UNSPORTSMANLIKE CONDUCT (Gods of the Gridiron Book 1)

Home > Other > UNSPORTSMANLIKE CONDUCT (Gods of the Gridiron Book 1) > Page 17
UNSPORTSMANLIKE CONDUCT (Gods of the Gridiron Book 1) Page 17

by Shanna Swenson


  Geraci laughed heartily. “Right. And I double as Mary fuckin’ Poppins. Tell me the truth or things are gonna get bloody.” Geraci’s smile faded, the bull was stomping his hoof.

  Fuck, Travis cursed his damn mouth as he watched Sky’s frightened face.

  “Are you, or are you not, Travis’s lover, Ms. Larson?”

  “I—” Sky hesitated, and Geraci’s eyes narrowed. Shit. They were gonna die. Right fucking here and now. “Mr. Geraci, I swear, I wasn’t…until the cabin.”

  Geraci belted out into another fit of laughter, bending double before he righted himself and wiped his eyes. Travis was slowly starting to despise the sound of his nasally laugh.

  “Lovers by convenience. What a coincidence! So, you knew nothing about me blackmailing him to lose his football games?”

  Sky simply shook her head.

  “I’m sure he told you that I have his brother.”

  “Yes. Is he alive?” Sky’s eyes held Geraci’s, and Travis’s heart stood still.

  “He’s a bit banged up but he’ll live…probably,” Geraci dismissed.

  Travis breathed a sigh of relief.

  Sky continued, “I heard you’ve been laundering money, extorting others like Travis. You’re part of an underground sex-trafficking ring, among other things.”

  “I’m a business man, Ms. Larson.”

  “Right. And I double as Mary fuckin’ Poppins.”

  “Ooh, wee! We got a live one here, boys.” Geraci chuckled and looked Sky over like she was a decadent treat. Travis felt his anger surge. “Those redheads.” Geraci’s eyes came to Travis’s, and Trav narrowed his in return. “You know, don’t you? You greedy bastard.” Geraci pointed to Travis. “Well, perhaps, she’s worth sharing.”

  Fuck! No, not that. Dammit. And now he was tied down and could do nothing.

  “Mr. Geraci, why did you kill that trucker? Were you aiming for Travis?” Sky interceded, the lawyer in her taking charge of the witness.

  “Of course not! Travis can’t die. He’s our star attraction. He’s gonna continue to be my pawn and lose or win games as I see fit. That is, if he wants his brother to live…”

  “And how is he supposed to do that?” Sky smarted. “When he’s wanted for the questioning of a murder?”

  Geraci smiled. “You are such a clever girl. No worries. His record will be expunged. You’ll make sure of that, won’t you, ADA Larson?” He winked. “Your lover didn’t do anything wrong, after all.”

  “And why did you kill him to begin with? Travis’s record wouldn’t need to be expunged if you hadn’t killed an innocent man for no fucking reason other than a scare tactic.”

  “Ms. Larson, you try my patience. I’m sure you’ve heard of the term ‘collateral damage.’ The trucker was just that. Nothing more.”

  “Collateral damage means the trucker wasn’t the target. So, you admit you were aiming for your golden boy?” Sky’s brows went up. “Let me guess: you thought he’d planned to meet me in the bar and decided his number was up before he spilled the beans to me?”

  Geraci stilled for a moment then removed his cigar and put it on the coffee table. He stood and began to applaud. “Well done, Ms. Larson. And that’s why you’ll make DA soon enough. I can help with that too, if you’d like.”

  Sky gasped then frowned. “Murder isn’t the answer to everything, Geraci.”

  “It is when you’re counted on to do whatever it takes to keep the business running.”

  “So, you admit to murdering five people?” Sky rattled off their names rapidly. “All because they, like Travis, were going to ‘rat you out’.” She lifted her hands to air quote her words.

  Geraci’s eyes narrowed once more. “I admit to doing what’s necessary to keep the order. Murder, extortion, fraud, I’ve done it all. And there’s been far more than five. But who’s counting?”

  A look of victory crossed Skyla’s face; it was so fast and fleeting that one would’ve missed it had they not known her as well as Travis did. She cleared her throat and looked down though, as if she were disappointed. “Did that trucker have a family?”

  “Who the fuck knows?” Geraci shrugged. “Now, how do I plan to punish my mouthy star athlete here? What can I possibly do to make him understand that I won’t tolerate insubordination?” Geraci put his fat hand to his double chin, in thought. “I mean, I can’t harm him physically, I need him healthy. And I can’t kill my ADA, not when I can extort her, too. What a conundrum.”

  Travis gulped; he didn’t like where this was leading.

  Sure enough, Geraci’s smirk made Travis’s stomach drop as he eyed Skyla and licked his lips. “Come to me, my dear.” He opened his hand, and Sky eyed it wearily but didn’t move.

  Kane, the tall man, approached then bowed his head obediently. “Uh, Gio, I don’t ask for much, but…”

  Geraci laughed. “Kane, my loyal subject, I forgot! You like redheads, don’t you? Does this decadent little morsel interest you?”

  Travis yelled behind his gag, scooting forward.

  “She does, indeed.” Kane moaned as his eyes moved over Sky with open interest. He adjusted himself in his pants, and Travis full out growled, leaning across a cowering Skyla in a futile attempt to shield her.

  “Alright then. I guess you can test her out before I have my turn. You’ve got thirty minutes. See, Mr. Redmond, loyalty is rewarded.” Geraci scowled, and Travis yelled again as Kane drew nearer. Travis out-bulked him by much, but was helpless with his arms pinned behind his back.

  He pushed up off the couch and rammed at Kane’s middle, planting his trunk-like legs. Kane was able to shuck him off after long moments of struggling. After all, Travis was a powerful running back; pushing through and breaking tackles was his forte. Kane flipped him back onto the couch, onto his belly, and dug a knee into his ass cheek. It hurt, but nothing hurt as much as the thought of another man touching Skyla, probing her, violating her body. It made Travis insane with rage. He continued to fight until the bulky dude jerked him up and held him fast, making him watch as Kane took Skyla’s hand. She stood, looking up at her soon-to-be-violator as tears ran down her cheeks. She wasn’t fighting. She was and had always been smarter than him. She knew if she fought, it would only be more painful for her.

  Travis’s anger peaked as Kane drew nearer to her and fingered a tear on Skyla’s cheek. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m gonna make this all worth your while.” He leaned in and kissed her, and Sky froze. She looked up at him; it didn’t seem like fear or reproach or dread…it looked like…recognition? Did she know this guy? What the hell was happening? As soon as the moment happened, it was over. Kane gripped the back of her neck and turned them. “Thanks, boss. I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of this sexy ginger.”

  With the slam of the door, Travis’s fight left him and his heart broke into a million pieces. The woman he loved—he suddenly realized—was going to be raped, taken, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He fell, heavy onto the couch as the sheer magnitude of his hopelessness ate him like a cancer. They were here because of him, because he’d been too afraid to go to the authorities in the first place. They’d ran because he’d told them to.

  He lowered his head, knowing that with everything that had happened, the biggest regret he had was not admitting, after she told him she loved him in the van, that he felt the same exact damn way about her.

  Skyla sniffled and tried to dampen the panic rising in her throat as she was led down the stairs and into a dark room beneath the staircase.

  She had to play it cool and disarm him at just the right time, using the self-defense moves she’d learned years ago. She tried to remember where on his back he kept his gun holstered. She flinched when the light came on and heard Kane close the door behind them, fighting the need to evacuate the bile threatening her throat.

  Stay calm, she told herself. Wait for the right moment. Don’t blow it.

  But the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she felt his presence behind her
. Before she could stop and think, she was whirling around, knee up, ready to shove his balls into his throat. His hands blocked her motion, and she protested with a battle cry as her right fist shot out towards his jaw. He blocked that, too. Dammit!

  “Skyla, stop.” Kane gripped her hand and spun her around, pulling her arm to her back and disabling her. She cried out again, terror ripping through her chest as his hand came to her throat and held her still as her back hit his chest. “Shh, calm down. It’s me. Agent Mathers,” he whispered into her ear.

  Agent Mathers! Agent Mathers? He was FBI! Oh, thank God! The relief she felt was bone deep, for although she’d never met the man, she’d heard his name many times from Jeffers in the past. “Mathers, oh my—” her sigh came out on a strangled sob.

  “Shh, not too loud. Everything’s gonna be fine. We got what we needed.” When he turned her around, Skyla looked up at him, confused. He pointed to his chest. “I’m wired.” He put his index finger to his lips and gave her a smile.

  Again, she blew out her breath. Everything Geraci had said, everything he’d confessed to, had been recorded; someone was on the other end of the line, hearing them right now. She covered her mouth, overcome with overwhelming emotion. They were gonna be saved. She wasn’t going to die. She wasn’t going to be raped. Travis wasn’t going to die. They were gonna get out of this!

  “I love you, DA Jeffers,” she whispered into the mic. “I can’t wait to see you again.” The happy tears ran down her face and she let them, for once not ashamed of her emotional side. But as she looked up at Mathers she knew they still had roles to play before the cavalry came. “Tucker?” she asked.

  “In bad shape, but alive. I did the best I could.”

  Oh, God, what did that mean? Skyla fearfully looked around at the sorry excuse for a “bedroom” to the bed in the corner of the concrete store room. The cracked wooden frame looked as if it’d seen better days. She almost gagged at the thoughts of who and what had gone on atop the stained cream comforter. She looked away and rubbed her arms.

  “How long do we have before they’re here?” she asked.

  “ETA is a half hour.”

  She nodded. “Alright.” She took a deep breath in. “What do I need to do?”

  Geraci had tried to make small talk while Travis waited for the earth to split open and swallow him whole. The entire time he’d thought of nothing but the sheer horror Skyla was experiencing, his stomach threatening to unload its contents, straining against the gag in his mouth. Tears stung his eyes, and he hated himself for every wrong he’d ever done; but he’d never hated himself as much as he did at this moment. The two people he loved most were being held against their will, being hurt because of him. He’d never felt more miserable.

  Just when he thought he couldn’t take another second of the despair within him and was complacent to let Geraci’s steroid-filled crony blow his head right off, the door opened and his gut jerked at the dishevelment that Skyla was in.

  Travis fell to his knees, his legs giving out as she was shoved inside the office, head lowered, her clothes hanging off her frame. He couldn’t see her face but he heard her sniffles, saw the tears in her jeans and the rips in her shirt, and swore to God above he was gonna kill the smug bastard behind her for ever laying a hand on her.

  “Ah, there you are. I was starting to wonder if you’d ran off with her,” Geraci remarked, looking back at Travis with a self-satisfied grin.

  “Sorry, boss,” the man called Kane chuckled cynically. “She put up a good fight. I might’ve got a little carried away.” He adjusted himself in his slacks, and Travis roared, ready to kill him.

  “Uh uh,” bulky boy gritted his teeth and pointed the gun at Travis, who shook with the rage that overtook him. “Control yourself or your little girlfriend’s gonna get to see me plaster your face all over that sofa.”

  “Now now, Biggs, easy. Put the gun away. Our ‘god of war’ here is just letting out his frustrations, seeing as he’s been dethroned.” Geraci chuckled again, and Travis growled over at him.

  If it weren’t for the horror that Skyla had already been through, Travis would’ve sprinted over to Geraci, tackled him to the floor, and beaten his fat nose into his skull, using only his forehead as a weapon. Hell, he was The Ram after all.

  “A king doesn’t like sharing his queen, am I wrong?” Geraci smirked and stood. “Looks like it’s my turn now.” His gray eyes burned into Travis’s, and that’s when he made his move. He would be damned if he simply stood by and watched while yet another man took the woman he loved out that damn door again; he would die before he watched it happen twice.

  He shoved with all his might to lift his big frame off the floor, engaging every muscle in his core, thankful he was strong enough to do so.

  He heard Skyla’s scream and the blast of a gun behind him as he launched himself at Geraci and knocked him to the ground.

  That’s when absolute chaos erupted all around him: glass splintered, metal clashed, shouts echoed, fog blanketed, and darkness followed. Gunshots ricocheted, the sounds of footfalls thundered around his head. He closed his eyes, waiting for death to take him.

  Travis wasn’t aware of how long the struggle lasted or exactly what the hell was happening. He only knew when silence followed and he was jerked roughly up, his restraints and gag were removed simultaneously.

  “Mr. Redmond? Travis! Are you ok?” It was Kane who was asking. And Travis growled, balling his fists. “Easy there, Ares. I’m Special Agent Casey Mathers, FBI. It’s over. We got him.”

  “What?” Travis was dumbfounded. This minion of Geraci’s wasn’t his minion? He was an FBI agent? “Skyla?” was his next thought. “Skyla!” he called, needing to see her.

  “She’s fine. She’s right here. Took a graze from a bullet, but she’s gonna be okay.”

  “Travis,” he heard her soft voice from the floor in the corner. Flashlights and SWAT team members came into view as Travis looked around. He hit his knees as he fell before her and scooped her into his arms, despite that she had medics tending her, gauze covering her right bicep. He needed to feel her against him, needed to know she was safe, needed to show her what she meant to him. The relief that she hadn’t really been raped or beaten was palpable, and he felt a heavy burden lift from his heart.

  “Sky, I—” he began.

  “I know,” she said with a smile and cupped his cheek. “It was all a show. I’m ok.”

  “Your arm.” Travis frowned and looked at the bleeding wound covered with gauze and tape.

  “’Tis a scratch.” She winked and kissed his lips quickly.

  “ADA Larson, I have DA Jeffers on the phone. He wants you on the first helicopter out of here.”

  “Ok, what about—?”

  “Mr. Redmond needs to come with us. We’ve got questions—”

  “Where’s my brother?” Travis grated and turned, shooting up from his squat. “Where is my brother, Agent Mathers?” He came close to pulling the man’s shirt-collar before he realized if he did so that would be a federal offense.

  “He’s being medevacked, as we speak.” Mathers tone was grim. Travis felt sick to his stomach once again, as if he’d suddenly been punched.

  “I need to be with him, please? I’ll answer any questions you have but… I need to go and be with him. And call my mother.” Travis looked down, then felt a soft hand take his.

  He looked into Skyla’s solemn face. God, he loved her so much that it hurt. He’d spent less than a week in a cabin with her and was now head over freaking heels for this woman. That’s all it took apparently. A little playful banter, some mind-blowing sex, a traumatic event, and he’d found the woman of his dreams.

  “I’ll do everything in my power, Travis,” she said. And he knew she meant it: his brother’s care, getting them both exonerated, and taking care of the sleaze-ball Geraci. She would do everything in her power to make things right, he knew for a fact.

  He nodded and squeezed her hand, pulling her to him as h
e wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned his forehead against hers. He took that moment to absorb her essence, the calm and peace she’d brought into his life, the certainty. She renewed and refreshed him. She was the balance he’d always needed. As much as they butted heads, he’d never felt more alive than he did when he was with her.

  Just as he was about to tell her so, another agent in SWAT gear came up with a phone and motioned for Skyla to answer it. “Sorry, ADA Larson, it’s the mayor. He says it’s urgent.”

  Travis’s eyes narrowed even as Skyla nodded, took the phone, and looked up at Travis. A million emotions crossed her face, but the one that she left him with was remorse. Plain and simple. It was as if she said, “It was fun. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

  Instead, she covered the mouthpiece of the phone in her hands and replied with, “Take care, Travis.” She smiled and took the call, walking away from him.

  Mathers came up at that time and patted Travis’s back. “Alright, we’re gonna follow your brother to Grady. You ready?”

  Travis nodded but not before looking back at Skyla one last time in regret.

  For the second time that day, his heart broke.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Hi, Trav,” Madison Thomas said as she strolled up to the ice bath Travis was plopped in.

  “Hey, Mad. What’s up?” Travis smiled at the gorgeous blonde, who happened to be both the wife of his teammate, Hunter Thomas, as well as their CEO, and the daughter of Jerry Taylor, owner of the Gladiators.

  She was dressed to kill in a navy-blue dress that accentuated her curves and tan skin with matching heels. Her golden blonde hair, curled in swirling ribbons, framed her heart-shaped face, and her lips were painted coral. Blue-green eyes stared into his as she pulled up a chair and sat down beside him, resting her hand on the back of his.

  He was grateful for her presence for he’d felt off the last two weeks since he’d been back and enjoyed the company she provided. She frequented the locker rooms and attended their practices and games—hell, she worked at the complex. She was their CEO and VP, and she was super involved with the team and its players.

 

‹ Prev