, and Jami hadn’t had a mother. And there was always Tim. Tim who wouldn’t judge him but would tell him his daughter needed him to see her. And Dean hadn’t understood what that meant until now. Until he knew, Tim needed to tell him what he’d missed in his own daughter’s life.
“I need to ask Tim, he wanted to tell me—” What if he can’t? What if it’s too late? Dean pressed his fingers against his closed eyes. “Silver . . . let me tell Jami.”
“I will. Do you want me to come with you?” Silver stood between the door back into the ballroom and where Dean and Landon were standing. He had to tell her where to go. He wanted her with him. But he didn’t want Jami to be alone. “Where is Jami?”
“Sebastian and Luke are with her.” Silver’s voice broke. “They know . . . they won’t leave her.”
“Good. Good, she needs them. But I have to be the one to tell her . . .” He shook his head again. Landon. Silver. They wouldn’t be acting like this if Tim was okay. And if Tim was . . . Mom needed to know. “Damn it, what do I say? I can’t believe he’s—why upset them if he’s going to be fine?”
“He isn’t, Dean.” Landon put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “But you need to see him. I unde
rstand. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
The door opened behind Silver. Jami came into the hall holding Sebastian’s arm and Luke’s hand. She moved away from them both. “Dad? Are you okay?”
His baby. God, his poor baby. She was worried about him and he couldn’t allow that. His eyes were moist, but he managed to hold back tears as he pulled his daughter into his arms. And knew what he had to do.
“Jami, I was given some very bad news. Your Uncle Tim and Aunt Madeline were in an accident.” Dean inhaled slowly. Jami was looking up at him. Waiting for him to tell her they’d be all right. He wished he could, but that would hurt her more when she learned . . . when she learned the truth. “They died.”
Jami’s face lost all color. Dean held on to her, not sure if she’d pass out from the shock. Sebastian and Luke shifted a little closer to her. But she stayed on her feet, eyes wide. Drew in a sharp breath.
And let it out in a sob as her face crumpled. “No, Daddy . . . No! He can’t be. I just saw him this morning!”
“I know, baby.” He couldn’t breathe again until she returned to him, burying her face against his chest, trembling so violently he wanted to cradle her in his arms. Bring her home and tuck her into her bed. Find the words to make all the bad things go away, like he had when she was little. But he couldn’t make this better for her.
“Where is he? Can I see him?” Jami scrubbed her tears away with the heels of her palms, giving Dean a stubborn look that reminded him of his mother. And Tim. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. And her words weren’t that different than his had been. “This could be a mistake. Have you seen the body? You couldn’t have—you were here . . .”
Dean turned his gaze to the wall as those words “the body” shattered something inside him. Glass shards that didn’t cut, but became ice, freezing everything around them. Everything within. He managed to face Jami again. To nod. “You can come with me to see him. I’ll have to call the hospital to make sure it’s okay.”
“Let me take care of that, Dean,” Landon said softly, pulling his cell phone out of his tuxedo jacket. He glanced over at Luke. “Can you get Jami’s coat?”
Luke blinked at Landon, then nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go get it.” He leaned over to kiss Jami’s cheek. “I’ll be right back, boo.”
Jami stiffened, her eyes on Luke until he disappeared into the ballroom. She chewed at her bottom lip. “He can come, right, Daddy? Luke and Sebastian? Can they both come? I’m afraid if anyone goes . . .” A fresh tear trailed down her cheek. “Anyone goes, I might not see them again.”
“They can come.” Dean stroked Jami’s hair, waiting for Luke to return and for Landon to finish on the phone. He felt strangely calm. Almost as though they were waiting for an appointment with a lawyer. Or someone in the media. Something unpleasant, but something they could deal with quickly.
Until Landon hung up, his brow furrowing as he approached. “It will be a few hours before they’ll let anyone see . . . before anyone can see Tim. There’s an investigation and they have to examine the—examine him.”
“I didn’t approve that, Landon. I didn’t say you could approve that.” You’ll scare your daughter, Richter. Keep your cool. He would just call them back. “Let me speak to them. Tell them there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Landon swallowed hard, his gaze shifting from Dean’s. “It’s procedure, Dean. They don’t need the next of kin to approve it.”
“Procedure.” Of course. There’s procedure for these things. “Then we’ll wait. We’ll go to the hospital and . . . wait.”
Time passed in a blur once they left the hotel. At the hospital, in the waiting room, every time he looked at the clock it seemed like a huge gap of time had been stolen. Jami paced, then sat with him, then went back to her men. An endless cycle. Silver had called his mother, and in the next instant, she was there with his father. Tim’s was away on business. Dean should call him.
He recalled telling his mother he would make the call. Take care of anything she needed him to. And then they were allowed into the room. A private room.
To see Tim.
Only it wasn’t really Tim. The same face he’d seen smile at him so many times— laughter lighting up hazel eyes, now closed forever. Because what Landon had said . . . what he’d said at the very beginning . . .
It was true. Tim was already gone.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Watching Akira leave with Dominik, tears black with mascara running down her white cheeks, was one of the hardest things Ford had ever done. He’d stayed until the very end, saw the news spread. The players had all reacted differently. Dominik, thankfully, had nodded grimly when Luke had stopped to talk to him, then had taken Akira aside to tell her.
Across the room, a glass had shattered. Tyler’s dress shoes crunched through the glass as he’d tried to walk away from Raif Zovko. Raif hadn’t let him go far. Ford was a little surprised when he brought Tyler to the refreshment table, had him sit, and gave him a shot—but then again, Ford might have done the same. He’d wondered where Laura and Chicklet had gone, but hadn’t had time to dwell. Oriana had caught his eye, her own red-rimmed and still wide with shock. She’d slipped out of Max’s arms, as though to go to Ford.
The next hardest thing. Ford had turned and strode off in the other direction. Informed the waiters, and those in attendance, that due to the recent tragedy, the charity ball was over. He’d thanked one and all for coming. Told them there would be a press conference in the morning. He couldn’t be any closer to his sisters than he could be to Akira. They were already in danger. Being around them would only make things worse.
He’d have to handle things from here on alone. Couldn’t react to Tim’s death. Damn it, the man had been . . . just knowing him had changed Ford’s life. He wanted to be with his family, to take a fucking minute to let the loss set in, but the “car accident” was a little too conveniently timed. And if Kingsley had anything to do with it . . .
I have to be my father’s son right now. Just as cold and heartless as he is.
He’d been raised that way. There was no room for emotion. No loss, only . . . opportunities. The Kingsley motto got him out of there, on the road, but his guts twisted even as he pulled his car up in front of his father’s house. Seeing the lights on didn’t surprise him. When the man took action, he brooked no delay. Not even for sleep.
The butler answered the door at Ford’s first knock. Let him into the dining room, where his father was sitting with dozens of files spread out in front of him. The old man was a mess. His hair wasn’t combed. The wrinkles on his face looked even deeper, furrowing into the gray flesh around his eyes and his pursed lips. His dark blue suit wasn’t so perfectly fitted to his broad frame—as though he’d lost a drastic amount of weight.
Ford knew it was twisted, but it gave him some dark pleasure to see the bastard wasn’t doing well. It tightened his throat, but part of him wanted to see Kingsley just as broken as his real father, Anthony Delgado. Or worse. As much as the man deserved to suffer, the world would be a better place if he just fucking died.
But Kingsley’s tone was as strong and sharp as ever as he fixed Ford with a hard stare. “What do you want?”
“What do you think?” Ford dragged out the chair to his father’s right, slouching back, lazily taking out a cigarette and lighting it before he continued. “Cort fucking turned himself in.”
“Cort is an idiot. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“Because I’m not an idiot. You know why I called him back. I figured he could do the dirty work.” Ford let the smoke stream from his lips and cocked his head. “Jesus, Dad. I was trying to play nice with the fucking Delgados until the old bastard keeled over. Then you go and send those thugs after me.”
“You showed no interest in working with me after your mother died. You ignored my calls.” Kingsley slammed his fist on the table. “You sold our shares of the team!”
“Made me look real good, didn
’t it?” Ford smirked. He knew he was pushing, but his father was used to him either caving or being defiant. Defiance would work in Ford’s favor. If Kingsley was as desperate as Cort said, he’d be more than willing to buy the prodigal son act. With a little twist. “I’m not one of your goddamn lackeys, but . . . shit, Dad, I kinda like being alive. Can’t do much for you if I’m dead.”
Kingsley nodded, scrubbing his face with his hands and groaning. “My intention wasn’t to kill you. I was angry. A man should be able to rely on his son.”
For a second, Ford wanted to remind the man he’d taken every opportunity to point out that Ford wasn’t his son. But no. This was good. Ford had his way in. “You can. The team’s going down. We don’t need to go down with it.”
“It still has its uses.” Kingsley lifted his head, studying Ford for a few long moments. “More now. I take it you’ve heard they are without a head coach?”
I should be fucking taping this. Then again, Kingsley was being purposely vague. He wouldn’t trust Ford enough to tell him straight-out he’d had a hand in Tim’s death. Not yet, anyway. So Ford shrugged. “Sure it won’t take them long to find another one.”
“This is an excellent opportunity to put in our own man.”
“It is.”
Kingsley stood, pushing his chair in and pacing along the head of the table, raking his fingers through his hair irritably. “Or . . . they will likely use one of the assistant coaches temporarily. One is ready to retire. He might be willing to consider an offer.”
“He might, but I don’t think they’ll go into the playoffs with a temporary fix.”
“You’re assuming they’ll make the playoffs?” Kingsley stopped. Stared at Ford. “Do you think there’s still a chance?”
I’ve fucking got him. Ford smiled slyly, letting out a wide circle of smoke. “Dad, I can pretty much guarantee it.”
* * * *
Akira’s hands shook as she accepted a mug of warm milk, sweetened with sugar and a dash of nutmeg, from Dominik. He sat across the round table from her, elbows on the surface, chin on his clasped hands. They hadn’t said a word to each other since she’d stopped crying. And thinking of what had made the dam break had her shaking even harder.
Delayed Penalty (The Dartmouth Cobras #5) Page 37