The Quarterback: A New Adult Sports Romance ~ Landyn (The Rookies Book 1)

by Zoë Lane

  “And I don’t deserve this, so please let me go.”

  I released her as she pushed against my chest and stumbled back into the front door. We stared at each other for what seemed to be long enough for my food to go cold, for her to leave, but nothing.

  Her veiled expression had me searching for anything on her face to clue me in to her feelings. Her lips pressed together, the dent between her brows… definitely mad. Yet she stood there staring at me, not making the exit she had been so eager to a few minutes ago.

  Her lips parted, and she released a sigh.

  In one stride, I had her back in my arms. I wanted to bruise her lips with my own, make her forget all about Heather, Bryan, and professionalism. I gently held mine to hers, giving her the chance to shove me back and slap me—all of which I deserved.

  She did neither.

  Her lips clung to mine. I kneaded hers softly and she responded with the softest of moans. Not wanting to make her regret the choice, I quickly ended it and released her.

  “I’m sorry for everything. You’ll get nothing but cooperation from here on…in everything.” I emphasized the last word, as much as I hated myself for saying it. There was no lie I wished to say more. I couldn’t do that to her; not after last night, and not after this morning.

  Her wistful smile made me breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Señor Landyn!”

  “Carmencita?”

  Before Rose could unlock the door, Carmencita had opened it and flown by us.

  “Carmencita, what is it?”

  Rose and I followed her into the den, where Carmencita had found the remote and turned on the television.

  Carter Gallagher was standing on the front porch of what I assumed was his house—or probably his wife’s—speaking into several microphones.

  “My son isn’t who you think he is. Even the partying, I’ll give him that, he wasn’t into that much growing up. What he is, though, is someone who doesn’t care about the welfare of his loved ones. I…” The man actually choked and willed tears to the brim of his eyes. “I was ill for a few years. Thought I might die from the cancer. Never once heard from him.”

  Cancer? And it hadn’t killed him?

  “I was the one who got him his first football. Taught him how to throw—”

  “That’s a damn lie!”

  “Landyn,” Rose said softly, gripping my arm.

  I wanted to fly at the television, rip it off the wall, but it was just the vehicle of the message.

  “He’s not the guy you see playing with kids or caring about sick patients. He doesn’t have an empathetic bone in his body.”

  “Then how do you explain the camaraderie he had with his team back at Southwestern?” a reporter asked.

  “What camaraderie? Did you hear any of his Heisman Trophy speeches? The boy only cares about himself.”

  I closed my eyes. Dammit. Those YouTube videos were going to get a lot of views and confirm everything my father was saying about me.

  Rose slipped her hand into mine and squeezed it.

  “My wife is six months pregnant with our first child. His step-brother. He wants nothing to do with him.”

  My mouth fell open, but not came out. I went rigid, and a fear I’d never known struck me to the core. I have a brother? I was going to have a brother. A helpless, defenseless baby brother.

  “That’s why I’m afraid for this team. I couldn’t be more proud of a team here in my hometown, but with Landyn at the helm, it’s not going to be a winning one. He’s still young, and he’s got distractions.”

  “What do you mean distractions? The clubbing—”

  “Oh, no. His sister.” Carter frowned. “I tried raising a little lady, but it was hard without having a mother figure in her life, you know? Their mother ran out on them, leaving me”—he chuckled—“a real doofus, like any other dad left home alone with his kids for a few hours. I could protect and serve, but I wasn’t a mother. Anyway, Lacey’s failing school, hanging out with the wrong crowd.” He stared deeply into the camera. “I’m afraid for her life. Remember that serial killer they caught living in that crack house killing prostitutes? Every night I pray my baby girl isn’t with a guy like that.”

  Carmencita and Rose gasped. I stumbled back and onto the couch, taking Rose with me.

  Carmencita began cursing in Spanish. Rose’s voice faded from comprehension. All I could think about was this man had just claimed—on national television—that his daughter was a prostitute, and probably on drugs. “She’s never going to live that down.”

  I’m not sure how long Carter spoke or what else said, my mind numb and my gaze distorted. Carmencita paced the room, her hands going up to heaven, her voice calling out to God, while Rose also paced a smaller route while talking into her phone. I kept my eyes on Rose.

  “YouTube…”

  She didn’t pause her walking, but she did acknowledge me with a glance. “Had them taken down after the media practice.” She continued talking to whoever was on the other end of the line.

  Well, at least that was something.

  “There’s no way we can avoid it now.” Rose stopped pacing. Her eyes met mine. “I don’t think he’s ready for it.”

  Murder?

  Oh, I was ready for it. I’d even watched a few episodes of Dexter to perfect how I was going to dispose of the man’s body. I was hooked on that show now. Where had I been when it had originally aired?

  “Yes, Helena. Yes, I’m on it.”

  Helena? An associate, probably.

  “There’s something else I want to try.” Rose looked deeply into my eyes. “You might not—actually, I think you might prefer this idea.”

  A new idea? I’d hope it was something other than me talking to the media, except the more I sat here, the stronger I had a desire to set the record straight.

  Rose clicked off her phone and swiftly came to sit beside me on the sofa. “Landyn, there’s no time. We can’t wait for the children’s hospital. We need you in front of cameras.”

  My gaze clung to hers, my hands finding her smaller ones. Our fingers interlaced. “And say what? What the hell could I possibly say—”

  “Talk about your childhood,” she interrupted swiftly. “Talk about the abuse.”

  I opened my mouth but no words came. The abuse? Talk about something only few people knew. A subject that made me feel both stronger than I physically was now, and more helpless than my soon-to-be newborn baby brother. I had survived it, and it had driven me to what I’d accomplished, but I hated what it had done to me mentally, and how I couldn’t even talk about it without conjuring murderous thoughts about my father.

  And even my mother.

  “Talk about how Carter’s actions drove your mother away. How your childhood forged you into the strong man you are today. Someone who strives and reaches goals, and that’s what you taught the kids at summer camp.” She squeezed my hands, her forceful words igniting life and hope in me. “Talk about the beatings you took for your sister, and how she’s faltering in adjusting to freedom, but she’ll overcome, and she’s not a—”

  “Lace!” I jumped up. I’d forgotten about her. Severing my connection with Rose, I ran to my sister’s bedroom.

  I knocked softly, hoping she was still asleep. When I didn’t get an answer, I slowly opened the door. I saw her, sitting up in her bed, and heard the television.

  She turned to me, her face streaked with tears.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ROSE

  “He wasn’t after money, or even fame. He wanted to abuse his children one last time. First he’d done it in the privacy of his own home. Now he wanted to do it on a national stage,” I said soberly to a conference room full of not only my bosses, but Landyn, his leadership, and even his sister.

  “What have you outlined as a plan of attack?” Angela Bassett asked me, her eyes shining with what I interpreted as pride.

  Really, Cerberus should’ve been giving this presentation. But Helena had come to me hou
rs before, saying that it was going to be up to me as the lead fixer on this case. I was way ahead of all of them, having already called Rochelle to set up this meeting. With any luck, we’d have our story prepared for the evening news, and that’d be the last thing on people’s minds as they went to sleep.

  Nerves banished, I didn’t just want to fix this; I wanted to bury Carter Gallagher for good. Helena had already set up an additional meeting with Carter back at our office. It was the nuclear option, one that I wouldn’t employ if I didn’t already know my first idea was just a Band-Aid.

  My eyes caught Landyn’s and I proceeded. “Part of the solution is to continue the original plan to rehabilitate Landyn’s reputation. We have an appointment at the children’s hospital that we’re not going to miss. Showing him caring for children after admitting the abuse he himself had received as a child is going to be a powerful statement against Carter’s allegations.”

  Angela Bassett stood. “And with this organization’s commitment to children, we’ll announce the formation of a charity that’ll give scholarships to children from abusive homes, with Landyn being the spokesperson.”

  I watched Landyn’s reaction to the news of the charity as well as Lacey’s. Lacey hugged her knees to her chest, her head tilted downward. Landyn’s eyes never left me.

  “I get it, and it’s all good, but it seems so cold,” Landyn spoke.

  I swallowed, feeling our connection strain and anticipating being on the defensive. It was a good plan. A really good plan. “Carter’s shown us his hand as attention-seeking. There are pundits already questioning the timing of his statement—right before game one. Tactical error on his part.”

  Landyn nodded. “Okay, but…what about his wife? We all just saw her on the news. She’s pregnant…”

  The afternoon news spot had been dominated by Carter’s new wife. Tearful and pregnant. Rubbing her belly and pontificating about the joy of life and children—and her struggle to have one later in life. It was well played. Had me believing that she was in on it with her husband.

  “We knew she was pregnant,” Helena spoke up. Landyn’s eyes shot to mine. “Her appearance on television cements our belief she and her husband are both working the media for attention.”

  Landyn’s eyes were wide at first, until they became slits. I kept my gaze steady on him. Yes, I knew about the pregnancy. No, I hadn’t told him. Having just learned about his abuse, I wanted to consult the firm about how best to proceed.

  Landyn cleared his throat, his voice hard. “She can’t know the truth. What if…?”

  The room stilled. What if she’d face the same abuse?

  Landyn continued. “Learning the truth could be hard for her, and the baby. I don’t know if we should do this.”

  “There’s no guarantee that she’ll even believe it.” Helena spoke for the first time. “Besides, she has her miracle baby. She’s not in any emotional state to accept that her husband is a child abuser.”

  “Lacey?” Landyn turned in his chair to his sister, who refused to look up. “Lace, do you have any thoughts?”

  Head still down, she shook it.

  Landyn sighed heavily and nodded. Coach Hicks gripped Landyn’s shoulder and shook it gently before leaning in and speaking softly to him.

  Helena caught my gaze and sent me a single nod. Cerberus was in conversation with the owner and Rochelle. I took a deep breath to settle my anxiety as the adrenaline began to wear off.

  Helena stood before me. “Excellent job,” she whispered. “This will be handled. I’ve called the news stations, and they’ll be here in the press room downstairs in a few hours. Plenty of time to meet with Carter and be back here. You’ll need Landyn looking his best—”

  “Actually, Helena, I think if he just looks…normal, it’ll go over better. He’s a young man, on a Saturday, waking up to hear the horrible things his father said about him. I think he should look like he just came from practice. Someone who’s moving forward.”

  Helena nodded. “Okay. Okay, that’s good.”

  Landyn walked into our huddle and pulled me aside. “You knew she was pregnant?” his voice hissed.

  “Yes, but it was a matter of how to tell you. Not that I wasn’t going to,” I replied firmly.

  Heavy streams of air flowed out of flared nostrils. I made no more attempts to justify my brief silence. One crisis at a time. He had to trust me.

  His features relaxed. “I’ve got practice, but Lacey…”

  I touched his arm. “Don’t worry about her. I’ll see she has everything she needs. Don’t change out of your pads at the end. We’ll do the press conference right afterwards. Show you’re not going to let any of this stop you. Then we’ll go to the hospital tomorrow.”

  “It’s not that I hate kids…I just…”

  I smiled as he averted his gaze, his eyes watering. “You don’t have to explain, not unless you want to. And what you’re feeling now, this is what makes our response not cold.”

  “Just remember to bring that emotion with you to the press conference,” Helena said, walking up to us.

  Coach Hicks came forward. “Landyn, let’s get to practice. Take whatever you’re feeling and let it out on the field. It’s the last one before Thursday, so make it a good one.”

  Landyn’s smile remained small. He winked at me before he and Coach Hicks left the conference room.

  “Rose, I’m feeling confident about this,” Rochelle said from the table. I walked back to sit down.

  “So am I. I’d already planned to have Landyn reveal the abuse during the children’s hospital visit, so now…it’s just moved up a day.”

  “It’s a shame he didn’t report Carter.”

  “He was a police officer. Who would believe Landyn?”

  “Scars? Bruises?” Rochelle said with persistence. “Carter couldn’t have an explanation for everything.”

  “Landyn felt too scared,” I said quietly. “Anyway, I don’t blame him. I couldn’t imagine…not even how I would’ve reacted in that scenario. None of us can.”

  Lines marred Rochelle’s round face. Her voice was resigned. “Well, he’s going to have to be ready to explain his side of things. Answer the tough questions, because we know there will be some.”

  “We can always plant people in the crowd to ask only the questions you want him to answer,” Helena suggested.

  Rochelle’s eyes darted between Helena’s and mine. “You don’t think that’s…deceptive?” She directed the question at me.

  “It’s done every day in the news media,” Helena answered. “People don’t ask the tough questions. At press conferences, they don’t call on certain reporters with different viewpoints. This is no different. You want to control the narrative about your organization, then control it. That includes deciding which questions to answer, and which to leave on the table.”

  “The only issue I see is with speculation,” I offered. “Certain assumptions you may want to avoid. We should pick a few tough questions, but then maybe offer a statement regarding the lack of choices abused children may believe they have, rather than answering why Landyn never reported his police officer father.”

  “Rose is right. He may look worse in the eyes of the public if he didn’t do everything someone not in his situation thinks they would’ve done. Best to leave him looking like a hopeless victim and seeing him rise to greatness on the football field.”

  Rochelle’s look of skepticism didn’t surprise me. Even I was having a hard time swallowing Helena’s rationale; however, I was used to her cold approach to laying out alternatives.

  “I…I don’t know…”

  “Let’s have it be Landyn’s decision,” I suggested to Rochelle. “I’m sure he has an opinion on what he wants to say. After all, it was his childhood. His experience. He may want to say everything, or very little.”

  Rochelle nodded, her lips quirking to one side, a look of hesitant resignation. “Rose, I’m counting on you for this. This type of attention is not what we want t
hree days before kickoff.”

  “I know, but at least this time, it’s not Landyn’s fault.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Rochelle’s dark eyes hardened. “Make sure nothing else is.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ROSE

  I sat at the head of the table in the main conference room in my office, with Helena by my side. Today, I was commanding the room, and it honestly wasn’t all that intimidating.

  “Are you ready for this?” Helena asked softly.

  I looked from her to our legal counsel, Piper, on my other side. “Ready,” I said.

  “Good. Let’s get the bastard.” Helena flipped her heavy red hair back from her shoulders and sat up straighter. She looked as powerful as I felt. I stiffened my back.

  Carter Gallagher, and his wife Abigail walked into the room, followed by a young man I assumed was their attorney. I nodded to our security guy, who closed the door to give us privacy.

  Helena, Piper and I stood in unison.

  “Please have a seat,” I said.

  I watched the young lawyer amble forward. He didn’t introduce himself, but he did wipe near his eye underneath his glasses.

  Sweating. Good.

  A woman who looked more nine than six months pregnant, waddled over to a seat, and Carter gallantly pulled it out for her to sit. She blew out a breath and tucked strands of hair from her short, dark bob behind both ears.

  Her eyes were blue. Very striking, like Landyn’s.

  I swallowed the unease of knowing Carter fathered another child and turned my gaze to him. If Landyn inherited his eyes from his mother, then the rest of his good looks were definitely from his father. Carter was slightly shorter than his tall son, but he was possessed a broad chest that narrowed to a slimmer waist, and that square jaw line that, in my craziest imaginations, I wanted to stroke.

  When they settled at the opposite end, then we took our seats.

  “Mr. Gallagher, my name is Rose Mackleby. We’ve seen the news—”

  “Good, then you know my son has some explaining to do,” Carter said, cutting me off. “Now, I raised that kid to what he is today, and I expect…” Abigail put a hand on his arm and he cleared his throat, glancing at his lawyer.