For the umpteenth time since I arrived, I dial her number. But just like the last hundred times, she doesn’t pick up.
I bow my head in misery. I should be fucking happy. After all, I’m the starting quarterback for an up-and-coming team. My contract’s one of the best in the league, and this house is everything I’ve ever wanted. Six bedrooms with plenty of room and a huge backyard. I’d bought it thinking of Ellie. And Kaylee. And Butch. I’d pictured Ellie and me on matching rocking chairs, eating slices of apple pie, watching our children play. Yeah, children. I’d imagined more than one. Kaylee, of course. A tow-headed boy who looked just like me. Another boy and girl. But none of that’s gonna happen. Not after I fucked things up.
When I saw that bonus check and the ‘For extraordinary services rendered,’ I saw red. She was getting that money not only because she’d moved in but agreed to ‘babysit’ me. She could have said no. I certainly would have. I certainly wouldn’t have allowed Marty to browbeat me.
Except.
She’s not me, is she? She’s a single mother who held a mortgage and owed thousands of dollars for school loans. For years, she’d endured so much hardship, tried so hard to make ends meet. Ellie’s scholarship had covered tuition, but not room and board. So she’d borrowed to keep the wolf from the door. But from something Ruth said, it hadn’t been enough. Sometimes the cupboard went bare. So Ruth and her husband made regular trips to bring Ellie and Kaylee food. It must have been hard for Ellie to accept that charity, even if it came from her own mother. But she would have swallowed her pride for Kaylee’s sake.
God knows I didn’t endure those hardships. My parents may have ignored me, but I never had to worry about food or having a roof over my head. So who the fuck am I to judge what she did? She gave in to Marty’s demands because her job depended on it and the extra money would have paid off some bills.
But the thing that set me off wasn’t her moving in, or even babysitting me. It was the thought that she’d gone beyond what Marty had asked. That she’d spread her legs to get that money.
But would she have done such a thing? That’s the real question, isn’t it? I refused to believe her when she tried to explain. How could I? My whole life people have wanted me for what I could bring them—fame for my teammates, sex for the groupies, money for everyone else. Nobody has ever loved me for me.
But Ellie never demanded a thing from me, even when she had the best reason in the world—child support for Kaylee. No, she never asked for a dime. So why would she all of a sudden do something for money? The truth is blindingly obvious. She wouldn’t have.
God, what an idiot I’ve been.
She’d tried to explain, hadn’t she? But I hadn’t listened. Instead, I’d denied her, insulted her. And I’d hurt so much the last time we made love I’d stopped her from saying a word. Because I’m a selfish bastard, and all I can think about is my needs, my hunger, my pain. So if I’m fucking alone, it’s my own damn fault. I have no one to blame but myself.
The days crawl by, slowly, painfully. Every day, once a day, I dial her number, even though I know she won’t pick up. But it makes me happy to hear her recorded voice. When the loneliness gets to be too much, I watch that baking show she likes so much on my phone and make-believe she’s right by my side.
A week later, my stuff arrives along with a raging thunderstorm. Somehow, the thunder and lightning suit my dark mood. These movers, unlike the clowns in Chicago, are true professionals, carefully handling the boxes and the furniture, including the bed of sin. Minus the restraints, of course. I had enough smarts to remove them before I arranged the move. After they leave, I unpack the bare necessities—the coffeemaker and toaster in the kitchen. My everyday clothes. The rest I leave tucked away until I have the heart to empty them out.
During the long spring days, I meet with the coaches, train at the facility, make the media rounds. Everyone wants to know when my family will join me. I tell them Kaylee’s not finished with school yet. Which is the truth. But by June, I no longer have that excuse, and the media smells blood in the water. Rumors spread about the collapse of my marriage, although no one has the balls to ask me right out. Soon headlines pop up all over the place. One rag writes a particularly nasty article about the women who show up at my door. How on earth they found out, I have no idea. The vicious headline reads, ‘Is Brock Parker cheating on his bride?’ Bastards.
A week after the rag hits the stands, my phone rings. Ellie. My heart soars before crashing right back to earth. She never called before. Has something happened?
“Is everything okay? How’s Kaylee? And Butch?” I ask, panic in my voice.
“She’s fine. Everyone’s fine, including Butch.”
Thank the fuck.
“So you’re all settled in now?”
“Yes.” She called for a reason, but I don’t want to rush her. I’m happy just to hear her voice.
“Kaylee wants to come down for a visit.”
“She does?” Joy spears through me. I’d hoped this would happen. So much so, that I’d hired a Charleston family law attorney to establish visitation rights. She’d drawn up the papers and sent them to me. I never returned them. Because it would make my separation from Ellie more real than I could stand. But this phone call means Ellie trusts me with our daughter. And that means everything to me.
“Yes. She saw some interview on one of the sports channels. When they asked about your family, she got upset. Apparently, they hinted at our separation. So, she thought she’d come down and spend some time with you to squelch the gossip. Would it be okay for her to come down?”
“Absolutely.” I’m grinning like a kid at Christmas time.
“You sure? I mean I wouldn’t want her to cramp your style.”
“Cramp my what?” I yell. Idiot. If I want any chance of winning her back, I can’t be screaming at her. I take a deep breath and, in a more reasonable tone, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard rumors of women dropping by your house at all hours, day and night.”
“Fuck the rumors.” So much for staying calm. “I’m married to you. I’m not screwing anyone else.”
“You sure? Because I don’t want her walking into an—”
“Orgy?” I cut her off.
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t do that. When are you going to believe I’ve changed?”
“Sorry. I had to make sure.”
She doesn’t sound the least bit sorry, the witch. God, I miss her. “Well, believe it.” I tangle a hand through my hair. “When does she want to come down?”
“Sunday, if that’s okay. You’ll be in training camp soon, right?”
“In about a month or so.”
“Good. Maybe you can take her sightseeing? That should help pass the time.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” I’d love to show Charleston to Kaylee. She’ll love the cobblestone streets and horse-drawn carriages. And maybe we could book one of the boat tours and spot some dolphins.
“I’ll send you the flight details.”
“Okay.” What if I could get not only Kaylee down here, but Ellie too? We’d sit down and talk. I would say I’m sorry. She won’t accept my apology at first, but eventually, I’d sweet talk her into it. “Ellie, what if you—” But she’s already hung up.
Chapter 26
Eleanor
“MOM?” Kaylee.
It’s so good to hear her voice. She’s only been gone a few days, but I miss her more than I can say. So does Butch. He and I spend our evenings moping around the house and our nights curled up in bed. Not even baking or treats can put us in a good mood. “How are you, honey? Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you having a good time?”
“I am. But I don’t know about Brock.”
My hackles rise. He said it was okay for her to fly down there. Did he change his mind? Before I jump to the wrong conclusion, though, I need to hear what she has to say. “What do you mean?”
“It’s pitiful, mom. Except for the absolute essentials, he hasn’t unpacked a thing. And he’s been here for months.”
That’s what she’s worried about? “Honey, he’s probably busy with meetings and interviews.” Never mind dealing with all the women popping up at his front door. “Maybe he just hasn’t had the time.”
“No. That’s not it. He’s here a lot. He just doesn’t want to empty the boxes. I offered to help, but he said to leave them. And they’re a pain because those boxes are everywhere.”
My heart climbs to my throat. Oh, God. Has she seen his sex toys? When I called him with her flight details, I made him promise to hide those things. If he hasn’t kept his word, I will fly down there and strangle him. “You didn’t go into his, err—”
“Oh, please. I know all about that room. Meghan told me.”
That little busybody is too inquisitive for words.
“Don’t worry. It’s locked up tight. I couldn’t get in even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. Because, ugh. But if it’s like every other room in this place, everything in there is boxed up too.”
And hopefully padlocked as well. What sounds like a doorbell rings in the distance.
“Not again!” Kaylee huffs out.
“What is it, honey?”
“Hold on, Mom.”
She takes her cell with her because I hear the entire conversation.
“Hi, is Brock home?” some chirpy female voice asks.
“No. He’s not here. Can I help you?”
“You must be his daughter. Kaylee, isn’t it?”
Who the hell is this woman and how does she know my daughter’s name?
“Yes.”
I know that tone. It’s Kaylee’s hurry-up-and-get-this-over-with-because-I-don’t-have-time-for-you voice.
“Well, aren’t you adorable?”
Dead silence on Kaylee’s part. I don’t blame her. Since when do you call a twelve-year-old adorable?
“I’m a neighbor. I thought I’d come over and introduce myself. I brought a casserole.”
You and everyone else, apparently.
“Thanks,” Kaylee says. And then something thuds.
“Kaylee! Did you just slam the door in that lady’s face?”
“Sure did.” She doesn’t sound the least repentant.
“That’s rude, sweetheart.”
“You’d do the same thing if you were here, Mom.”
“Now why would I do such a thing?”
“Because they’re pests, locusts. The whole lot of them. You’d think those women would have something better to do than drop by day and night, always with a casserole, or a dish, or a pizza box. One even brought a bucket from the colonel. The fridge’s groaning from the food in there.”
“They’re neighbors, honey.” I try to put the best spin on it. She shouldn’t be this cynical at her age. “Maybe they’re just trying to be friendly.”
“Three cars had out-of-state tags.”
“Really?” How’s that even possible? Brock lives in a gated community with only private access. How on earth are they getting in? Are they bribing somebody at the front gate? “Just how many have shown up?”
“Since I arrived . . . about ten.”
She’s been there only a few days. “Good lord.”
“Yeah. The ones that don’t bring food ask if they can borrow a cup of sugar.” She snorts. “Like he’d have any. They’re vultures, that’s what they are. Mom, you have to get down here.”
“Honey, we talked about this. I can’t.” After Brock walked out, she’d refused to accept that he’d left for good. She’d sulked, she’d cried, she’d hidden in her room for hours on end with Butch by her side. When a week had gone by with no more arguments from her, I’d thought she’d finally come to terms with it. Turned out she’d been making plans. When she’d politely asked if she could fly to Charleston to spend time with her father, I didn’t have the heart to say no. It wouldn’t do her any harm, and I could certainly use the break from her teen angst.
Before she flew down, I’d told Brock what I’d do to his package if he did anything inappropriate. Rather than get insulted, he’d laughed and promised he’d take good care of her. Still, I couldn’t help but imagine the worst. But now it seems I have nothing to worry about. At least not until she says the next words.
“I met a boy, Mom.”
“A boy?” I hadn’t cautioned Brock about Kaylee and boys. I didn’t think I had to. Since her puppy crush on Meghan’s brother fizzled, she’d shown no interest in other teens. But she’s about to turn thirteen, so her hormones could be kicking in.
“Yeah. He lives right next door. And guess what? He loves computers, just like I do. He invited me to his house to check out his setup.”
“What?” My stomach flip-flops. Is that what teenage boys do these days? Ask innocent girls to their houses to check out computer setups? What if he’s tried something? Even worse, what if she’s let him? I frantically do a search on my phone to find the next flight to Chicago. I’m flying down there and bringing Kaylee home.
“You got nothing to worry about. His mom was there the whole time. She made us chocolate chip cookies.”
Okay. That makes me feel a little better. A very little. I can’t help but worry, though. I don’t know the boy’s mom. I don’t know the boy. I don’t know the neighborhood which seems dicey at best. After all, their ‘security’ is letting in all kinds of friendly ‘neighbors.’ “What grade is he in?”
“He’s a freshman.”
“In high school?” Please don’t let it be college.
“Yes, He’s only a year ahead of me. Anyway, you should see his equipment.”
My heart jumps to my throat. Get a grip, Ellie. She’s not talking about his junk.
Blissfully unaware of the track my mind has taken, Kaylee runs on. “It’s the bomb. He attends the number one high school in South Carolina. Number 29 in STEM education in the entire country. When he saw how good I’m at programming, he said I could probably get into his school next year. But I’d have to be enrolled here this fall. They don’t admit kids from out of state.”
Alarm bells go off. She can’t be talking about moving to South Carolina, can she? Because if she is, that’s definitely not happening. It’s one thing to spend part of her summer with her father, it’s another to move permanently to Charleston. But I can’t come at her heavy-handed. If I do, she’ll definitely dig in her heels. “Honey, they have STEM schools in Chicago as well.”
“Not rated as highly as this one, they don’t. Did you know Advance Tech has a hub here?”
Advance Tech is one of the top technology companies in the United States. They’re involved in everything from robotics to self-driving cars.
“No. I didn’t know that.”
“Kids from his high school intern there during the summer. It would be a great opportunity for me. Lots of their graduates go on to MIT.” Her dream school. No wonder she’s beyond excited about the prospect of attending that STEM school.
But no way is she going to school in Charleston. “Honey, we can talk about it when you come home for your birthday.”
“Uh, about that, Mom. I think I’ll stay down here for the rest of the summer.”
I’m breathing in and out so fast I’m going to need a paper bag. “Sweetheart—”
She doesn’t wait to hear what I’m about to say. “You can fly down so we can celebrate. All three of us. It’s not like Charleston is on the dark side of the moon.”
The three of us. What’s going on? Is this a ruse? “Kaylee, is this your way of getting your father and me back together?”
“No.” A pause. “Maybe. But I really do want to go to school here. I’m not lying about that.”
I take a deep breath, let it out. “Kaylee.”
“You like him, Mom,” she rushes on. “I know you do. And he’s totally miserable. When he’s home, he mopes around the house, watching that cooking show you like.”
“The Great Bake
Off?”
“Yeah. He blabbed about it on one of those interview shows. Like he knows anything about baking. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why some of those women drop by to borrow some sugar.”
That’s not the kind of sugar those women want.
“Mom, I really want you to come down.”
Her pleading breaks my heart. She thinks all she has to do is get Brock and me in the same house. And then magically, things will go back to the way they were. But that’s not going to happen. I can’t go back to Brock, not when he believes I sold my body for money. And she can’t attend that tech school, not when it would require me to move to Charleston. And living with her father is out of the question. Sooner or later, he’d go back to his old ways, and his daughter would be in the way. So her heart’s bound to be broken. Although hers would mend, I have doubts about mine.
But she’s right about one thing. I need to fly to Charleston so I can handle what’s happening down there. And to bring her back. No way am I leaving that city without my daughter. “Okay, honey, I will.”
“Yeahhhh! I love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, honey. Where’s your father?” He can’t possibly be there; he would have answered the door.
“He’s at the Wolves’ stadium doing some kind of training.” A tinge of worry creeps into her voice. “Are you calling him?”
“Sweetheart, I can’t drop in on him out of the blue. He has to okay my visit before I head down.” Although I suppose, I could always stay in a motel.
“Okay, but don’t tell him about my wanting to stay here. I haven’t talked about that with him yet.”
“I won’t.” My conversation with Brock’s going to take a different tack.
It takes eight rings before he picks up.
“Ellie?” He sounds out of breath. Probably doing weight training or running on a treadmill.
Roughing the Player (Chicago Outlaws Book 2) Page 19
