“She should have divorced Daddy.”
Shay looked at her sister in stunned silence. Teryn had always been Daddy’s girl.
“I know,” Teryn said. “She can’t divorce him while he’s incapacitated. But still, I hate what he did to our family. And we have a brother out there who’s living large, while our Mama works her fingers to the bone. I swear I’m never going to give a man that kind of power over me.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Teryn shrugged her shoulders. “You can’t get hurt if you don’t ever give a man your heart.”
Shay’s own heart clenched. She knew all too well what kind of trauma a woman could suffer when she gave a man her heart. Something must have shown in her eyes because Teryn pulled her in close again.
“Oh, baby, you fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
She didn’t bother denying it, instead letting the tears fall on her twin’s shoulder.
“When I saw pictures of the two of you, he looked at you as if he felt the same way. And that was most definitely not pretending. Hell’s bells, in most of the pictures he looked at you as if he were going to gobble you up. But not in the same way men look at me. It was almost . . . almost as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you.”
Shay sobbed harder as her sister stroked her hair.
“And that idiot was lucky to have you,” Teryn went on to say. “Because you are smart and beautiful.” She pushed back to an arm’s length. “Well, not at the moment. Right now you look horrible. But we’re gonna fix that in a jiffy. When I get through with you, we’re going to parade you around Baltimore and make that boy sorry he pretended anything.”
Shay pushed to her feet, stabbing at the tears on her face. “We’re leaving, remember. I have to get home and get ready for my new job.”
Teryn got to her feet behind her. “That’s another thing. How come you get to play martyr and rescue Mama? No one asked me to help.”
She turned to see Teryn with her hands on her hips, genuinely angry.
Baffled, Shay tried to make her words not sound harsh. “You’re still establishing your career. How can you help?”
“I’ve been offered a quarter of a million dollars to pose for Playboy,” Teryn said swiftly, looking everywhere in the room but at Shay.
“Teryn!” Shay hissed. “You can’t do that!”
“Who says? Apparently that’s all I’m good for. I’ll get kicked off the squad for sure, but I’m pretty much aging out anyway. Thanks to that blogger, I have a little notoriety. Why shouldn’t I make a little money to help Mama?”
“Because you don’t want to, that’s why,” Shay argued.
“Do you want to work in a prison?”
The room was quiet for a moment as they both stared at one another, the enormity of the decision weighing on them. There was no way Shay was going to let her sister pose for Playboy. Mama would be humiliated. But Teryn very much wanted to be a part of the solution and Shay didn’t want to shatter the fragile bond they were reforming.
“Remember how we used to decide who got the last Popsicle in the box or the last cookie?” Shay asked.
“You wanna flip a coin?” Teryn’s face was incredulous.
Shay smiled as she thought of those days gone by. “Yeah. We’ll flip for it. It’s the fairest way.”
Teryn sighed as she reached for her purse. “I guess so. But one flip. Winner gets to be the martyr.”
“Deal. But not here. We’ll do it under the magnolia tree behind the house, just like always.”
“You wanna wait until we get home?” Teryn asked.
“Yep. That way we can enjoy the road trip.”
Her sister broke out into a wide grin. “I’m in.”
They dug in to the pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream they’d bought earlier at Santoni’s as they caught up on their lives. Teryn had a vast circle of friends in Dallas and she was excited to have Shay be a part of it. Thanks to her time with Brody—and Julianne’s tutoring—Shay didn’t feel apprehensive at all about joining in. Perhaps going home to Texas wouldn’t be so bad after all. Later that night as the twins crawled into bed, their hands automatically linked together as they had for so many years when they’d slept together as girls, and Shay finally believed she’d survive life after Brody.
• • •
Brody’s house had been infested. By his own family. His mother had insisted on monitoring his condition and nothing short of a nuclear holocaust was going to stop her. Gwen and Ashley had descended upon him with the intent of decorating his house for the holidays.
“Really, nobody sees this place but me,” he told them over breakfast—a meal his mother was closely supervising. “Why do you have to go to all this trouble of putting up this junk?”
“So you’ll have some Christmas spirit, Mr. Grinch,” Gwen said as she hung a heavily scented wreath on the mantel.
“I don’t need any Christmas spirit. I just need my house back,” Brody grumbled. Secretly, however, he was relieved to have other people around distracting him. Bridgett had gone back to Boston, her pretrial work complete. His home was quiet without her popping in unexpectedly all the time. And without Shannon.
There was nothing left of her in his house any longer. Her smell was gone from his pillow. Her spreadsheets no longer littered his kitchen table. There weren’t any containers with Post-it Notes in the fridge any longer. It was almost as if she’d never been there. Until he went to bed at night; then the memories crowded into the room with him so that he couldn’t sleep.
“Try not to get carried away, ladies,” he warned. “You are all quick to fly down here to put this crap up, but I always get stuck with taking it down.”
“Go to practice, Brody, and leave us to our fun,” his mother said. “And make sure you keep an eye on your sugar.”
Brody didn’t need to keep an eye on his damn sugar levels because everyone else in the world was too busy doing it for him. He barely got through an hour of practice before someone—Nate, the team physician, one of the coaching staff—was checking his readings. Hell, even Jay McManus, the Blaze owner’s godson, was having him monitored.
“It’ll all blow over after a few games, Brody,” Roscoe told him as they walked from the practice field to the training center. “Just let them reassure themselves that you’re not going to keel over on the field. It’ll make the contract extension talks go more smoothly if they feel like they have some control over the situation.”
“Control over the situation or control over me?”
Roscoe chuckled ominously. “Right now, the two are one in the same. If you want to play football, you’ll deal with it.”
Nate didn’t let up the entire road trip to Miami, following Brody around like a mad scientist collecting his urine and drops of blood. Not for the first time, Brody cursed his former trainer for his big mouth. The other night, when Bridgett had forced him to finally put the pieces together, Brody had been numb. He’d spent twelve hours thinking he was betrayed by another lover, only to find out it was his friend. And Erik hadn’t even sold him out for money. It was just another reason why Brody couldn’t trust anyone with his secrets. His future looked lonely, but it beat the alternative.
Fortunately, the weather in Florida was a lot more hospitable than it had been in Denver. Brody snagged two touchdowns and DeShawn ran for over a hundred yards to carry the Blaze past the Dolphins. The flight back to Baltimore was festive with Christmas carols and talk of the playoffs.
Devlin took the seat beside Brody, a groan escaping his lips as he eased into the seat.
“You gonna make it through the season, old man?” Brody teased. The quarterback had taken a few punishing licks today when one of the offensive lineman had gone down.
“Yeah, I’ll be just fine if you can remember to block when you’re told to.”
Brody shot hi
s teammate his killer grin. “Dude, I caught what you threw to me—even the wobbly ones—and I didn’t miss a single block.” It was true. His game had been on fire this afternoon.
“None of my passes were wobbly, dumbass. Anything that came into your hands less than perfect was tipped at the line.”
“Whatever you say, old man.” Brody had enormous respect for Shane Devlin and he’d be truly sorry to see the quarterback hang up his spikes. But he knew that day was coming and he couldn’t resist teasing his friend when he could.
“Hey, that little boy, Maddox. Do you have his address?” Devlin asked.
“Sure. Why?”
“I promised him an autographed jersey. He wanted it to send to his father for Christmas. I totally forgot about it with the baby coming early. I want to get it to him so his mom can send it out. Hopefully, it will get there in time.”
Brody felt a little miffed that Maddox hadn’t asked him for a jersey. He’d already sent balls and Blaze caps to the boy’s father’s unit. But Devlin had been the Super Bowl MVP. If anything, Brody should feel a little guilty about how he treated the boy the night of Shannon’s party.
“Just give it to me. I’ll take it to him,” he heard himself saying.
Devlin stared him down, but Brody wasn’t some rookie receiver.
“Dude, you don’t trust me to take a kid a stinking jersey?”
“It’s not the kid or the jersey I’m worried about. It’s whether or not I trust you to do it without messing with his neighbor again.”
Brody blew out a breath. “Shannon and I are fine.”
It was Devlin who blew out the breath now. “Look, Brody, don’t make my mistake—”
“Jeez, Devlin, I didn’t know you made mistakes,” Brody said trying to fend off another lecture.
“Stop being a wiseass and listen to what I have to tell you. I was so caught up in thinking about my football career that I nearly lost Carly—twice; the second time to some joker’s bullet. If there’s something there between you and Shay, don’t throw it away because of a damn game. Or, worse, your stupid pride.”
“Like I’ve told you and everyone else, there’s nothing between Shannon and me.” His teeth nearly ground to dust in his head as he said it. “Now, do you want me to take Maddox the jersey or not?”
Devlin shook his head with a disgusted sigh. “Sure, Brody. Take the jersey. Just don’t trip and fall with those thick blinders on.” He clicked on his iPad and focused his eyes on the screen.
• • •
It was Monday afternoon before Brody made it to Shannon’s apartment complex. A hodgepodge of Christmas lights decorated the railings outside the various apartments, already lit up as dusk fell. He knocked on the door of Maddox’s apartment and the boy pulled the door open.
“What have I told you about opening the door to strangers?” Brody chastised the boy. It was a familiar refrain between the two, but today, instead of cheering in excitement at the sight of him, the boy’s eyes were wary.
“Brody!” Jackie’s greeting was more cheerful as she came out of the small kitchenette, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “What are you doing here?”
He lifted the two shopping bags. “Christmas gifts. Although one was a special request to be sent to Afghanistan, so I hope it’s not too late. Devlin got a little wrapped up in his new baby and he’s behind in getting it to you.”
Maddox inched toward the bag and peered in. “Whoa! Is that the jersey?”
“Signed by the MVP himself.”
“Oh, Brody. That’s so sweet. Tony will be thrilled. But Maddox will be able to give it to him in person.” Jackie’s face lit up in delight. “He’s coming home on Christmas Eve.”
“Hey, that’s terrific. I bet you’re excited to see your dad again, huh, Maddox.”
“Yep. And we’re moving to Texas. So we’re going to see Shay.” The boy’s chin went up a notch as if to say “up yours.” Brody would have laughed at the kid’s bravado if he wasn’t feeling a touch of jealousy. Crouching down on his knees, he looked Maddox in the eye and smiled. “I’m glad, little dude. Because that will make her happy. And it will make me happy knowing you’ll be there taking care of her.”
The boy’s chest puffed out. “Whatcha got in the other bag?”
“Oh, that. It’s just something I thought you’d like.”
The boy looked from the bag to his mother. Jackie nodded and Maddox ripped into the gift. Brody had stopped at the Hess gas station earlier and picked up the holiday toy truck. It was loud with flashing lights and a detachable helicopter, everything a seven-year-old could want.
“Cool!” Maddox shouted, ripping at the box.
“What do you say, Maddox?” his mother prompted.
“Thank you, Brody.” He looked over at the adjoining door to Shannon’s apartment with longing.
It was devious using a kid like he was, but Brody found himself wanting just one more opportunity to be around Shannon. “I’ll bet Shannon would love to see that. Why don’t you go show her?”
Maddox’s chin went to his chest. “I can’t.”
“Oh, Brody,” Jackie admonished him.
When he glanced up at Maddox’s mother, her eyes held both pity and disgust. Brody got to his feet.
“She’s already gone,” she said.
Brody ran his hand through his hair, confused. “She was going to stay until Christmas, next week.”
Jackie shook her head looking at Brody as if he were an idiot. “She changed her mind. After all, it’s not like there was anything keeping her here anymore.”
Twenty-seven
Brody sat in the back of the church listening but not really hearing the mass. Usually Advent was his favorite of the church seasons, but he wasn’t feeling it this year. He wasn’t feeling much of anything. The city itself was decked out for the holidays and snow was in the air. The Blaze had secured a spot in the playoffs and the team was firing on all cylinders. Even better, his health was under control and his contract extension had been finalized. But that feeling of wanting something, but not knowing what, still nagged at Brody.
Sister Agnes patted his hand with hers, much like his grandmother used to do. When he glanced over at her, there was a ghost of a sad smile on her face. He raised an eyebrow in question, but she just shook her head, her hand remaining atop his on his thigh.
“What?” he mouthed to her. Maybe the nun had had a stroke and she couldn’t talk. His heart leaped into his throat. “Are you all right?” he whispered reaching into his jacket pocket for his cell phone.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “It’s you who are troubled.”
Brody slouched back in the pew. “I was fine until you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he mumbled.
She patted his hand again and he released a tight breath.
“I’m thinking about the game,” he lied. “Chicago has a tough defense.”
Sister Agnes shook her head again. “Tsk-tsk, Brody. Stop hiding behind football.”
He yanked his hand out from under hers. “I’m not!”
She gave him that pitying grin again. “Yes, you are. You miss the girl. Just tell her you love her and get it over with. It won’t hurt. I promise.”
Brody stared at her, dumbfounded. Had the nun been smoking the incense before mass? “I don’t miss her.” Except he did. “And I’m definitely not in love with her.”
Sister Agnes tsked at him again.
“No,” he whispered hoarsely. “Loving someone means trusting them and I’m through with that. Forever.”
“And how’s that working out for you, Brody?” she asked.
A roaring began in his ears. He wanted to rail at the nun. “Is that all you’ve got?” He kneed the Bible tucked into the holder on back of the pew in front of them. “A whole book of scripture and you give me that?”
Her smile had go
ne from pitying to smug.
“Everyone I get involved with sells me out, Sister. It’s only a matter of time before you do, too.”
She pulled in a sharp breath but her gaze didn’t waver. Brody saw disappointment in her eyes and it made his stomach crawl. He dragged his fingers through his hair again as his temples began to throb. “I’m sorry, but I’m feeling pretty raw in that area right now.”
“I have a question,” she said gently. “The girl, did she sell you out?”
Brody swallowed around the boulder in his throat before shaking his head.
“There,” she said, patting his thigh again. “Deceit isn’t in you either, Brody. You were lying to everyone about your involvement with the girl. But you were lying to yourself, too. Your heart was involved. It still is. Don’t waste this opportunity, Brody.” With another pat to his thigh, she pulled out the kneeler and knelt for prayer.
• • •
Chicago’s defense punished the Blaze, but their own defense was just as ruthless. DeShawn managed to punch in the winning touchdown with twenty-nine seconds left on the clock and the crowd left the stadium jubilant and primed for Christmas on Wednesday. Coach presented DeShawn with the game ball amid a chorus of cheers.
“Thanks to a helluva block from Brody,” DeShawn shouted and the team cheered again.
“Great game, men. We’ll have training staff at the practice facility tomorrow, so make sure everyone gets their aches and pains looked at. Tuesday and Wednesday are off days, but I want everyone back ready to practice bright and early Thursday. We’ve got a short week. Don’t make me regret giving you an extra day off,” Coach barked. “Merry Christmas, fellas!”
Brody dressed quickly, wanting to get home, where he could clear his head. Sister Agnes’s words were still bouncing around annoyingly. He passed through the training room to give Nate his drop of blood when Devlin called him from the big whirlpool tub he was soaking his hip in.
“That was a pretty wicked block, Brody,” the quarterback said. “We wouldn’t have won without it. Well played.”
“Thanks.” Brody wasn’t in the mood for conversation and he made his way toward the door.
Risky Game Page 28
