by H. J. Bellus
My heart shattered the night I left Liam sleeping in his bed, and the only ones who understood how I felt were my family. Even though I lied and told them the breakup was amicable, they still took care of me. Still did everything they needed to make sure I would be alright.
“Goddamn it, Justice. This is your call, your team, but I will not stand by and listen to one negative word come out of his mouth. Whatever unfinished business the two of you have will not be done here.” He takes hold of my arm gently, spins me around to face him, and like the loving man he is, pulls me into his arms.
“He’s a professional, Dad. He is not going to bring up our past in front of you, his agent, or anyone else in there. If he didn’t want this, he would have told Alex to fuck off when he asked him to fly out here to meet with me,” I say with determination. Very little of it, though, by the way he’s looking at me. My father doesn’t buy my bullshit at all.
I step into the elevator with my father behind me, and I brace myself for the bit of fatherly advice he’s chomping at the bit to give me.
Regardless if I’m flustered and angry, I’ll welcome it, because, well, he’s my dad.
“I used to think of you like a flower waiting to bloom. This little girl who shadowed me around. Always wanting to hold my hand. I’m not sure when you discovered you had your own wings, your own momentum to drive yourself forward. Somewhere, you found it, Justice. You built up an inner strength all on your own. Liam, he’s a vulnerability for you. He’s the one you let slip away. You’ve heard the story about me and your mom many times; I don’t need to repeat it. What I do want to say is, do not let your heart cloud what this meeting is about. Stand your ground, show him this is business and nothing more. After we get him to sign, then move forward with whatever plans you have running through your head.” The gleam in my dad’s eyes does not go unnoticed; neither does the love pouring out of him.
What is it that makes us see ourselves clearer in another person’s eyes? My dad would never have agreed to my proposal if he didn’t believe in Liam, and yet here he is giving me the okay to step out of the box, to finally free myself of the agony I’ve lived with for so long I’ve lost myself somewhere. His words might not make sense to others, but they do to me. My father has always been highly demanding of me. Expects loyalty and respect and returns it in abundance when and if it’s earned.
Years ago, he wasn’t all that happy with me when I started dating Liam. We fought a lot; my dad wanted to meet the man he claimed was taking his little girl away from him. I argued back and said I was surprised he didn’t already know everything there was to know. I lied and told him over and over about why I never brought him around. I couldn’t get myself to bring him over because I didn’t want Liam associated with the crimes I knew my blood committed. I’ve lived with that shame for years. I still do.
Those feelings are what started the downward spiral to me trying to detach myself from Liam. In the end, he was on his way to the NFL, giving me the perfect excuse to tell him who I really was in order for me to walk away.
The problem was, Liam didn’t care, or at least he said he didn’t. It was me who did and me who would have bottomed out if his dream was ruined because of my name.
“I love you, Dad. I promise I will keep my heart in check.”
“I trust you will. Let’s do this. Go get the man who's going to lead this team to the Super Bowl. Then you can talk about your past.”
I rest my hand on the railing, replaying my father’s words in my head, and wonder if he and my mom ever suspected my reason for the breakup. My mind starts racing faster than the elevator with worry. It would crush me if they did.
I don’t have time to ponder when the doors open to reveal our office space.
I exhale, step out, and turn my head to see Liam talking closely with his dad and agent.
The minute he notices me, his eyes narrow with the same kind of arrogance he’s known for on the football field. He lifts his brows, scans me from head to toe, and mouths, “Game on.”
It most definitely is, and I’m way behind. Time for me to make my move.
2
Liam
“You’re about to make me jump out of this fancy car of yours. Knock that shit off.”
I glance over to my dad, whose large frame fills the front seat of my Range Rover. The man is well over six feet and still as stout as during the days he played in the NFL.
I’m not about to comment back because I know it will be strung out with a bunch of worthless swear words, so I grunt and adjust the crotch of my workout pants and keep on swerving in and out of traffic. My foot not lifting off the gas.
Why the hell I’m in a hurry beats the shit out of me. Because you want to see her, that’s why.
The Idaho Diamonds stadium comes into view. Seeing it in person instead of all over the television sure as shit brings this deal a little more to life.
The deal I’ve been putting off until the last minute.
I shake my head at the monstrosity of it. From what I know and have learned about the mafia princess, she would go and build the biggest stadium in the NFL. Un-fucking-believable.
The closer I get, the more I believe that fate is the biggest bitch of them all. She is set out to take me down once again. Little does anyone know there’s not a chance of it happening. After this meeting, we will see who takes whom down. I’ve got a lot to say, and none of it is pretty.
And hell, to think I thought of myself as a decent man.
I kill the engine and glance at my dad out of the corner of my eye, his shit-eating grin a mile wide as he leans closer to the dash, his head tilting back, eyes going up as he stares at the American flag.
“Football and USA. Now, that’s what I’m talking about.”
I chuckle. The man has always had my back. He knows how brutal this league can be and how mind games can screw with your performance on the field.
And that is the biggest reason I’m meeting with Justice. I need to see her, say what I have to say, and get her out of my head so I can focus and settle in.
It’s no big shock to the sports world that the Blake family is as tight as we are. Mom and Dad endured one hell of a childhood and came out on the other side better and stronger people.
The difference between them and me is, I’m not looking for karma to open up her black heart and do the same. Lies.
“It’s in our blood,” I add, shake my head, climb out, and the two of us stride over to my agent, Tyler McDaniels.
“You ready to make number eleven the comeback story of history?” Tyler slaps me on the shoulder.
“Not sure if I’ll make history. The only thing I care about is getting my ass back on the field.”
Tyler’s a good guy as far as a sports agent goes. Out for the buck and to sign the next big deal just like the rest. It’s all about the dollar signs to most people in this industry, and this stadium is a prime example. Justice and her family might be fooling the citizens, but I know for a fact this isn’t because they love the sport. It’s the color of the greenback they want. Well, if they want me, they better up the ante.
I shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”
Neither of the men says a word as I lead them into my personal hell. Dad knows better than to interfere with what goes down today. Tyler should; he knows Justice and my history, but it’s his job to get me the highest dollar amount he can. I honestly care more about making her life hell than the money. It seems fitting to me after the hell I’ve lived in since she walked away.
The sleek marble underneath my Nikes burns through the pads of my feet. This place screams her name. It’s perfection, marketed with their logo on every surface and as professional as any stadium I’ve been in.
If this place is any kind of representation of the Diamond family’s end goal, then I know they need me. They want power, professionalism, and prestige. I’m not one to brag about the talent handed down to me from my dad, but I’m damn good at what I do, and regardless of what some of
the teams are saying about my injury, the fans know it; and they are what matters to me. To hear the roar of the crowd, the rush after a perfect throw, and to center the ball in the receivers’ hands for the touchdown.
Tyler pushes the button on the elevator. I study the doors as they open and close with grace in slow motion, just like I did when I thought my career was over.
“Liam, I know you’ve heard this time and time again, but you need a reminder. Nobody in the NFL trusts you can play at one hundred percent. They won’t take a chance on you. The Idaho Diamonds want you. Hell, they need you. Not even the rookies wanted to come here to kick off the franchise. This is your last chance.” I want to roll my motherfucking eyes and tell this idiot I wasn’t born yesterday.
I cut Tyler’s political speech off by waving my hand in the air, not giving two fucks who I offend.
“‘You’re injured. Can’t throw like you used to.’ I’ve heard it all. I know what I can and can’t do. I’m not a child, and it would serve you well to remember that.”
I’m sick and tired of the same dog and pony show. People telling me what to do. Not only is this my career, but if I'm honest, it's also my damn heart on the line, too.
“This is an amazing deal. This is your ch—” Tyler is cut off when the elevator doors sweep open. I know all about last chances, and he sure as shit needs to shut his mouth.
The second he steps out, he kicks into Mr. Professional-show-me-the-dollar-signs sports agent, adjusting the collar of his shirt and putting on his game face. I ignore his jabbering, peer over the top of him, and feel my anger rage to a boiling point.
There she is, stepping out of another elevator with her plump mouth agape like she’s seeing a ghost. I ain’t no ghost, baby. I’m real, and you’re the one who asked me here.
Justice Bexley has perfected being a con-artist. The best of them all. The only woman to ever steal my heart and rip it to shreds.
I allow myself to study her for a few seconds before jerking my gaze away.
Everyone introduces themselves and starts to talk. Everyone but her and me, that is. Kind of ironic that this is the place where I finally meet her dad. I wasn’t good enough back then, but I sure as fuck am now.
Her damn scent taunts me from a good ten feet away as we follow her down a long hallway. It drifts, attacking my hardened soul as we enter behind her into an elaborate conference room. Sweet cherries and coconut. I’ve hated that combination for years.
Can’t help but check out her ass in that tight-ass skirt, though; it sends a jolt straight to my dick.
“Have a seat,” Cain offers, waving his hand at us. “The rest of our team will be joining us shortly.
I take the seat straight across from Justice. Not by accident either. I have plans to make her squirm.
I sprawl out in the oversized, sleek black leather chair and recline, hitching my hands behind my head. I take advantage of my legs and stretch them under the table until the tips of my shoe connects with hers. Then I drill her with my stare. It’s my damn intention to make her feel uncomfortable.
Child’s play, but I really don’t care. I want her riled up real good.
Justice clears her throat, pushes back from the table, and continues to ignore me. The redness on her neck tells me her anger is flaring.
If the rest of these men in here can’t pick up on the tension, then they are as blind as a bat trying to fly around in daylight.
I can’t help but let out a grunt. The woman looks professional. Obviously came prepared as she pulls out a stack of papers, greets the other men who enter, and smiles when she asks everyone how they are doing.
I massage some of the tension and anger from the back of my neck only to realize once again how hellish this is for me. And from the glimpses of pained expressions now on Justice’s face, she’s enduring more hurt than she’s letting on. In fact, I may have misjudged her anger for just that.
Can’t seem to give a rat’s ass at the moment. I have to be bitter and angry towards her because I can’t go through what I did in the past. Justice Bexley is a damn easy woman to love.
The proposal from the Idaho Diamonds is discussed at great length after everyone from the team looks the final offer over. It’s nothing new and rote at best. Word by word, I’m being trapped in a maze that has no escape. The Diamonds have me by the balls. It’s my only option. But I do know for damn sure it’s going to be on my own terms.
“Liam, what do you think?” Tyler prompts.
I glance over to my left to see my dad. He never shows any emotion in these types of negotiations. Today, though, he’s here for one reason, which is to support me no matter what I decide.
I honestly have no clue what Tyler is referring to. We knew what they were offering before we stepped foot in here. Besides, I pretty much checked out the minute I saw her, unable to focus on anything except her.
“Everyone out. I’d like to speak to Justice alone,” I demand, sit forward, and link my hands together.
The room falls silent with everybody’s attention on me. When nobody moves, I raise my voice repeating the same words.
Her dad isn’t someone you screw with, nor is anyone in Justice’s family. After she ran, I did my research, and the answer was crystal clear. The Diamond family doesn’t fuck around. The thing is, I’m not going to roll over and beg for this opportunity. There’s a whole lot of shit needing to be straightened out, and no one in this room is part of it.
Justice adjusts her necklace. “I’ll be fine, everyone. Please give us a few minutes.”
I gauge the interaction between her and her father. He doesn’t like it one bit. He studies her and shifts his glare to me. Not sure what he sees, but he nods and gives in after a few silent dirty expressions. The man is smart; he should have known I wouldn’t come here without drawing a fine line down the center of this stadium.
Once he gives his nod of approval, the rest follow. I wait for the sound of the door to shut, then lean farther forward and rest my elbows on the sleek tabletop staring holes into her gorgeous face.
She’s matured everywhere. Her mind, her body, and those unbelievable tits and legs. But she played me once. Busted me up. And she needs to know I’m not the same man she toyed with in the past.
“What’s the end game here, Justice?”
“What do you mean?” She mirrors my position, doing her best to match my stance.
“Out of all the dried-up, injured, or hell, even rookie quarterbacks who you could’ve baited in with dollar signs, you chose me. So, my one and only question is, what is your end game, Justice. Not going to repeat myself.”
She rises to her feet. Old habits flare up, and I find myself soaking all of her in. Not just her body, but the woman I fell in love with years ago. Her brain is shifting back and forth as she plots out her words. The woman was and still is quite easy to read when she gets angry. It’s all those other emotions she keeps inside that plays tricks with a person’s mind.
Her palms smooth down her front. I know it’s her way of calming herself.
“I don’t lose, Liam. I’ve always strived to be the best. This”—she throws her arms out at her sides—“this is a legacy for my family and me, and I want the best. Championships, family, and lifetime friendships. Those are my end games, Liam.”
The way her lower lip slightly trembles tells me a portion of the answer I need. This means more than wanting the best. More than she’s telling me.
I wondered why they invested millions of dollars, probably close to a billion of their money, then turned around and buckled a young woman in the driver’s seat. I don’t have to think too hard to get my answers now that I’ve seen her.
She’s searching for redemption and a championship all bundled in one, but if I were a betting man, I’d bet the little princess thinks I’m the answer to all her problems.
I stand and round the table, making my way to the woman who has always had her sights set on the impossible. This time little Miss Justice is going to find just h
ow impossible her dreams are. She broke the man I once was. She wants me here? Well, I’m going to get a daily reminder of how broken I am.
Her eyes go wide, and she sucks in her breath when I round the table and get in her space. I don’t stop until I grab hold of her slim waist, pulling her to me. We fit perfectly. Always have. Our chests collide, and I run my hand up through her hair, tugging her head to the side. I may have a badass shield of armor on, but this woman has always undone me. I dip my head, licking a trail from her exposed collarbone up to the shell of her ear.
“I will sign.” I kiss along her jaw until I’m at her lips. “And I’ll also remind you every single fucking day of everything you chose to walk out on after leaving me nothing but some pathetic letter.”
I’m pushing the boundaries here; hell, I’m way past them, lurking in dangerous territory.
The danger of her world is what she tried to keep me from; may as well show her how dangerous mine can be.
“Liam.” My name tumbles from her lips.
I seal my lips to hers, dip her back until she’s laid out on the boardroom table. I devour her with each lick and nip. Justice gives as good as she gets. Once her body is writhing underneath mine, I pull back, stand straight, and dip my hand into my workout pants, adjusting my raging cock. I give it a good squeeze, lift my brows, and back away.
“I’m here for one reason and one reason only, and that’s to lead a team and play football. I’m not here to make friends with my boss. The friendship sailed years ago, sweetheart.”
I don’t wait for her response before turning and striding back to the paperwork. Then I scrawl my name on the dotted line and leave.
3
Justice