by Tricia Lynne
My stomach plummeted, my head going a little light. I’d just been cleared for trade.
“Why, you weaselly little motherfucker.” I hopped off the table, made a grab for his button-down. “I ought to beat your crooked little raggedy ass for the hell of it with all the shit you’ve done to the guys on this team.”
His eyes widened ridiculously as he realized he had nowhere to go.
“Whoa, Brody.” Darius stuck an arm between me and Chase, pushed against my torso. “You know that’s not a smart move, my man.”
With a growl, I punched the drywall next to Chase. Letting go of his shirt, I whipped the door open. The glass rattled when I slammed it behind me.
I hit the locker room and started stripping clothes off. Ten minutes later I was pushing my wrist wraps into my gym bag as my hair dried. As soon as I got out of the locker room, I tried to call Lily.
It went to voicemail.
Knowing what I sounded like at the moment, I figured a text would be better than a voice message.
Brody: Call me as soon as you can.
After a stop at the truck to stuff my playbook in my bag, I texted again.
Brody: Lily, I need to talk to you. I’m about to go into a meeting with Dick.
No response.
I tried to call one last time before I went into the building that housed Dick’s office. I had a glimmer of hope that this meeting wasn’t what I thought it was. When the call rolled over to voicemail, I did my best not to scare her for no reason. “Give me a call as soon as you can, darlin’. I need to hear your voice.”
With that, I pulled open the door and took the elevator up to Dick’s office. His assistant was waiting for me. “Mr. Shaw, you can go right in.”
I pushed through the doors. Sitting in a leather executive chair so big I was sure he was compensating for something, Dick turned from his bank of windows. “Brody.”
“J.R. How is everything in the land of Ewing Oil today?”
“Funny.” He didn’t smile.
I didn’t give a shit. “Thanks, I thought so.” The last thing I ever wanted was to give Dick the satisfaction that he’d gotten to me, so I tacked on a smile for good measure.
“Mr. Shaw. I’m aware you’re sleeping with my stepdaughter.”
Sonofabitch. “Oh? Not that I wouldn’t like to sleep with your stepdaughter, or just about anybody for that matter, but what makes you think that?”
He had zero proof.
“I have proof.”
Fuck me running.
Dick slid a folder across his desk at me. “I’m particularly fond of the one with half her ass hanging out.”
I flipped open the file and my brows creased. It was full of photos of Lily and me.
Locked in a kiss next to her garage.
Her on the running board of my truck when I told her I loved her.
Wrapped in my arms against the railing on my balcony the morning after I’d told her about Andra.
Nearly the exact same pose the night before, when she’d gotten out of bed in my T-shirt and I’d found her on the balcony.
In her backyard after her house was broken into.
I ground on my molars, sat the folder down.
“Not funny now, is it, Shaw? Those will be released tomorrow to several media outlets, both local and national. Shortly thereafter, we’ll be releasing the news of your trade. You’re going to Miami, son. Not all that bad, considering. It’s a good deal. They pay out the remainder of your contract. I get a tailback, and first and second round draft picks next year.”
There was a faint buzzing in my ears from the rage building inside me. “Why not bench me? Why all the shoulder bullshit?”
He leaned forward. “Truthfully, we didn’t think you’d make it back from the dislocation at all. We needed Bishop to take the reps if he was going to start this season. But, not only did you recover, you did it in half the time. That meant paying out your contract in full, even if you rode the bench. We needed to slow you down, Mr. Shaw. When Dr. Chase told your trainer to keep you limited, you didn’t listen.”
“My contract isn’t fully guaranteed. You thought you’d be able to put me on IR this year and cut my pay in half. Me coming back fucked that up.”
He steepled his fingers. “Exactly. And Chase says you’re as dumb as you look. Fortunately for us, the last year you’ve had a run of bad luck. That got me thinking about your trade clause, Mr. Shaw. You were two strikes in. Arranging a trade would be even more lucrative for the organization than having your contract reduced. The accident at camp was purely a stroke of luck, but it was the opening I needed to both send you home so I could get these for your third strike—” he tapped the folder with the pictures “—and set you up to go on the injured reserve list, if I couldn’t get the photos. We knew the civil suit wouldn’t stick before you even knew there was a lawsuit.” He leaned forward like he was imparting a secret. “In fact, the criminal case won’t either. The girl has character issues.”
Jesus. The way this man’s mind worked. If he weren’t so fucking evil, it might be admirable. Might. “Mmhmm, and you didn’t have anything to do with that either, right? For all you know that woman could have been forced into sex at that party, and you’d find a way to make that go away, too, wouldn’t you?”
He spread his hands wide. “It’s a football town, son.”
It was taking everything I had not to jump across the desk and punch in his eye teeth. “I’m not your son. I want my release. Free and clear. The Bulldogs don’t have to pay out the last two years on my contract and I’ll announce my retirement early. I’ll even say it’s medical if you want.”
“Now, why would I do that? I need you healthy now, Mr. Shaw. This deal with Miami hinges on it. As much as I’d like to be free and clear of your contract, you’re worth a lot in this league. First and second round draft picks and a tailback. Three players for the price of one when Bishop can do your job just as well as you can. Miami is desperate for you. I’d much rather have talent I’m going to use than let you go free and clear. Now, if you’d have asked me before the trade was possible, this conversation might have gone differently.”
Dick rocked back, rested an ankle over his knee as he sipped brown liquid from a crystal tumbler. “Don’t take it personal, son. This is a business. Bishop is younger, faster, and he took a smaller contract just to come here and learn with you. I’m in high cotton.”
The sonofabitch threw his head back and laughed. “Of course, I also have it on good authority that, should you stay healthy for the duration of the two years, Miami is prepared to offer you an extension to keep you from retiring.”
Miami was desperate after their starter retired without much warning, and their backup had more brains than ability. With them tossing two picks at Dallas, they’d be praying they could convince me to stay a couple more years.
Not that I gave a shit.
“See, everybody wins, Brody. More money for you, more money for me, and Lily gets her dog shelter.” Shifting in his chair, Dick clasped his hands behind his head. “Besides. You might not want to ask for that release. Take this trade for the blessing it is.” Glancing at the photos, he tipped his chin. “How do you think I came by those, anyhow?”
Was he implying that... Oh, no. No, Lily wouldn’t. “She wouldn’t do that, you sadistic fuck!” I jumped from the chair needing to move only to find my legs shaky as I paced. “Lily wouldn’t sell me out.”
“She wouldn’t, would she?” He kept a hand poised under the edge of the desk, I’m sure with a finger on his panic button. “Not even for the dogs she loves so much?”
Shaking my head, I clasped the back of my neck as my stomach bottomed out and I fought back the bile.
Lily used me. She set me up.
“Now, she can finally get back to planning the wedding.”
She lied?
<
br /> She’d fucking told me she loved me, and she was planning on marrying some other guy? One she said had cheated on her, but fuck, was that even real or did she lie about it, too? Was any of it real with her?
No, you couldn’t fake the kind of chemistry we had.
Maybe she has it with him, too.
Dick’s smarmy grin was salt in an open wound. Rage flooded me. Gut-searing, all-consuming, blackout hate for the bastard. I’d never wanted to crush another man’s windpipe so much in my life. To feel it give underneath my palms until his eyes bulged and he gasped for his last breath.
“You better hit that button now, Dick.” In something out of a movie, I turned, reached across the desk and lifted him out of his chair by his shirt front. His face blanched. He clawed at my hands, tried to reason with me, but I blocked it all out. “You arrogant, narcissistic piece of shit. You whored out your stepdaughter for a game. You really do think everyone else is shit on your gaudy-ass Lucchese alligator boots, don’t you?” I felt people pulling at my arms, I was fairly sure I smelled urine, but it was all the buzzing of flies.
I knew I couldn’t kill him.
But I would get one hell of a punch in on this diseased microdick who was a scourge on the game I loved. The woman I loved. “Well guess what, you sack of donkey shit. You bleed. Just like the rest of us.”
I loaded up and punched.
But I didn’t hit Dick.
Hayes stepped into it and I nailed him in a pectoral muscle.
That’s when I realized I’d had a security guard on one arm, Hayes had been on the other, and a second teammate around the side of my desk was trying to pry my hand off Dick’s shirt. I could hear his assistant screaming into a phone and the last guy had me around the waist with his feet braced against the desk. I put both my hands down.
Dick tried to straighten his shirt. “Get this asshole out of my sight. Your new team will hear about this, Shaw. So will the commissioner.” Everyone turned to me like they weren’t sure they should move. “Now!” Dick yelled like a recalcitrant toddler.
Leaning down, I picked up the folder that had fallen to the floor, and I walked out of his office like my life hadn’t gone up in flames and the ashes weren’t floating all around me.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Wear your brown pants, Dick Head.
I’m coming for you.
Lily
Brody wasn’t answering his phone.
I left him voicemail after voicemail, texted him, tried calling again. Nothing.
I spent a solid hour in the shower crying. Thank God for tankless hot water heaters. My classes—all those dogs and people. I wouldn’t get to see them two or three times a week, watch my puppy class grow up, and my agility students at their first trial.
I wasn’t sure I’d even have time to trial anymore. There was no national team in Jet’s future if I didn’t have a career that allowed me to run my own dogs between classes. Now, they’d have to stay home.
After drying my hair, I put on clean clothes and got in my car to head over to Brody’s place. If he wasn’t there, then I’d wait until he got home.
I’d have to tell Brody about Trey, too. I’d been trying to avoid that. I knew Brody had regular appointments with him and I didn’t want to taint things if I could help it. But part of me was embarrassed, too. He’d cheated on me before he worked for the team, and my stepfather hired him after the fact. Dick chose my cheating ex-fiancé over me because Trey’s father was a senator. I guessed politician trumps stepdaughter.
I rolled down the window and cranked up Post Malone, letting my hand dance through the wind.
The dude wasn’t right. At first, it had been pleas to come back and pledges of undying love, but it had eventually progressed to repetitive phone calls and texts where he was verbally abusive. He even tried threatening my livelihood with false accusations. Trey threatened to tell my clients that I abused my own dogs unless I came back to him. When I refused, he went as far as to report me to animal control who showed up at my home to search for signs of abuse. It came to a head when he confronted me while I was on a date. He screamed in the middle of a crowded restaurant that I was a cheating whore, then punched my date. Trey’s daddy covered the arrest up for him, but not before I managed to file an order of protection. Dick had asked me not to, spouting some bullshit about uniting two great families in a bid for world domination or whatever.
I had zero doubts this job with Dick would reescalate things.
My one bright spot in all of this was being able to tell Brody I’d leveraged the Bulldogs into funding the rescue and helping us locate the mill. I’d tried him back several times, but the calls were going to voicemail.
Pulling in the garage, I noticed Brody’s truck was in his spot. I checked my eyes in the mirror. The change of attitude and fresh air had taken out most of the redness. When I knocked on the door, Staci answered.
“Hey, hi. Is he here?” I put on a smile.
She didn’t return it. Instead she called over her shoulder, “Babe, I think we should give them some space.” Stepping back from the door, she motioned me in, and Erica sent me a sad smile on the way out. Brody was in his bedroom packing a bag.
He didn’t acknowledge me when his eyes darted up. Something was very wrong, here.
“Shaw, what’s going on? I tried to call you back about a million times.”
He didn’t look up.
I walked his direction and he didn’t answer. Instead he slipped past me, going out to the living room. Following him, I stood behind the couch as he tucked several suits into a garment bag. “Brody?”
His head came up slow. “Just don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” He zipped up the bag. “You should go.”
CC didn’t get up to greet me. She was lying on a bed by the balcony, head between her paws.
“Nope.” I didn’t know what was wrong, but I wasn’t in the mood to make nice with some surly asshole who was being as petulant as a thirteen-year-old girl. “To say I’ve had a shitty day is putting it mildly. I’m not playing games with you, big man. I don’t know what you’re mad about, but unless you tell me why you’re pissed, I can’t apologize, either.”
He didn’t respond and all the wind went out of my sails. Turning away to lean my butt on the back of the couch, I was too tired to hold the tears off anymore. “They traded you, didn’t they?”
He picked a folder up off the coffee table, threw it on the couch. “Miami.”
Peeling myself up, I walked around the couch, putting a hand on his bicep. He stopped moving but didn’t look at me. My heart was breaking for him. For us. “Brody, I’m so so—”
He nodded at the folder. “Open it.”
I did and my heart split in two. My legs failed me, and I slid to sit on the couch next to his garment bag. “Dick knew about us? How?” It came out in a whisper. My hands shook as I leafed through the photos. Shock settled into every muscle of my body. There was picture after picture of Brody, holding me. Kissing me. Pictures of him taking my trash out. Playing with my dogs in the backyard as I watched. Me hugging him from behind in nothing but a T-shirt. The night I’d gone out to his balcony. God, that must have been two a.m. Me leaving his building the morning after I’d taken CC home.
The one that truly broke my heart, though, was of him sticking his head through the window of his truck to kiss me.
He looked so young. So open. Like a college kid sneaking out of his girlfriend’s dorm. I remembered exactly what I felt then. Everything would be okay. All hope was not lost because I had the most amazing man in the world, and he was in love with me. This sweet, big-hearted football player who would be there for me because I was loved.
Brody’s voice came out soft, pained, shattering the moment in my head. “You used me. I took a leap of faith. Told you I love
d you, and you were using me to get shelter funding out of your stepdad.”
“What?” Mouth wide open, I turned to him. The shock was a ball of dread sitting in my stomach.
“I know about the rescue, Lily. What I don’t know is was it the plan from the beginning, or only since we found the empty building?” His hands were on his hips as he stared into the duffel on the table.
“What are you even talking about?” I was so utterly horrified he’d been traded. Because of me.
He met my eyes and I didn’t care that he saw the fat tears or dark circles. “When I heard them talking about your fiancé at camp, I should have run in the other direction. But I’ll give it to you, you’re a decent actress, sweetheart, and hey, we lucked out with all that chemistry in the sack, right? I know you didn’t fake the orgasms, so at least there’s that much.”
“Brody, stop. This isn’t—”
“For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why you would come up in the same conversation as my shoulder at training camp of all places.”
“You think I knew about this?”
“Stop, Lily.” He threw a hand up. “Nobody but Hayes and my neighbors knew, and they had nothing to gain by telling Dick about us. But you did.” His face was a mask of disappointment, and I could see the ache hiding beneath.
He had so much wrong, I didn’t know where to start.
I wasn’t even sure it mattered. He wasn’t interested in listening, anyway.
Running a hand through his hair, he sat down on the couch, elbows on his knees. “Why didn’t you come to me about the money, Lily? If you didn’t know anything about this, why wouldn’t you just come to me first about starting a rescue?”
I spun to face him, not only hurt, but angry. The longer this went on, with each word that left his mouth, I knew how wrong I’d been about Brody. He didn’t trust me, and I couldn’t count on him. “Really? Come to you for money—right. The dude that is sure everyone in the world wants in his pockets. Brilliant idea.”