When he looks up, his eyes are glassy. “Preston, I never—”
“I know that now.” I sit beside him against the wall. “He ensured my silence by giving me money.”
Asher tenses. “What?”
Shame snakes up my spine. “The fucked-up thing is…I was the one blackmailing him.”
He lifts a brow. “What do you mean?”
“We never spoke about that night, but I knew the deal. As long as I kept my mouth shut, I could get whatever I wanted out of him. Fortunately for him, my favorite habit required a steady flow of cash. Gambling numbed the pain…made me feel like I was in control.” A tightness fills my chest. “But everything changed when I found out I was going to be a father, because I wasn’t just responsible for myself anymore.”
I inhale a sharp breath. “I wanted to give Jameson a good life, but I didn’t want that monster anywhere near him, so I decided to cut all ties.” I cut my gaze to Asher who’s listening intently. “But not before I took back every ounce of control he stripped away from me that night.”
“How?”
“During the last conversation we had, I told him to give me all his money. If he didn’t…I’d tell the world exactly what he was. I gave him seven days to transfer it to my account…but then the bastard died and one-upped me by leaving all the money to you.”
“Jesus,” Asher mutters as he takes this in. “No wonder you were so pissed.”
He’s right. I was. But there’s more to it than that.
“Yeah. Not only did I not get the money, I also didn’t get to make good on my threat.” I grip the back of my neck. “I thought I’d at least get justice of some kind after people found out about him and Kyle…but that didn’t happen.”
Asher took that from me.
“Because I robbed you of that,” he whispers, pulling the thought right out of my head.
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.” He bangs his head against the wall. “I’m so fucking sorry, Preston.”
I know he is. “I should have told you…I just didn’t know how.”
Not until Kit came along and showed me it was okay to let someone in.
Sadness dwells in his eyes. “Can I ask when it happened?” His voice cracks with emotion. “You don’t have to tell me. I just want to know where the fuck I was. Why I wasn’t there to protect you like I should have.”
I told him he couldn’t protect me from what happened, but it’s clear he’s blaming himself.
My gut clenches hard. He’s already reacting like a knife has been plunged into his chest.
There’s no need for me to twist it by telling him the argument that led to our father doing what he did was because I was trying to protect him.
The guilt will gnaw his insides and he’ll never be the same.
There’s no reason both of us should perpetually suffer.
“It happened while you were at a sleepover,” I lie. “And that’s as much as I’m ever going to say about it, so don’t ask me again.”
He releases a shaky breath. “Okay.” His eyes swivel around the wreckage of his ruined office. “I’m gonna cut you a check right now for every fucking penny. Including what I’ve already spent.”
“I don’t want the money.”
Money won’t erase what happened. I know that now.
“You deserve it,” he argues. “It’s the least I can do.”
I don’t want him to do anything.
Well, except one thing.
“If you really want to do something for me…be my brother again.”
He rears back like I’ve insulted him. “I’ve never stopped being your brother. Hell, three weeks after you left, I hired a PI to track you down. He spent years looking for you, but always came up empty.”
A laugh flies out of me as I recall the conversation I had with the guy when he did in fact track me down in Vegas. “That’s because I convinced him that the longer he had to scour the earth looking for me, the more money he could get out of you.”
Asher’s mouth nearly hits the floor. “That son of a bitch. I paid him a fuckton. And that doesn’t even include all the airfare, food, or hotel rooms I funded. That fucker went everywhere on my dime. I even sent him to Australia for two weeks.”
“Australia?” I question. “Why the fuck would you send him there?”
He shrugs. “I once read an article that said the country was big on gambling. Figured you might be hiding out there screwing some hot Aussie.”
A snort leaves me. “Nah. I was living out of a cheap motel while working for the mob. And the only screwing I was doing were cougars with rich husbands so I could score a few bucks.”
“Jesus.” He expels a long sigh. “I wish you would have called.”
There were moments when I almost did. “I made sure to watch every game of yours.”
This surprises him. “Yeah?”
I can recite the scores and his stats by heart. “Never missed one.” I smirk. “I even bet against you during the playoffs.”
He laughs. “Asshole.” His expression evens out. “Does this mean I have my little brother back for good?”
“Yeah.” I cringe when I look at his bloody knuckles. “You better get that checked out.”
Because if he ruined that hand, his career is over.
“I still have a little time before the season starts.” Examining his hand, he wiggles his fingers. “Hurts but doesn’t feel broken. Ice should take care of it.”
Ice won’t do shit if he damaged it. “Get your ass to a doctor. Today.”
I start to stand, but he grabs my arm, halting me. “I know this is probably the least of your worries, but Breslin and Landon are gonna ask what’s going on. I won’t tell them; you have my word. But can you tell me what I can say?”
I’m about to tell him it doesn’t matter, as long as my secret doesn’t leave his lips, but given I had him lie to them for me before, I kind of owe him one.
Plus, I don’t think Breslin or Landon would use this information against me.
“You can tell them.” I narrow my eyes. “Just make sure they never talk to me about it…or look at me with pity. Otherwise, I’ll lose my shit.”
The last thing I want is to be treated like some kind of victim. Fuck that.
“Got it—”
The sound of his phone ringing cuts him off and we both look around the rubble for it. I find it near his desk and hand it to him.
He puts it on speakerphone. “What, Joe? I told you I’d call you back, remember?”
“I know, but this is about the sneaker sponsorship,” a male voice on the other line says. “I talked to Sports Zone and they agreed to pay you two point five million, instead of one. I’m sending the new contract over now.”
I’m about to leave and give him some privacy, but then Asher barks, “Two point five? Come on. Rivera got three million and he’s only an offensive lineman.”
Ouch. Given Asher’s not just an NFL quarterback, but the quarterback of a team that made it to the playoffs last season, he should be getting top dollar for sponsorships.