“This can’t be happening,” I breathe, shoving my hands through my hair. “This can’t—”
The training facility doors fly open as Mad barrels through them in search of me. I hastily turn away from him, trying to hide my tears.
“Poppy,” he says, taking a step toward me, “Poppy, come on…”
“What do you want, Mad?” I gasp, trying to force air back into my lungs.
“I want you to look at me, for fuck’s sake,” he says firmly.
I straighten my spine and slowly turn to face him. He stands there, looking back at me with a look of bemused impatience. Of course. Maddox Walcott doesn’t do emotions.
“There’s no need to get all upset,” he tells me.
“Don’t tell me what I should be feeling,” I shoot back at him.
“Why the fuck are you angry with me?” he growls, “We’re both screwed, here.”
“You seriously don’t understand why I’m mad at you?” I laugh incredulously, “Maddox, you humiliated me back there.”
“What are you talking about?” he seethes.
“You just came right out and told our bosses we’re fucking,” I spell it out for him, “Without even consulting me. Did you not stop to think that I would want a say in what our next step should be?”
“So I took the lead,” Maddox shouts back, “It’s not like we had any other choice but to come clean.”
“I’ve been making my own choices all my life, Mad,” I tell him firmly, “I don’t need you to start making them for me now.”
“You’re bloody impossible,” he says, his inked biceps straining as he clenches his fists. “I’m not even gonna bother with you while you’re like this.”
“Fine,” I shout after him as he turns away, “Why don’t you just go hang out with that lowlife criminal Charlie Ainsworth instead. I’m sure he could use a hand carrying out your gang’s dirty work.”
My words stop Maddox dead in his tracks. Every muscle in his body seems to tighten with rage as he turns back to face me.
“Don’t you dare say a word against Charlie,” he growls, “Or about The Firm. You don’t have any bloody idea what you’re talkin’ about.”
“I know that you’re a fucking idiot to be messing around with the likes of them,” I tell him, feeling my legs go weak under the force of his gaze.
“Well then,” he says slowly, his voice deathly low, “If I’m such a fucking idiot, what does that make you for wanting anything to do with me?”
“Good question,” I reply, crossing my arms tightly across my chest.
Maddox takes a good, long look at me before turning away—for good this time. Without a backwards glance, he gets into his car and tears away from the stadium. I stand looking after him, knowing full well that I went too far by insulting The Firm. Those men are the only real family he’s ever had. But it’s too late to take back what I’ve said. Too late to take back all the things Maddox and I have done.
I’m so numb that I almost don’t notice as my cell vibrates against my thigh. It’s been going off like mad for the last couple of hours. Grabbing the device with my shaking hands, I peer down at the screen. A jolt of fury goes through my heart as I see Jason’s name on the on the screen, followed by my mother’s.
Jason: Slow news day, huh?
Mom: Care to explain this article to me, Poppy? I really can’t believe how low you’ve stooped this time…
I have to clench my teeth to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs. No matter how far I go, no matter how high I rise, this sonofabitch Jason and my goddamn family will still try to drag me back to square one. My past has been holding me back all my life, and now it may just succeed in sinking me.
“No,” I murmur to myself, marching toward my car, “No. I can handle this. I can…”
Forcing myself to remain calm, I drive away from the stadium that was just starting to feel like home. I refuse to lose this gig because of some ill-advised fling. Hell, for I all know Maddox will want nothing to do with me after I insulted The Firm back there. It’s not like I’m too thrilled with him, either. Just when we need to be a united front in dealing with this situation, we’re knee-deep in our first proper fight. Talk about fantastic timing.
The late afternoon sky tips dizzily overhead as I park outside the bungalow and head inside. All at once, the stress and anxiety of this afternoon turn my stomach, churning uncomfortably as I fumble my keys. My throat constricts as an acidic taste rises in the back of my throat. I press a hand to my mouth as I finally jimmy the door open, bolting for the first floor bathroom. Just in the nick of time, I fall to my knees before the toilet and let the inevitable happen. The sudden sickness takes me by surprise. I don’t usually have an anxious stomach. But then again, I’ve never been the subject of a world-wide smear campaign either. First time for everything, I guess.
I flush the toilet and lean back against the bathroom wall, letting my head hang forward. With the team out on the road this weekend and Maddox pissed off at me, I get the feeling that these are going to be a pretty excruciating few days. Mere hours ago, I would have killed for a day off from work. But now, I’d give anything for something to keep my mind off my quickly imploding life.
Things sure do change fast here in Atlantic City.
Chapter Nineteen
Maddox
“You want another one of those?” the bartender asks, eyeing my empty whiskey glass.
“You’re damn right I do,” I growl back at him through clenched teeth.
It’s Friday evening, and I’m hunkered down at one of the smaller bars here at the Tangier. I’m such a goddamn regular now that they agreed to put the game on the big screen behind the bar. The game I would have been starting in, if everything hadn’t gone to shit.
“Not looking too good for The Empire, is it?” the bartender points out, setting my fresh drink down before me.
“No, it bloody well isn’t,” I reply, eyes glued to the screen.
This game has been like a slow-motion car wreck. No matter how bad it gets, I just can’t look away. We’re 75 minutes into the 90-minute match, losing 3-0 to a team we should have been able to beat, easily. And even though it’s Glover’s fault for pulling me out of the match, I feel a twisting knot of guilt building in my gut as I watch my team’s anguished, angry faces up on the screen. If I hadn’t lost my cool when Glover confronted me about that stupid article, maybe I’d be out there with them now.
But instead, I’m here. Alone at the bar on a Friday night. If Poppy wasn’t so mad at me, maybe I’d call her up to commiserate. Though truth be told, I’m still pretty pissed with her about what she said yesterday. I was just starting to think that she was someone who’d be able to take me as I am, thorns and all. But then she brings up Charlie and The Firm, talking about them like they’re monsters. When you insult The Firm, you insult me too. And I don’t take kindly to being insulted. Not even by someone I let stay the night.
“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” Charlie says to the bartender, sinking into the bar stool beside me.
I glance over at my mate, feeling my jaw pulse with tension. Just because Charlie’s basically a brother to me, doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed at him, too.
“Haven’t seen you in days,” I mutter, “Been out rubbing elbows with the locals?”
“Something like that,” Charlie sighs, gratefully accepting his drink.
“You’re usually better at keeping a low profile,” I go on, my eyes hard on his face, “How the hell did your comings and goings end up in the press yesterday?”
“It’s hard to keep a low profile around you these days,” Charlie shoots back, “Looks like everyone who comes close to you ends up exposed.”
Goddammit. Charlie’s always known how to cut right down to the bone with me.
“Is it true, then?” I press him, “What the article was saying?”
“Parts of it,” Charlie shrugs, “Yeah, I’ve been meeting with some local…leaders. Times are hard for The Firm
. We need some new sources of income.”
“Have you forgotten that I’m a bloody millionaire?” I shoot back at him, “If The Firm needs money, why didn’t they just come to me?”
“Mad,” Charlie says, laying a firm hand on my shoulder, “You just got booted from your home league just for being an associate of The Firm. You think we want to see your life ruined because you bailed us out?”
“I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for The Firm. Certainly not this life,” I tell him, taking a long swig of my drink.
“And we all know that,” Charlie goes on, “And we know you’re grateful. But that’s all the more reason why none of us want to see you crash and burn.”
“What’re you tellin’ me, Ainsworth,” I press him.
“All I’m saying is, you’ve got a fresh start here in the States, so don’t be an arsehole. Don’t blow it. Sure, The Firm took you in once upon a time, but you got yourself the rest of the way here. And the fact of the matter is, you’re gettin’ to be too big a star. You cast too much light on our…shadier doings.”
“Are you breakin’ up with me or something?” I ask sarcastically.
“I just want you to know that you don’t need to tank your career out of loyalty to The Firm,” Charlie explains, “Hell, you’ll be no good to us as a pathetic, washed-up fallen football star anyway.”
It takes me a minute to sort through Charlie’s vague offering, but I finally put it together. The Firm is giving me an out. A way to remain loyal to them in spirit without losing everything I’ve built on account of my ties to them. They saved my life once when I was a grubby eight-year-old, and they’re saving it again now that my back is against the wall. I’ll never stop owing them my life, no matter how much I have to distance myself from their name. At this point, the only way to preserve myself and The Firm is to take a step back. An ocean-sized step.
“To The Firm then,” I say, raising my glass.
“Always,” Charlie nods, clinking his glass to mine.
We drink in silence as the game draws to a close on the big screen. Our opponent managed to get one more in before the 90 minutes ran out. It’s our worst loss to date, and I can feel the defeat in every bone in my body.
“Hey,” Charlie says, glancing over at me with renewed curiosity, “Was the rest of that article true? The bit about you and your trainer?”
“That it is,” I tell him, “Or at least, it was.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, brow furrowing.
“I’ve been seeing Poppy on the sly for a few weeks now,” I inform Charlie, “But since our bosses found out about it yesterday, we’ve been in a bit of a standoff.”
“What, were your bosses mad?”
“Of course they were mad,” I laugh, “Did you forget the part where this is a huge scandal that the club now has to deal with?”
“Well, exactly,” Charlie shrugs, “What are scandals if not PR gold? You’d think the club would be ecstatic to have so much attention coming their way.”
I stare at Charlie, the gears of my mind churning madly.
“Charlie, you might actually be a goddamned genius,” I say, in awe.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he winks. “Now, why don’t you go mend fences with Poppy and leave me here to pick up some tail of my own?”
“A genius, and fucking charming to boot,” I laugh, giving him a clap on the back.
I do as Charlie suggests and leave him at the bar, but I don’t go right to Poppy’s place. First, I’ve got to go see a failed casino magnate about a certain scandal.
Chapter Twenty
Poppy
Since all of my friends are back in New York and I’m not exactly the Tinder-ing type, I guess I have two choices for this Friday night. One, I could hit up one of Atlantic City’s fine male strip clubs. Two, I could crack open a bottle of red wine and curl up with a novel. Magic Mike XXL vs. Pride and Prejudice…Now that’s a tough one.
I can’t bring myself to watch the game. It’s bad enough that I can’t be there, I don’t need any salt in that particular wound. Instead of torturing myself, I do the very opposite and treat my body to a nice, long yoga session. My muscles are wound up like springs after the last couple of days. Hardly surprising, what with my and Maddox’s first—and maybe last–fight.
Heading up the spiral staircase to take a shower, I wonder whether or not I should give Mad a call. Even a text could initiate peace talks. But is there even any point in trying to talk things through, seeing as the club might ban us from being together anyway? There are just too many moving parts in this conundrum for me to keep track of. First things first: a shower, a glass of wine, and a few chapters of Jane Austen. I need to relax before I make any big decisions.
I let the hot water cascade down my body, savoring the warmth against my tired body. I’ve grown unaccustomed to sleeping apart from Maddox. Usually, I’m so tired out by our athletic lovemaking that I sleep like a rock. But without Mad around to tire me out, I’m having trouble quieting my anxious mind. Even now, in the early evening, I’m having trouble shutting out my most pressing worries. Am I going to lose my job over this affair? What will I tell my parents? Is there any chance that Mad and I will be able to carry on with…whatever it is we’ve got going?
My reeling thoughts are interrupted by a powerful knock on the bungalow’s front door. Turning off the shower, I stand rooted in place, hoping that whoever it is outside will just go away. No dice. Moments later, a louder knock rings through the beach house. My heart starts to pound as I grab a towel and pad toward the front bedroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of my visitor. What if Jason has showed up on my doorstep again, looking for trouble? Or what if some intrepid reporter has tracked down my home address in search of a follow-up story.
“Poppy!” a rich voice calls from my front porch, “Poppy, are you in?”
Relief and excitement commingle in my blood as I hear Maddox’s voice loud and clear. Clutching the bath towel to my body, I can feel every one of my cells perk up with hope. He’s here. At my house. But what does that mean? Is he here to make amends or call things off for good? Only one way to find out. I step lightly down the spiral staircase to ground floor and head for the door on quavering legs. So flustered am I by Maddox’s sudden appearance that I completely forget about my state of undress…until I open the door, that is.
Maddox’s eyebrows raise in surprise as he takes in the sight of me in my towel. I blush furiously as my foolishness hits me, not least of all because Maddox himself is dressed impeccably as usual. In his black jeans, charcoal gray tee shirt, and distressed leather jacket, he’s the epitome of easy cool. His brown hair is lightly tousled, the stubble on his jaw slightly more pronounced than usual. His grey eyes gleam with amusement as I hurry away from the doorway, ushering him inside before any unseen paparazzi can get a shot of me.
“Nice getup,” he notes, as I close the door behind him, “Did you put on your best bath towel just for my sake?”
“Oh, shut up,” I mutter, tying the towel in place and trying to ignore the pressure between my legs as Maddox enters my home. His mere presence is enough to get me going.
“Are you on your way out?” Mad asks, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he sounded a little jealous. Of my imaginary plans, that is.
“Not right this second,” I say vaguely. Best to not let him know that my plan for this evening is drinking alone and reading about bustles.
“Good. That’s good,” Mad says, “Because I need to talk to you about something.”
Oh god, I think to myself, That’s never a good start…
“Right. OK,” I stall, heading for the kitchen, “I’m just gonna go ahead and pour myself a drink first. Do you want anything?”
“I always do,” Mad replies, practically vibrating with pent-up energy. Whatever he has to tell me, I get the feeling it’s big. But whether I’m celebrating or mourning after he’s said his piece, a drink will come in handy ei
ther way.
“So,” I go on, pouring two deep glasses of Merlot and handing one to Maddox, “What is it you want to talk about?”
“Our little predicament, obviously,” Mad says, letting his eyes trail down my nearly-naked body.
“Oh. Right. That,” I reply softly, taking a long sip of Merlot as that pounding between my legs intensifies.
“Now, when I first read that article in Glover’s office, my first thought was—we’re fucked then, aren’t we?” Maddox begins, pacing before me like a caged lion. “Especially given how mad Glover and O’Leary seemed about the whole thing, not to mention you getting pissed off at me for coming clean—”
“And rightly so,” I cut in.
“Sure. Whatever,” Maddox goes on, “It seemed like a done deal, us getting forced apart. But then, I was talkin’ to Charlie earlier—you know, your favorite lowlife criminal?”
“Ha, ha,” I reply, “You slay me, Walcott.”
“I was talkin’ to Charlie, and he gave me an idea. If the press is trying to make our ‘secret affair’ into a scandal, why don’t we just beat them to the punch and cash in on the press coverage instead? The club wouldn’t be able to say no to that kinda publicity.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you,” I tell him, “Beat them to the punch how?”
“Right now, your little snitch of an ex and all the gossip mills he’s whispering to have all the power. They think we don’t want anyone to find out about us, that it would be some huge disaster if the word were to get out.”
“Hasn’t it already been just that?” I ask.
“We just haven’t been thinking about it the right way,” Maddox says excitedly, taking a step toward me, “What if, instead of trying to shut down the rumors about us, we fuckin’ embraced them? What if we owned being the Empire’s resident power couple and used it to our advantage instead?”
“Mad,” I begin, shaking my head, “I really don’t think Glover and O’Leary will go for that. Not after yesterday’s blowup.”
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