The Running Back: A New Adult Sports Romance ~ Sean (The Rookies Book 3)
Page 6
by Zoë Lane
Landyn was right.
Except the abuse hadn’t been just hitting.
Did he know and didn’t tell me?
I couldn’t trust my own brother. And we were in therapy. To get everything out in the open and resolve it. How was I supposed to heal without knowing all the facts? The angrier I got, the more my head pounded.
When I walked into the kitchen, Sean was securing a towel with a rubber band.
“Ice is inside,” he said, handing me the makeshift ice pack.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“We gotta figure out how to sneak you back home. Landyn was pissed.”
I winced when the cool towel touched my scalp. “What did he say?”
“Thought you were here with me because of our conversation earlier. Took one look at my boxers and declared that sufficient evidence.”
“He’s not wrong,” I said wryly.
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t need to know that.”
“True.” I handed him back the towel. He frowned. “No, it helped,” I said reassuringly. “I’ll sneak some ice into my room when I get back. Probably should head over there before he calls my probation officer.”
Sean walked me to the door, his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, sorry about…today.”
I smiled up at him and then kissed him lightly. “No need to be sorry. Now you owe me. I never got to get my happy ending.”
His eyes went to the ceiling. “You and me both.”
I chuckled. “Goodnight, Sean. And thanks for coming with me today. I really appreciate it.”
His expression sobered. He rubbed my back. “Anytime. Remember, I know what it’s like to…not have parents in your life. I get it. What you want? I get needing to have some kind of closure.”
I left his condo feeling—probably for the first time—that I had an ally. Someone who understood me and what I needed.
I also left with a very real explanation as to why I couldn’t remember anything before I was ten. I had blocked it all.
It had been too painful to remember, but the scars were there.
I looked at the cigarette scar on my wrist as I walked into Landyn’s place.
Carter Gallagher.
He was the scar.
And there was no way to get rid of scars without plastic surgery. Cut open the wound and remove the scar tissue.
I shuddered at the thought. But at least I had the thoughts back.
Pieces of the puzzle.
14
SEAN
“Good to see you again, baby.”
My grandmother met me at the door with a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, Grandma.”
“Come on in. Dinner is almost ready. Buns are browning.”
“Mmm. I can smell them.”
My grandmother was exactly what you’d expect: Pretty round, loud talker, but could cook meals that made you never want to grow up and leave the house. I remembered missing her cooking while away at school. I was the first one out of class on the days before holiday breaks so I could fly home and get started eating.
I greeted a number of people she had camped out in her living room. Some older guys I knew from growing up—the postman, one of the guys who owned the barbershop down on Third Street, and a few others that lived on nearby blocks.
A few play cousins came into town with their kids and I was soon on the floor with about five of the rug rats jumping on me and demanding I surrender.
Food was delicious as always. Cornbread and buns, ham and hen, about three different greens cooked with bacon, and my grandmother’s mac and cheese—a family recipe she claimed had been passed down since the Civil War. She said she’d give me the secret when I had kids.
“You look a little tired, baby,” she said when I wasn’t in another conversation.
“Just got some things on my mind.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “Keepin’ it on your mind is what makes you tired.”
“True, Grandma, true.”
“So, tell me.”
Her face changed from curiosity to sadness after I told her about Malik’s threats. “I just don’t know why he’s acting like this now. He used to leave me alone growing up. I rarely had problems with him.”
“People here are changing, Sean. With the new team…people will find new ways to make money.”
“Well, I’m moving you out. I don’t know what he’ll do, but he knows where you live.”
Grandma chuckled. “Now you know there’s no way I’m leaving my home.”
“Grandma—”
“I’ve lived here for nearly fifty years! I’ve raised a number of you kids within these walls. I’m not moving and that’s final.” She tapped her hand on the dining room table. “But I appreciate the offer, Sean.” She tweaked my cheek. “You were always such a good boy.”
I rubbed my forehead until it felt raw. “Grandma, he wants me to play his game, but it can get worse. He’s not asking for money, but if he does…” I held her gaze. “Do you understand?”
She nodded, her lips drooping into a frown. “I do, baby. I understand. You don’t want to give up that money—”
“It’s not about the money!”
“Now you’re gonna keep your voice low while you’re inside my house,” she admonished with a pinning gaze.
“Sorry, Grandma,” I mumbled. “It’s not about the money,” I said in a lower and more even tone. “It’s how am I going to keep you safe if you won’t leave?”
She patted my hand. “Now, what did I tell you growing up? What do you do when someone wants to hurt you?”
“Talk. And if that doesn’t work, fight.”
She squeezed my hand. “You’ve talked. You told him no, and now you want to run. That’s not what I told you to do.”
I relaxed back in my chair.
Fight.
Fight.
What did that look like? I didn’t even know who Malik did business with. How would I fight?
“Don’t you let that hoodlum hold any power over you.” She jabbed at my chest with her finger. “You’ve got the character, and now you’ve got the money. The way I see it, you have all the power.”
It was something I’d always tell the kids I helped coach at the middle school—well, that minus the money part. With character and heart, they could do anything.
I grinned. “Thanks, Grandma.”
She smiled back and then laughed. “You’re welcome, baby. Now, are you finished eating? Because I see all that mac and cheese still sitting in my pan.”
15
SEAN
“You sure about this?” Coach Hicks asked.
I nodded. “Trying to get ahead of this. He threatened my grandmother.”
&
nbsp; Coach Hicks patted me on the back. “Well, I can understand the concern. It’s a good thing you came to me first.”
We took our seats at the conference room table in the GM’s office and waited. About thirty seconds later, GM Rochelle Hardison walked into the office with three people dressed in suits behind her. She introduced two men and a woman as agents with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
“What makes this a bit fortuitous,” the female agent began after the four of them joined us at the conference table, “is we already had an open investigation into illegal gambling based on source-provided information.”
“Thank you for meeting with us on short notice. We have an away game this week, and we fly out tomorrow,” Coach Hicks said.
All eyes landed on me. I took a deep breath and told them everything I knew.
“We don’t recognize Malik’s name,” the balding male agent said. “He could be a lower-tier player.”
“Lower-tier?” I asked.
“Illegal gambling is a business doing tens of billions of dollars a year,” he explained. “All kinds, with a lot of transactions happening online.”
“So, he’s part of a group?”
“Possibly. Fortunately for us, he might let you in on it, if you play it right.”
“I’ll do anything for my grandma. But what do you mean?”
Words were thrown around like “undercover” and “source.” Basically, if I could get information that led to identifying key players in Richmond, they could arrest them, and my grandmother would be safe.
It sounded easy, but I’d seen this episode of Law & Order.
“There’s no time before the next game,” I said. “If I don’t come through, then they may retaliate while I’m on the plane home.”
My legs started shaking. If I stepped off the plane to hear that my grandmother had been hurt and I wasn’t here to protect her, then I wasn’t sure if any of it—winning that college scholarship or playing for the Rhinos—would’ve been worth it in the end. Not if my grandmother barely had time to enjoy it.
“She can stay at your place, correct?” the GM asked.
I shook my head. “She won’t leave her home.”
Rochelle smiled knowingly. “My parents are that way, so I know what you mean.”
“We’ll coach you on what to say,” the balding agent said. “Just get them to bet on home games so you’ll be nearby.”
“But won’t he actually have to follow through on what they tell him to do?”
“Coach Hicks is right,” Rochelle said. “How is that going to work? Because we’re not going to throw games here. Sean is an integral part of our offense and we need him to perform at his best for our goals.”
“Reaching the Super Bowl?” the female agent asked.
“Like every other team,” Coach Hicks said with a nod.
“We understand. We’re not asking you to jeopardize your chances.” The female agent looked at me. “Sean, play like you normally would. We’ll give you the excuses you’ll need to keep them just out of reach. If it gets too dangerous, we’ll move on them with what we have.”
“You’re not even sure if any of the major players are here in Richmond,” Coach Hicks added.
“No—no, we’re not,” the younger male agent said. “But our Vegas office has been running an investigation for months now, and there are connections out here. Your guy Malik was just stupid enough to open his mouth.”
Or maybe I was.
Either way, several hours later—and blowing off time with Lacey—I was sitting in Malik’s home, trying not to look at my watch. I had two hours to get to the airport to catch the team flight.
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” Malik said, passing me a beer.
I accepted the beer and took a swig. “You weren’t persuasive, so don’t go getting a big head.”
Malik’s eyes flashed anger. His nostrils grew.
“Look, I was just thinking”—I took another swig—“there're some things I’d really like to do, and I could do them with some extra cash. A lot of my contract is wrapped up in bonuses, so I can’t get the money now.”
“What stuff?” Malik asked, his expression still tight.
“Real estate. Major projects. That’s where the money is. I want to be an investor, and I need cash up front.”
Malik nodded. “I thought about houses, but I don’t know nothing about ’em.”
“One of my teammates has a guy or whatever, so I’m going to try.” I took another swig. Damn, I was thirsty.
“Well, we’re going to need you to—”
I held up a hand. “Uh-huh. I can get connections to major players. The money ain’t in these small plays on the games. It’s playoff stuff. Super Bowl stuff. We get to the playoffs, we can make some real money.”
Malik licked his lips, but didn’t argue.
“You need to track home games,” I continued. “We have a pretty good average. If we get that up, we got a shot at the playoffs. And you get more money. But I gotta talk to some people first. And we’re leaving in”—I looked at my watch—“an hour, so I got to get to the plane. Might be able to meet with some more people where we’re going.”
That made Malik’s eyes get larger. He moved to the edge of his seat. “My guys here are gonna like that. They gon’ like a lot.”
I set down my beer and looked Malik straight in the eyes. “Now you tried to threaten my grandma with some small stuff, but I can blow this up.”
Malik chuckled and held up his hands. “Nah, nah. You got it all wrong. Like you said, I gotta work on my powers of persuasion.”
Got him.
The doorbell rang. Malik stood.
“I gotta go.” I stood too.
“It’s okay. You give me a call when you got everything lined up. I believe you. This will be good.” Malik held out his hand.
I took it and we came together in a hug. “Yeah, cool. I think so too.”
I followed Malik to the door.
“I’m expecting more clients today. Probably one at the door.”
“No doubt.”
He opened the door.
Carter Gallagher stood on the other side.
16
SEAN
How could I tell her?
How did Carter even know Malik?
Was he Malik’s client?
I put my head back and reclined my seat. Couldn’t do anything about it while on the plane. Couldn’t do anything but think about the look on Carter’s face when I had passed him. We’d both pretended not to know each other, and that was even worse. He could tell Malik, or even Lacey—if he spoke to Lacey again.
“Sean.”
I opened one eye. Landyn sat facing me. “I thought Bat was sitting there.”
“I made him move,” Landyn said flatly.
“I’m trying to sleep.” I closed my eye and adjusted the position of my headphones so he’d see I was serious and leave me alone.
He pulled one side of my headphones away from my ear.
“Sleeping with my sister? Or maybe raping her?”
Both eyes shot open. I ripped my headphones off. “What the hell?” I whispered fiercely. I angled forward. “What are you talking about? Lacey said—”
“Lacey said a lot of things in therapy yesterday, like how she remembered being touched by our father.”
Oh, shit.
I collapsed back into my seat. “I…I didn’t know that.”
Landyn shrugged. “No, you didn’t. Neither did I. I suspected, but she had never told me.”
“Man…I’m sorry about that.”
Landyn leaned closer. “You want to know how she remembered that?”
If I were honest, I’d say no, because by the murderously calm look in Landyn’s eyes, I figured it would definitely have something to do with me.
The hallway had been clear when Lacey left the night before. There were only two suites on that floor anyway: mine and Landyn’s. Lacey went down the elevator, then came back u
p so Landyn wouldn’t suspect the timing of him banging on my door and her arriving home as being too close.
Lacey had texted me and said Landyn had eyed her suspiciously, but she had retreated to her bedroom anyway, complaining of a headache after a long day of work. The guy had been looking at me sideways ever since. Lacey and I had decided to avoid each other at HQ, just in case Landyn was somehow in the security room watching the cameras.
“I’m sure you’ll tell me how she remembered,” I said.
“Said she heard a loud noise.”
“When?”
“The other night. Said it gave her a headache.”
I didn’t move.
Landyn banging on my door. Lacey falling off the bed and hitting her head. That’s when it happened? I had never gotten an answer from her as to why she’d screamed and fallen off the bed when I’d touched her. Did she think I was going to rape her?
I held Landyn’s even stare. “What noise? Where?”
Landyn smirked. “That’s cute. You’re going to pretend the noise wasn’t me banging on your door because you were banging my sister.”
I chuckled. “I haven’t touched your sister. She’ll tell you. If she’s sleeping with anyone, it ain’t me.”
Half-true.
“She shouldn’t be with anyone. She’s too fragile.”
“I think your sister knows what she can handle.”
Landyn raised both brows and crossed his arms. “Really? And how do you know that? How well do you know my sister?”
“Not well. But I know she’s not a child, and you’re treating her like one. Acting like she can’t figure things out for herself. Because that’s what she’s got to do, Landyn. I don’t know anything about therapy, but I do know people gotta work through their own issues. You can’t make them.”
Landyn sat quietly, his stare unrelenting. I fiddled with my headphones, readjusting the length of the band.
“If you don’t mind,” I began, “I’d like to get back to sleep.”
My own father.
“Lacey?”
A warm hand touched my shoulder, and I screamed and scurried off the bed, falling and hitting my head against something hard.
“Lacey! What the hell? Are you okay?”
Sean came around the bed just as I was sitting up, holding the side of my head. “Ow.”
“Ow? You’re lucky you didn’t bust your head open. You hit my stand.”
His nightstand. I stared at the wooden block vehemently.
He sat beside me and cradled my head. “Let me see. You may have a cut.”
“I don’t think so. I just feel a lump.” I rubbed at the numb spot.
“Why did you scream? Did you think I was Landyn?”
“Ugh, no. I…” I curled into myself. “I…”
I couldn’t say it. He’d look at me differently. I would look at me differently.
“What?” he asked softy. “I think you’re right. I just looks like a bump. Want some ice? I’ll get you some.” He hopped up and jogged out of the room.
I groaned as I hauled myself up using the nightstand I now hated. I stuck my tongue out at the furniture and then grabbed a hold of it as the room spun. A few seconds later, I was able to walk out of the bedroom.
I can’t believe Landyn nearly caught us—
Landyn was right.
Except the abuse hadn’t been just hitting.
Did he know and didn’t tell me?
I couldn’t trust my own brother. And we were in therapy. To get everything out in the open and resolve it. How was I supposed to heal without knowing all the facts? The angrier I got, the more my head pounded.
When I walked into the kitchen, Sean was securing a towel with a rubber band.
“Ice is inside,” he said, handing me the makeshift ice pack.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“We gotta figure out how to sneak you back home. Landyn was pissed.”
I winced when the cool towel touched my scalp. “What did he say?”
“Thought you were here with me because of our conversation earlier. Took one look at my boxers and declared that sufficient evidence.”
“He’s not wrong,” I said wryly.
“Yeah, well, he doesn’t need to know that.”
“True.” I handed him back the towel. He frowned. “No, it helped,” I said reassuringly. “I’ll sneak some ice into my room when I get back. Probably should head over there before he calls my probation officer.”
Sean walked me to the door, his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, sorry about…today.”
I smiled up at him and then kissed him lightly. “No need to be sorry. Now you owe me. I never got to get my happy ending.”
His eyes went to the ceiling. “You and me both.”
I chuckled. “Goodnight, Sean. And thanks for coming with me today. I really appreciate it.”
His expression sobered. He rubbed my back. “Anytime. Remember, I know what it’s like to…not have parents in your life. I get it. What you want? I get needing to have some kind of closure.”
I left his condo feeling—probably for the first time—that I had an ally. Someone who understood me and what I needed.
I also left with a very real explanation as to why I couldn’t remember anything before I was ten. I had blocked it all.
It had been too painful to remember, but the scars were there.
I looked at the cigarette scar on my wrist as I walked into Landyn’s place.
Carter Gallagher.
He was the scar.
And there was no way to get rid of scars without plastic surgery. Cut open the wound and remove the scar tissue.
I shuddered at the thought. But at least I had the thoughts back.
Pieces of the puzzle.
14
SEAN
“Good to see you again, baby.”
My grandmother met me at the door with a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, Grandma.”
“Come on in. Dinner is almost ready. Buns are browning.”
“Mmm. I can smell them.”
My grandmother was exactly what you’d expect: Pretty round, loud talker, but could cook meals that made you never want to grow up and leave the house. I remembered missing her cooking while away at school. I was the first one out of class on the days before holiday breaks so I could fly home and get started eating.
I greeted a number of people she had camped out in her living room. Some older guys I knew from growing up—the postman, one of the guys who owned the barbershop down on Third Street, and a few others that lived on nearby blocks.
A few play cousins came into town with their kids and I was soon on the floor with about five of the rug rats jumping on me and demanding I surrender.
Food was delicious as always. Cornbread and buns, ham and hen, about three different greens cooked with bacon, and my grandmother’s mac and cheese—a family recipe she claimed had been passed down since the Civil War. She said she’d give me the secret when I had kids.
“You look a little tired, baby,” she said when I wasn’t in another conversation.
“Just got some things on my mind.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “Keepin’ it on your mind is what makes you tired.”
“True, Grandma, true.”
“So, tell me.”
Her face changed from curiosity to sadness after I told her about Malik’s threats. “I just don’t know why he’s acting like this now. He used to leave me alone growing up. I rarely had problems with him.”
“People here are changing, Sean. With the new team…people will find new ways to make money.”
“Well, I’m moving you out. I don’t know what he’ll do, but he knows where you live.”
Grandma chuckled. “Now you know there’s no way I’m leaving my home.”
“Grandma—”
“I’ve lived here for nearly fifty years! I’ve raised a number of you kids within these walls. I’m not moving and that’s final.” She tapped her hand on the dining room table. “But I appreciate the offer, Sean.” She tweaked my cheek. “You were always such a good boy.”
I rubbed my forehead until it felt raw. “Grandma, he wants me to play his game, but it can get worse. He’s not asking for money, but if he does…” I held her gaze. “Do you understand?”
She nodded, her lips drooping into a frown. “I do, baby. I understand. You don’t want to give up that money—”
“It’s not about the money!”
“Now you’re gonna keep your voice low while you’re inside my house,” she admonished with a pinning gaze.
“Sorry, Grandma,” I mumbled. “It’s not about the money,” I said in a lower and more even tone. “It’s how am I going to keep you safe if you won’t leave?”
She patted my hand. “Now, what did I tell you growing up? What do you do when someone wants to hurt you?”
“Talk. And if that doesn’t work, fight.”
She squeezed my hand. “You’ve talked. You told him no, and now you want to run. That’s not what I told you to do.”
I relaxed back in my chair.
Fight.
Fight.
What did that look like? I didn’t even know who Malik did business with. How would I fight?
“Don’t you let that hoodlum hold any power over you.” She jabbed at my chest with her finger. “You’ve got the character, and now you’ve got the money. The way I see it, you have all the power.”
It was something I’d always tell the kids I helped coach at the middle school—well, that minus the money part. With character and heart, they could do anything.
I grinned. “Thanks, Grandma.”
She smiled back and then laughed. “You’re welcome, baby. Now, are you finished eating? Because I see all that mac and cheese still sitting in my pan.”
15
SEAN
“You sure about this?” Coach Hicks asked.
I nodded. “Trying to get ahead of this. He threatened my grandmother.”
&
nbsp; Coach Hicks patted me on the back. “Well, I can understand the concern. It’s a good thing you came to me first.”
We took our seats at the conference room table in the GM’s office and waited. About thirty seconds later, GM Rochelle Hardison walked into the office with three people dressed in suits behind her. She introduced two men and a woman as agents with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
“What makes this a bit fortuitous,” the female agent began after the four of them joined us at the conference table, “is we already had an open investigation into illegal gambling based on source-provided information.”
“Thank you for meeting with us on short notice. We have an away game this week, and we fly out tomorrow,” Coach Hicks said.
All eyes landed on me. I took a deep breath and told them everything I knew.
“We don’t recognize Malik’s name,” the balding male agent said. “He could be a lower-tier player.”
“Lower-tier?” I asked.
“Illegal gambling is a business doing tens of billions of dollars a year,” he explained. “All kinds, with a lot of transactions happening online.”
“So, he’s part of a group?”
“Possibly. Fortunately for us, he might let you in on it, if you play it right.”
“I’ll do anything for my grandma. But what do you mean?”
Words were thrown around like “undercover” and “source.” Basically, if I could get information that led to identifying key players in Richmond, they could arrest them, and my grandmother would be safe.
It sounded easy, but I’d seen this episode of Law & Order.
“There’s no time before the next game,” I said. “If I don’t come through, then they may retaliate while I’m on the plane home.”
My legs started shaking. If I stepped off the plane to hear that my grandmother had been hurt and I wasn’t here to protect her, then I wasn’t sure if any of it—winning that college scholarship or playing for the Rhinos—would’ve been worth it in the end. Not if my grandmother barely had time to enjoy it.
“She can stay at your place, correct?” the GM asked.
I shook my head. “She won’t leave her home.”
Rochelle smiled knowingly. “My parents are that way, so I know what you mean.”
“We’ll coach you on what to say,” the balding agent said. “Just get them to bet on home games so you’ll be nearby.”
“But won’t he actually have to follow through on what they tell him to do?”
“Coach Hicks is right,” Rochelle said. “How is that going to work? Because we’re not going to throw games here. Sean is an integral part of our offense and we need him to perform at his best for our goals.”
“Reaching the Super Bowl?” the female agent asked.
“Like every other team,” Coach Hicks said with a nod.
“We understand. We’re not asking you to jeopardize your chances.” The female agent looked at me. “Sean, play like you normally would. We’ll give you the excuses you’ll need to keep them just out of reach. If it gets too dangerous, we’ll move on them with what we have.”
“You’re not even sure if any of the major players are here in Richmond,” Coach Hicks added.
“No—no, we’re not,” the younger male agent said. “But our Vegas office has been running an investigation for months now, and there are connections out here. Your guy Malik was just stupid enough to open his mouth.”
Or maybe I was.
Either way, several hours later—and blowing off time with Lacey—I was sitting in Malik’s home, trying not to look at my watch. I had two hours to get to the airport to catch the team flight.
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” Malik said, passing me a beer.
I accepted the beer and took a swig. “You weren’t persuasive, so don’t go getting a big head.”
Malik’s eyes flashed anger. His nostrils grew.
“Look, I was just thinking”—I took another swig—“there're some things I’d really like to do, and I could do them with some extra cash. A lot of my contract is wrapped up in bonuses, so I can’t get the money now.”
“What stuff?” Malik asked, his expression still tight.
“Real estate. Major projects. That’s where the money is. I want to be an investor, and I need cash up front.”
Malik nodded. “I thought about houses, but I don’t know nothing about ’em.”
“One of my teammates has a guy or whatever, so I’m going to try.” I took another swig. Damn, I was thirsty.
“Well, we’re going to need you to—”
I held up a hand. “Uh-huh. I can get connections to major players. The money ain’t in these small plays on the games. It’s playoff stuff. Super Bowl stuff. We get to the playoffs, we can make some real money.”
Malik licked his lips, but didn’t argue.
“You need to track home games,” I continued. “We have a pretty good average. If we get that up, we got a shot at the playoffs. And you get more money. But I gotta talk to some people first. And we’re leaving in”—I looked at my watch—“an hour, so I got to get to the plane. Might be able to meet with some more people where we’re going.”
That made Malik’s eyes get larger. He moved to the edge of his seat. “My guys here are gonna like that. They gon’ like a lot.”
I set down my beer and looked Malik straight in the eyes. “Now you tried to threaten my grandma with some small stuff, but I can blow this up.”
Malik chuckled and held up his hands. “Nah, nah. You got it all wrong. Like you said, I gotta work on my powers of persuasion.”
Got him.
The doorbell rang. Malik stood.
“I gotta go.” I stood too.
“It’s okay. You give me a call when you got everything lined up. I believe you. This will be good.” Malik held out his hand.
I took it and we came together in a hug. “Yeah, cool. I think so too.”
I followed Malik to the door.
“I’m expecting more clients today. Probably one at the door.”
“No doubt.”
He opened the door.
Carter Gallagher stood on the other side.
16
SEAN
How could I tell her?
How did Carter even know Malik?
Was he Malik’s client?
I put my head back and reclined my seat. Couldn’t do anything about it while on the plane. Couldn’t do anything but think about the look on Carter’s face when I had passed him. We’d both pretended not to know each other, and that was even worse. He could tell Malik, or even Lacey—if he spoke to Lacey again.
“Sean.”
I opened one eye. Landyn sat facing me. “I thought Bat was sitting there.”
“I made him move,” Landyn said flatly.
“I’m trying to sleep.” I closed my eye and adjusted the position of my headphones so he’d see I was serious and leave me alone.
He pulled one side of my headphones away from my ear.
“Sleeping with my sister? Or maybe raping her?”
Both eyes shot open. I ripped my headphones off. “What the hell?” I whispered fiercely. I angled forward. “What are you talking about? Lacey said—”
“Lacey said a lot of things in therapy yesterday, like how she remembered being touched by our father.”
Oh, shit.
I collapsed back into my seat. “I…I didn’t know that.”
Landyn shrugged. “No, you didn’t. Neither did I. I suspected, but she had never told me.”
“Man…I’m sorry about that.”
Landyn leaned closer. “You want to know how she remembered that?”
If I were honest, I’d say no, because by the murderously calm look in Landyn’s eyes, I figured it would definitely have something to do with me.
The hallway had been clear when Lacey left the night before. There were only two suites on that floor anyway: mine and Landyn’s. Lacey went down the elevator, then came back u
p so Landyn wouldn’t suspect the timing of him banging on my door and her arriving home as being too close.
Lacey had texted me and said Landyn had eyed her suspiciously, but she had retreated to her bedroom anyway, complaining of a headache after a long day of work. The guy had been looking at me sideways ever since. Lacey and I had decided to avoid each other at HQ, just in case Landyn was somehow in the security room watching the cameras.
“I’m sure you’ll tell me how she remembered,” I said.
“Said she heard a loud noise.”
“When?”
“The other night. Said it gave her a headache.”
I didn’t move.
Landyn banging on my door. Lacey falling off the bed and hitting her head. That’s when it happened? I had never gotten an answer from her as to why she’d screamed and fallen off the bed when I’d touched her. Did she think I was going to rape her?
I held Landyn’s even stare. “What noise? Where?”
Landyn smirked. “That’s cute. You’re going to pretend the noise wasn’t me banging on your door because you were banging my sister.”
I chuckled. “I haven’t touched your sister. She’ll tell you. If she’s sleeping with anyone, it ain’t me.”
Half-true.
“She shouldn’t be with anyone. She’s too fragile.”
“I think your sister knows what she can handle.”
Landyn raised both brows and crossed his arms. “Really? And how do you know that? How well do you know my sister?”
“Not well. But I know she’s not a child, and you’re treating her like one. Acting like she can’t figure things out for herself. Because that’s what she’s got to do, Landyn. I don’t know anything about therapy, but I do know people gotta work through their own issues. You can’t make them.”
Landyn sat quietly, his stare unrelenting. I fiddled with my headphones, readjusting the length of the band.
“If you don’t mind,” I began, “I’d like to get back to sleep.”