His eyes widened ridiculously as he realized he had nowhere to go.
“Whoa, Brody.” Darius stuck an arm between me and Chase, pushed against my torso. “You know that’s not a smart move, my man.”
With a growl, I punched the drywall next to Chase. Letting go of his shirt, I whipped the door open. The glass rattled when I slammed it behind me.
I hit the locker room and started stripping clothes off. Ten minutes later I was pushing my wrist wraps into my gym bag as my hair dried. As soon as I got out of the locker room, I tried to call Lily.
It went to voicemail.
Knowing what I sounded like at the moment, I figured a text would be better than a voice message.
Brody: Call me as soon as you can.
After a stop at the truck to stuff my playbook in my bag, I texted again.
Brody: Lily, I need to talk to you. I’m about to go into a meeting with Dick.
No response.
I tried to call one last time before I went into the building that housed Dick’s office. I had a glimmer of hope that this meeting wasn’t what I thought it was. When the call rolled over to voicemail, I did my best not to scare her for no reason. “Give me a call as soon as you can, darlin’. I need to hear your voice.”
With that, I pulled open the door and took the elevator up to Dick’s office. His assistant was waiting for me. “Mr. Shaw, you can go right in.”
I pushed through the doors. Sitting in a leather executive chair so big I was sure he was compensating for something, Dick turned from his bank of windows. “Brody.”
“J.R. How is everything in the land of Ewing Oil today?”
“Funny.” He didn’t smile.
I didn’t give a shit. “Thanks, I thought so.” The last thing I ever wanted was to give Dick the satisfaction that he’d gotten to me, so I tacked on a smile for good measure.
“Mr. Shaw. I’m aware you’re sleeping with my stepdaughter.”
Sonofabitch. “Oh? Not that I wouldn’t like to sleep with your stepdaughter, or just about anybody for that matter, but what makes you think that?”
He had zero proof.
“I have proof.”
Fuck me running.
Dick slid a folder across his desk at me. “I’m particularly fond of the one with half her ass hanging out.”
I flipped open the file and my brows creased. It was full of photos of Lily and me.
Locked in a kiss next to her garage.
Her on the running board of my truck when I told her I loved her.
Wrapped in my arms against the railing on my balcony the morning after I’d told her about Andra.
Nearly the exact same pose the night before, when she’d gotten out of bed in my T-shirt and I’d found her on the balcony.
In her backyard after her house was broken into.
I ground on my molars, sat the folder down.
“Not funny now, is it, Shaw? Those will be released tomorrow to several media outlets, both local and national. Shortly thereafter, we’ll be releasing the news of your trade. You’re going to Miami, son. Not all that bad, considering. It’s a good deal. They pay out the remainder of your contract. I get a tailback, and first and second round draft picks next year.”
There was a faint buzzing in my ears from the rage building inside me. “Why not bench me? Why all the shoulder bullshit?”
He leaned forward. “Truthfully, we didn’t think you’d make it back from the dislocation at all. We needed Bishop to take the reps if he was going to start this season. But, not only did you recover, you did it in half the time. That meant paying out your contract in full, even if you rode the bench. We needed to slow you down, Mr. Shaw. When Dr. Chase told your trainer to keep you limited, you didn’t listen.”
“My contract isn’t fully guaranteed. You thought you’d be able to put me on IR this year and cut my pay in half. Me coming back fucked that up.”
He steepled his fingers. “Exactly. And Chase says you’re as dumb as you look. Fortunately for us, the last year you’ve had a run of bad luck. That got me thinking about your trade clause, Mr. Shaw. You were two strikes in. Arranging a trade would be even more lucrative for the organization than having your contract reduced. The accident at camp was purely a stroke of luck, but it was the opening I needed to both send you home so I could get these for your third strike—” he tapped the folder with the pictures “—and set you up to go on the injured reserve list, if I couldn’t get the photos. We knew the civil suit wouldn’t stick before you even knew there was a lawsuit.” He leaned forward like he was imparting a secret. “In fact, the criminal case won’t either. The girl has character issues.”
Jesus. The way this man’s mind worked. If he weren’t so fucking evil, it might be admirable. Might. “Mmhmm, and you didn’t have anything to do with that either, right? For all you know that woman could have been forced into sex at that party, and you’d find a way to make that go away, too, wouldn’t you?”
He spread his hands wide. “It’s a football town, son.”
It was taking everything I had not to jump across the desk and punch in his eye teeth. “I’m not your son. I want my release. Free and clear. The Bulldogs don’t have to pay out the last two years on my contract and I’ll announce my retirement early. I’ll even say it’s medical if you want.”
“Now, why would I do that? I need you healthy now, Mr. Shaw. This deal with Miami hinges on it. As much as I’d like to be free and clear of your contract, you’re worth a lot in this league. First and second round draft picks and a tailback. Three players for the price of one when Bishop can do your job just as well as you can. Miami is desperate for you. I’d much rather have talent I’m going to use than let you go free and clear. Now, if you’d have asked me before the trade was possible, this conversation might have gone differently.”
Dick rocked back, rested an ankle over his knee as he sipped brown liquid from a crystal tumbler. “Don’t take it personal, son. This is a business. Bishop is younger, faster, and he took a smaller contract just to come here and learn with you. I’m in high cotton.”
The sonofabitch threw his head back and laughed. “Of course, I also have it on good authority that, should you stay healthy for the duration of the two years, Miami is prepared to offer you an extension to keep you from retiring.”
Miami was desperate after their starter retired without much warning, and their backup had more brains than ability. With them tossing two picks at Dallas, they’d be praying they could convince me to stay a couple more years.
Not that I gave a shit.