CHAPTER 48 Dex Bradley
Can I Stay at Your Place
I manage to feed and bathe my son thanks to the note with the schedule on it that Ainsley wrote for me months ago, and he’s currently playing on the floor as I contemplate what to do next.
And as I wander over to my thinking windows, the place I’ve stood so many times contemplating all sorts of problems and complexities as I looked out over Las Vegas Boulevard, her words seem to come back to me.
Unless you give up the lounge, which I know you can’t…well, then it’s over.
Give up the lounge.
The words echo in my mind.
Give up the lounge.
It’s not something I ever truly considered before. I think it never occurred to me because it was always assumed I’d just do whatever my father asked. That’s how he raised us.
But if the choice comes down to my father or Ainsley, it’s not my father who will come out the winner.
Give up the lounge.
It’s walking away from the legacy. My father might disown me, but I’ll still have my siblings.
For just a moment, I wonder if Archer has known about this underground shit the whole time.
Is that why he was shunned from the family?
Is that why he ran to Vegas and never looked back?
Because, man, I tried that. I tried to leave and never look back, but our father somehow has this hold on me that keeps pulling me back in.
But now that I’m a father, maybe things can be different for me. Maybe I can stand up to the people wielding power over me and prove that I’m stronger.
If I want that little slice of the picture-perfect family we were for a snapshot in time, then it’s what I have to do.
Almost getting into that lime green Lambo, plowing down Jennings…neither gave me even a tiny glimpse of the sort of thrill I got when I walked into Asher’s place yesterday and saw Ainsley sitting on the floor playing with Jack.
Those are the thrills I want now. Not the fast life. Not the risks or the danger.
But love. A deep, emotional kind of love that I never knew existed.
The love I share with Ainsley. The love I have for Jack.
Two different types of love that have developed over the last few months into something far stronger than anything I’ve ever known.
I know what I have to do.
It’s not going to be easy, but I don’t have any other choice.
I look at the schedule she drew up for Jack, and I take a photo of it. I pack first for myself and then for Jack, bringing along everything I could possibly need when I realize that if there’s anything I forgot, I can just buy it when I get to my destination.
I book the next flight. I may not be going to New York, but I’m sure as fuck not going to sit around at home with my dick in my hand.
I’m going to fucking fight with all my might to get back the life that was just within my reach before I lost it.
I carefully buckle Jack into his carrier, and I text Milton and ask him if he can get me a car to the airport.
He’s at the reception desk when I walk down with Jack in his carrier in one arm. I’m dragging my suitcase with the other, and I have a duffel slung around my shoulder, too.
I set the carrier carefully on the floor and walk over to Milton. “I never properly thanked you for getting in touch with my coach on Wednesday.”
“You should thank your wife. She’s the one who texted me asking if I knew where you were.”
My brows pinch together. “She did? I thought the driver texted you.”
He presses his lips together. “She was worried about you, Dex.”
“I’ve thought this many times over the years, but I’ve never said it to you. You’re like a father to me, and I appreciate all you do to look out for me.”
He nods once, clearly not sure what to say to that, but he doesn’t have to say anything. He clears his throat, and then he nods to Jack and my suitcase. “Are you bringing Jack with you to New York?”
I bite my lip before I answer. “Coach isn’t having me travel with the team. I went a little too hard in practice when it was supposed to be light and might’ve cracked Maverick Jennings’s ribs.”
“Oh, Dex,” he says quietly. “So where are you off to?”
“Chicago.” I flash him a smile. “Bet you can guess why.”
He nods again. “If I may say so, I hope you get her back, sir. It’s nice having her around.”
I glance at Jack, and then I look back at him. “I agree. I’m going to go put up the biggest fight of my life, so wish me luck.”
“Best of luck to you.”
I plow into him for a quick hug, and he laughs as he awkwardly pats me on the back.
And then I head to the airport to catch a flight to win my girl back…with a few obstacles in the way first, of course. It wouldn’t be my life if it were quite that simple.
Jack sleeps through the entire flight, thank God, and I text Madden when I land.
Me: Can I stay at your place this weekend?
Madden: What the fuck?
His response is warranted since I’m supposed to be playing in New York this weekend, not chilling in Chicago.
Me: Long story, but I’m suspended for a game and headed to Chicago right now to try to fix the things I fucked up.
Instead of answering with a text, he calls me.
“Hey,” I answer.
“I’m in San Diego, and my place in Chicago is vacant. Everleigh has a spare key if you need it.”
“Are you kidding?” I ask. “I had a copy made when I stayed there last time. I think everyone with the last name Bradley has a key to your place. You should probably change your locks.”
“Duly noted. Thanks for the free advice.”
I laugh. For the first time in days, I actually laugh. And it feels good. Like maybe there’s some light at the end of this darkness. I hope so, anyway. I’m sure as hell going to try.
“So what happened?” he asks. “Why are you suspended?”
The aircraft doors open, and I grab the duffel filled with Jack’s supplies plus my own suitcase from the overhead and pick up Jack’s carrier while balancing my phone. It’s a lot for one guy to handle. “Hang on.”
Once I’m off the jetway, I glance around. The airport is crowded, and I’m glad I carried on. I call up a rideshare and head right for the pickup area. My car will be here in seven to ten minutes.
“I, uh…made some questionable decisions. Lincoln Nash showed up to divert me from doing something really stupid, so he was already mad at me. Then I went hard at a Friday practice, and the QB might’ve ended up with some broken ribs because of me.”
“Dude! How stupid are you?”
“I hope that’s rhetorical,” I mutter.
“Why are you acting like this? I thought you were finally pulling your shit together,” he says.
“I was. And then—” I glance around to make sure nobody’s listening since someone like me can never be too careful, and I lower my voice. “My wife ended it. Took off her ring. Told me she couldn’t be with me.”
“Why?”
“Because of Dad’s fucking VIP lounge.” It’s not quite that simple, but that’s what it breaks down to.
“How?”
I figured he’d ask that, so I give him the truth.
If there’s anyone in the world who could understand the position I’m in, it’s my big brother.
“It’s complicated. I lied about the underground stuff to protect her, and she got mad when I told her the truth.
Said I was putting her in danger, and the only way she could be with me is if I cut ties with the lounge. ”
“Yeah. Dad’s putting us all in danger with this bullshit,” he mutters.
“Even you?” I ask. I keep walking toward the rideshare area, and I’ve navigated this airport enough times that it’s second nature to know where to go.
“We never talked about how I found out,” he says.
“And?”
“He was using Bradley Group to hide a lot of his illegal companies. I found some shell companies on the books that he was feeding large sums of cash to, and I did some digging and ultimately stumbled on the underground casino. I couldn’t get in and didn’t know what it was, but it was actually you who helped me get in. ”
“Me?” I ask. “How?”
“Your deepfake. I used it for the facial recognition software.”
“Shit. I taught you well.” I wondered what the deepfake was for when he asked for it, but I also know better than to sniff around and learn things I don’t need to know.
He laughs. “Something like that. He knew within ten seconds of me entering that I found it, and eventually I made him extract anything illegal from Bradley and sign it over to me just before I left for training camp.”
I whistle in appreciation for what he did. “Damn, bro. I had no idea you signed the papers.”
“It’s still pretty recent, and he’s wrapping up his own loose ends.”
“So are you retiring at the end of this season to run Bradley?” I ask. It’s the question everyone is wondering the answer to.
“To be determined.”
“Well, good luck this season,” I say.
“Hey, you too. And good luck with what you’re there to do. We have to stop letting Dad fuck up our relationships.”
“Hopefully either way, we’ll end up the winners in the end.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. I hear Kennedy call his name. “I better go. Clean up after yourself, okay?”
I laugh at my brother’s compulsive ability to be a neat freak even from hundreds of miles away. “You got it, bro.”
I hang up just as my ride pulls up to the curb. I strap Jack, who’s still sleeping peacefully, into the car, and then the driver takes off for the destination I gave him.
I realize Ainsley and I have other problems, and I used the plane ride to think those things through.
I reviewed the contract we signed. I came up with some revisions.
I emailed my lawyer. And then I closed my eyes and visualized how my next conversation is going to go. I rehearsed my lines over and over.
And instead of going to Madden’s place in this Lyft, the driver navigates toward my parents’ mansion.