For the first time in franchise history, the Seattle Knights were headed to the Super Bowl.
“How are you feeling, boss lady?” Gaige asked Riley. She had been quiet since they got here—unusual for her.
“I wish my grandfather was here to share this with us.” A little teary, she rested her head on Sean’s shoulder.
Gaige understood how Riley felt. Douglas Preston had been one of those men you either loved or hated. Bigger than life, he dominated a room—and every conversation. When Gaige was drafted by the Knights, Douglas embraced him as a son. He invited him to his home and his table. He had been more than the team’s owner; he became a friend. His passing had left a hole in all their lives.
“Do you think he’s up there, enjoying the ride?” Gaige posed the question to Violet.
“A higher power?” She smiled. Yes, her eyes told him, she remembered. “I’m still on the fence. But I would like to think so.”
“When we met,” Gaige explained to their friends, “Violet asked me if I believed in God. Or Buddha. Or fairies dancing around a blazing fire.”
“Late at night,” she added.
“Late at night.” Gaige brushed his lips over her forehead. “Neither of us were completely on board. But I agree. It would be nice to think of Douglas, a cigar in one hand, a whiskey in the other, sitting on a cloud cheering us on.”
“I like that,” Riley smiled. “His voice booming through the heavens, cursing the officials. If you’re allowed to curse up there.”
“Douglas made his own rules. If he wants to curse, he’ll curse.”
VIOLET WONDERED IF love ever stopped growing. Was there a limit to how big it could get. It seemed every day, she loved Gaige more than the day before. Little things he did. A glance he sent her way. Last night, after hearing the words he spoke to Riley—the way he made missing her grandfather a little more bearable, Violet thought her heart would burst from her chest.
As she packed her suitcase, she wondered why she hadn’t told him how she felt? What was stopping her? Violet sighed. No. She knew why. It was ridiculous, but she wanted him to say the words before she did. Admitting that to herself made her feel needy and immature. But it didn’t change a thing.
“I wish I could stay.”
“Me too.” Gaige walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Between practice and media obligations, my time won’t be my own for the next two weeks. But I will miss not holding you at night.”
“I’m needed in New York.”
“You’re needed here.” Gaige turned her around. “I need you.”
“That’s good to hear.”
She willed him to say the words. I love you, Violet. Instead, she received a very satisfactory kiss. It felt like I love you. For now, she would settle for that.
“We won’t see each other for almost two weeks,” he reminded her. “Facetime isn’t quite the same.”
“All I want is for you to concentrate on getting ready for the game.” Violet shook her head. “Theoretically, I understand why there’s a two-week gap, but don’t you want to get to it?”
“It’s all about the hype. Which adds up to more money in everyone’s pockets. On the field, football is a game. The rest of the time, it’s big business.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Look around.” He spread his arms. “I would be a hypocrite if I complained.”
“Complain all you want. I won’t tell anyone.”
Gaige laughed, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “Maybe later.” He pulled her close, his kiss sweet. “I wish you would let me take you to the airport.”
“And cause a riot?” She followed him out the door to the waiting taxi. “You would be mobbed. Do us both a favor, stay here and veg out. You’ve earned it.”
They both knew that the instant Violet was gone, Gaige would be on his way to Knights’ headquarters. There was too much to do between now and Super Bowl Sunday. Two weeks seemed like a long time, but for Gaige, the days would fly by. For Violet, it would seem like an eternity.
“Call me the second your plane lands.”
“I will.”
Violet didn’t know why, but she felt a chill race down her spine. She wasn’t big on premonitions. Everyone had those moments when it felt like their world was about to turn on its side. Nine times out of ten, nothing happened. It was that tenth that had her suddenly on edge.
“Hey,” Gaige said when she threw herself into his arms. “What’s this about?”
“I—” How could she explain the feeling? She shook her head. “I’ll miss you.”
“I know.” He hugged her close. “Two weeks. And phone calls every night.”
Violet watched him until the taxi turned the corner. She gave herself a mental shake. Gaige was right. It was only two weeks. She had his phone number. His face had a permanent place in her mind and her heart. No one could keep them apart. She knew all of that. But the feeling of unease followed her onto the plane and all the way to New York.
“ARE YOU READY for one more mindless press conference?” Sean asked.
“It’s not so bad. Yesterday a reporter wanted to know if I were a natural blonde.”
Sean snorted. “She asked because she was hoping to find out for herself. Paula Brand isn’t a reporter. She’s a groupie with a press pass.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
“Yes,” Sean answered without hesitation. “In my wilder days. I don’t know why I ever thought I needed anyone but Riley.”
“Sure you do. You were young, and your dick did your thinking for you.” Gaige slapped him on the back. “Luckily you finally grew up.”
“Come on, you two,” Logan called out. “The sooner we get there the sooner I can meet Claire for dinner.”
“Food and a beautiful woman.” Sean sighed. He shot a look at Gaige. “When is Violet getting here?”
“Not until Saturday. She has a surgery scheduled on Friday. She’s taking the first flight the next morning.”
It was mid-week. Meet the press day. He, Sean, and Logan were doing a joint Q and A session that would last until three o’clock. After that, all official interviews were over. The next three days were set aside for practice and strategy sessions. Gaige was ready for the circus to leave town so they could get down to serious football business.
Gaige took his seat next to Sean, ready for the same old same old. The next twenty minutes were exactly that. There were no questions that hadn’t already been asked and answered at least a dozen times. But they remained gracious and friendly. This was part of the job—a small price to pay when you considered the alternative. They could be sitting at home, waiting for next year.
The conference was winding down when a buzz started at the back of the room. Gaige exchanged puzzled looks with Logan. Sean looked at his phone.
“Shit. Gaige,” Sean put a hand on his arm. “We need to get out of here.”
“What happened?”
Out of the corner of Gaige’s eye, he saw Harry Coleman enter the room, followed by Riley. They were making their way to the dais when all hell broke loose.
“Gaige,” a faceless voice called out over everyone else. “Did you know that your father placed a twenty-five-thousand-dollar bet on Baltimore to win?”
Son of a bitch. Gaige knew that the Knights’ management wanted him out of there before he answered. But he wasn’t letting the world think he had anything to hide. Or anything to do with Don Benson.
“I will answer the question.” The room quieted. “Only the one. Let me make myself clear. I have no control over my father’s actions. Nor did I have any knowledge that he was going to place a bet on the outcome of the Super Bowl.”
Gaige stood to leave. Questions flew from every direction, noise level rising, but one of the reporters managed to get his attention.
“Gaige! Gaige! Why did your father bet against the Knights?”
Though Riley urged him toward the exit, Gaige paused. He leaned down near the
microphone to make sure everyone heard his answer.
“I guess he’s a Baltimore fan.”
IT WAS ONE of those days. From the moment Violet arrived at the hospital, she hadn’t been able to catch her breath. In a pinch, she went beyond her duties as an in-house eye specialist. There seemed to be a never-ending series of fires to put out. Three doctors were out sick. A bus crash. Three cabs diverged at an intersection at exactly the same moment. And that was only her first hour.
She missed lunch, which wasn’t unusual on a normal day. However, by mid-afternoon, she was thrilled with a few minutes to kick off her running shoes, put up her feet, and feast on a carton of yogurt with a questionable expiration date.
Pauline joined her in the lounge carrying two large cups of coffee.
“Where did you get this?” Excited, Violet removed the lid, inhaling deeply.
“The new orderly has a crush on me.”
“Danny?” Violet sighed with pleasure at her first sip of the dark, steaming liquid.
Pauline nodded. She kicked off her shoes and joined Violet. “I told him I was married—happily. He claims that all he wants is to bask in my beauty.”
Violet almost spit out her mouthful of coffee. “It’s a good line.”
“It’s bullshit. But that doesn’t mean he can’t make himself useful. I told him to bask by going for a couple of tall and blacks. I have to admit it wasn’t a hardship watching that tight ass hustle across the street.”
“You’re shameless.” Violet took another drink. “And I love you.”
“If you want, I can get lover boy to hustle us up a pizza on his next break.”
“That sounds heavenly, but I’m out of here in an hour. It’s Dad’s birthday.”
“Send him my best.”
“I always do.”
They sat in blissful silence, enjoying their coffee. It took only thirty seconds for their solitude to be interrupted.
“I hate modern technology,” Pauline grumbled, not opening her eyes as Violet reached for her phone.
“Says the woman with three iPads.”
“Just for reading.”
“Right,” Violet laughed. Her smile widened when she saw who was calling. “Claire. How is everything in Florida?”
“I take it you haven’t seen the news?”
Violet straightened, setting down her cup. “No. Did something happen?” Not Gaige, not Gaige.
“No injuries. But Gaige is dealing with some family crap.”
It didn’t take long for Claire to give Violet the details. They were fairly straightforward.
“What does that mean? Is Gaige in trouble?”
“No,” Claire assured her. “The NFL’s commissioner will look into it—an investigation is pretty much mandatory. But the jerk bet on the other team. Plus, Gaige hasn’t spoken to his father for years.”
“Twenty years,” Violet qualified.
“It’s a tempest in a teapot. Five days before the game, the press has latched on to the story. They see it as a juicy bone—it isn’t. The speculation about Gaige’s involvement petered out after the first hour. Now it’s all about his sad childhood and estrangement from his family.”
“How is Gaige?”
“Right now?” Violet could hear the worry in Claire’s voice. “He’s at a low simmer. But the boil is coming. He’ll blow his top. Logan and Sean are with him, ready to take one for the team. They won’t let him smash his fist into a wall or do much damage to the hotel room.”
“I’ll call him right away.”
“That’s a good idea. Don’t worry when it goes to voicemail. Riley made him shut off his phone. Look, I have to go,” Claire said. “Try not to worry. I know, not an easy thing to do. But when you get down here on Saturday, this will have blown over.”
As soon as she hung up, Violet phoned Gaige. It went to voicemail, as Claire had said it would.
“Gaige.” She tried to sound cheerful instead of panicked. “I know this feels like a kick in the gut. But remember, your friends are here for you. I’m here for you. Call me when you get the chance.”
“I heard enough to figure out what happened.”
“Gaige broke away from his father—left the bastard in his dust. Why?” Violet turned to Pauline. “Why now?”
“You said it yourself; he’s a bastard.”
Violet’s first instinct was to get on the first plane south. But she didn’t know if that would be best for Gaige. All it would take was a little digging to find the connection between her and his father. For all she knew, some industrious reporter already had the information. She didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by showing up unexpectedly. She would wait to hear from Gaige. Whatever he wanted, she would go along.
“Do you think this will affect the game?”
“Gaige is the most focused person I’ve ever met. He won’t let this get in his head.”
Violet believed her words. But because it couldn’t hurt, she sent good thoughts Gaige’s way. Then for good measure, she mentally crossed her fingers.
“WHEN YOU DECIDE it’s time to hit something, let me know.” Sean held up a pillow. “You can aim for this, not the wall.”
“I’m not going to hit anything. Unless it’s your face.”
“Ouch.” Sean backed away. “I object. Though if anyone can pull off a black eye, it’s me. I’m so good looking, nothing can detract from this beautiful face.”
“Beautiful?” Logan scoffed.
“Riley says so.”
“Jesus.” Gaige flopped into a chair. “Just what I need, a poor man’s Laurel and Hardy.”
“He’s Hardy,” Logan and Sean said simultaneously, pointing at each other.
Gaige rolled his eyes. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t need babysitters. If I have to stick to my hotel room, I would rather do it alone.”
“Ya. Good luck with that.” Logan picked up the hotel phone. “I’m starving. What do you guys want from room service?”
“BLT and fries. Gaige.”
“Nothing. Unless they can tell me where my father got twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“Maybe he borrowed it.”
“Between them, his friends, what few there are, don’t have a pot to piss in. No, there’s something going on here that doesn’t add up.” Gaige began to pace. “I pay the bills. My parents’ rent. Their groceries. But it goes to someone else. They don’t see a dime of the money. Once a month, I send my mother a few bucks for her personal use.”
“Does she use it on herself?”
“Hell, no,” Gaige sneered. “She gives it to him the second the deposit is made. But that is her choice. He blows it on booze, and I don’t want to know what else.”
Frowning, Sean rubbed his chin. “Does he have a job?”
“Off and on. Mostly off. Give me your phone.”
“Why?” Logan asked, exchanging looks with Sean.
“I’m going to call my mother. If she doesn’t tell me, he will.”
“If it will make you feel better.” Logan passed him the phone. “But does it really matter?”
“I need to know. If his source is something illegal, my mother will take the brunt when it blows up in his face—which it is bound to do.”
Logan and Sean didn’t try to talk him out of it. Not that they could have. Gaige took a deep breath and waited. One thing he could count on was that his mother would be home. She went to church, and she waited on her husband, with the occasional side trip to the emergency room. God, he hated this. The timing couldn’t have been worse. And his father knew it.
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Oh.” There was a pause. “Hello.”
“You know why I’m calling.”
“I… No. Why? Should I?”
You would think Wynona Benson would be a better liar. After over forty years, she should have picked up a few tips by watching her husband.
“I’ll make this short and sweet. Where did he get the money?”
“Money
? What money?”
“Wynona!” Don Benson’s voice carried to Gaige. “Where’s the remote?”
“I don’t know, dear.”
“Well, look for it. Jesus Christ. Why are you on the phone? If that’s one of those do-gooder church bitches, tell them to go to hell. On second thought, I’ll do it.”
“It’s Gaige.” It sounded like his mother had her hand on the receiver, but Gaige could hear every word. “He wants to know where you got the money.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No! Of course not!”
“Let me have the phone. It’s time our boy was told a thing or two.” Wynona didn’t protest, she never did. “Hey, big shot.”
“That was quite a chunk of change.”
Gaige was surprised at how calm he felt. His gut wasn’t churning. His palms weren’t damp. His father no longer evoked fear or loathing. What he felt was sadness. This man represented his crappy childhood. But he had no control over Gaige’s future.
“It kills you, doesn’t it?” Don chuckled. Gaige could almost smell the alcohol through the line. “I bet on the other team. How does it feel to know that not even your old man thinks you can win?”
It was so absurd, Gaige wanted to laugh. The booze had pickled the man’s brain. Care that he had bet on Baltimore? Gaige was elated. Now he was certain they were going to win.
“The money.”
“Oh, right. I’ll bet that one must have stuck in your craw.” Don cackled “I tell you what. Because I’m in such a good mood. I’m going to tell you what you want to know. Are you sitting down? This is going to burn your ass.”
GAIGE COULDN’T GET his wish to be alone. Sean and Logan refused to leave. Especially when he told them what he had found out—and what he planned to do about it.
“It’s a bitch,” Sean said. “Hell, it’s a fucking train wreck. Take a deep breath and think this through. You’ve worked too long and too hard to spend Sunday in a cell instead of on the field. Even if the cops are Knights’ fans, they won’t let you out on a murder charge.”
“No one is going to die.”
After The Fire (One Pass Away Book 3) Page 17
