Chapter 11
Decker
A tinkling of laughter carries in from the deck, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I turn my head slightly, seeking, listening, an addict fiending for another hit of her happiness.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to be responsible for that laughter.
Hell, I’d settle for just being in the vicinity of her brightness right now.
To be granted the pleasure of her company, the gift of her proximity.
Anything but here. Anything but this.
It takes all the energy I’ve got to maintain my composure.
With a deep breath in, I tilt my neck to one side, then the other, relishing the way it cracks and the hit of relief that comes with it.
Misty hums beside me, regarding me with a coquettish smile. When she brushes her fingertips over my forearm in a not-so-subtle move to reach for the water pitcher, I flinch and yank my arm away.
She pours herself a glass, then suspends the crystal pitcher in the air in offering.
Shaking my head, I dismiss her.
“We’re almost done,” she whispers in what she thinks is a reassuring, placating tone.
We better be almost fucking done. We’ve been at this for nearly two hours.
My muscles are bunched and tense from sitting for so long.
After a full day of class and practice, followed by two content shoots, my presence was required at what was titled Strategy Meeting on the calendar invite.
Though it’s nothing more than a ruse created by my dad and his lawyers so they can remind me who’s boss.
And remind me, they have.
At my father’s behest, we’re reviewing the language of the SportsZone deal. Line by line. In his words, it’s important that we analyze the fine print so that I “fully understand the significance of this opportunity.”
The only saving grace is that in the two hours since this farce began, no one has brought up the incident on Sunday morning.
Maybe the SportsZone photogs aren’t talking.
Or maybe my father has chosen not to rehash the events that led to Josephine being manhandled in a way that forced Nicky to come to her defense and K to then take the fall for it all.
Makes sense: why bring it up and risk angering me when they can hold me hostage and encourage specific behaviors through manipulation?
None of the information we’ve gone over is new. No, this meeting has been nothing but an excruciating exercise in revealing the full extent of the invasion of privacy that’s about to occur in the name of marketing and promotion.
The SportsZone deal is all-consuming. They have unprecedented access to me, to the guys, to the house, to our lives.
Unprecedented.
And yet here we fucking are—establishing precedence.
“The right of first refusal clause outlined in 17.8.2 renews with each reprint,” one of my dad’s lawyers explains from the screen at the front of the room.
That’s how I’ve started to think of them.
Dad’s lawyers.
Not mine. Not ours.
His.
For the last few years, I’ve been resting on my laurels when I should have been taking a vested interest in the business dealings related to my career.
The goal has always been to hustle my ass off to secure NIL deals and to take the guys along with me for the ride. I’ve spent the last three and a half years actively pursuing every moneymaking opportunity available to me.
It has never been about money. Between my dad’s legacy, my own deals, and my mom’s estate, which I’m the sole beneficiary of, I’m set for life. I could walk away from football tomorrow and not have a single financial need if I made smart investments and lived conservatively.
But things are different for my boys.
Any time I could work Kendrick into a deal, I did.
When a local opportunity that wasn’t too physically demanding of Nicky arose, I insisted he be included, too.
I welcomed the deals. Sought them out, even.
Nicky won’t go pro. After this season, he’s done. The toll is too high, his pain too great. He’ll always be taken care of because he’s family, but I wanted to ensure he has cash available while he figures out what comes after football.
K will go pro. We were supposed to enter the draft together.
That may change after the incident with the photographer.
He’s always kept his image squeaky clean, but aggravated assault will be a big blight on his reputation.
Lots of athletes who find themselves facing similar charges still get picked up by professional teams, but then some don’t. Only time will tell.
Regardless, he does a ton for his sisters, going so far as to pay their private school tuition. His father is well-known and highly admired in our community, but he’s not making bank as the sheriff of Lake Chapel. Kendrick contributes more financially to his family than he lets on.
I yawn to force my jaw to relax.
I need to get up and move. Stretch. Take a hot shower.
Check on the guys.
Check on my girl.
“It’s getting late,” I interject when there’s a lull in the conversation.
“Ah, that it is,” my dad replies from his box on the screen, as if he wasn’t fully aware of how long this session has been drawn out. “We’ve only got one more item on the agenda, so let’s move on to that.”
“Decker,” one of the lawyers begins—I don’t know his name, and I don’t care to learn it. “It was brought to our attention that one resident in your home does not have a nondisclosure on file.”
Crickets.
Silence.
Dazed, numb even, I’m lost in the ether of panic and protectiveness, paralyzed by fear, too scared to say the wrong thing or reveal too much.
The only sound is my own blood whooshing in my ears.
And then that tinkling of laughter again.
God fucking dammit.
This was a trap. A fucking setup.
This meeting.
My entire life.
“Son, you know the rules. I don’t have an issue with your friends taking advantage of my goodwill and the accommodations I provide—”
My head snaps over to meet his eyes on the screen at those words. Goodwill. Accommodations. That was a veiled threat if I’ve ever heard one.
“But your roommates have signed NDAs, and they haven’t caused problems during their time at the house.”
“Josephine is not a roommate. She’s my guest.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
Beside me, Misty scoffs.
Reining in my fury, I rise out of my chair. I give her my back, then cross my arms over my chest.
“It doesn’t matter what she is to me. I trust her. That’s enough.”
A low chuckle echoes through the speakers.
My dad is sitting back in his chair, looking relaxed, bored even, wearing an amused smirk.
I grit my teeth and fist my hands at my sides, wishing he were here in person so I could punch his fucking face. This was a setup. And based on his cool, calm, collected demeanor, there’s no way I’m getting out of this until he gets exactly what he wants.
“Trust is a fickle beast, though, isn’t it? It can be given freely, or it can be hard-fought and earned. But at the end of the day, it’s an illusion. A false sense of security. Blinders preventing us from seeing what’s happening right in front of us.”
He sits up straighter then, jerking his chin.
“Misty? You have the standard agreement on hand?”
“Right here!” Her response is far too chipper as she produces the requested documents.
“Is it safe to assume your guest is there now, Decker?”
I grip the edge of the dining room table to keep myself from throwing my fist into it.
“Get her in here,” my dad demands. “Martin is a notary, and Misty can sign by proxy on my behalf.”
Shit. Not only did I walk into a setup, but I’m already caught in the snare.
Fighting is futile. Arguing will likely reveal too much about the nature of our relationship and make matters worse.
I’m trapped. Fucked. My options are to do what he says or to chew my own leg off trying to fight this.
I slide my phone out of my back pocket and pull up the text thread between the two of us.
Decker: Siren. Can you please come to the dining room ASAP?
Quickly, I pound out a second text, offering up details so she can prepare herself for what she’s about to walk into.
Decker: I’m on a call with my dad and his lawyers. Misty’s here, too. They’re insisting you sign an NDA. I had no idea they were going to force the issue. I’m sorry.
Josephine: It’s okay. Give me one second.
I close my eyes and focus on breathing. I’m unworthy of her compassion. It’s not okay. None of this is. And nothing will be until she’s safe.
They’re not forcing the issue to protect me.
No, they want power over her and over us, and this is the simplest way to get it.
Yet the alternative—forcing her to leave, keeping our distance when we’ve seen firsthand how her association with us makes her a target—isn’t an option either. Not one we’ll survive, at least.
Heart lodged in my throat, I shoot off another text to remind her of our earlier discussion.
Decker: Bring one of the guys with you. I don’t want you walking into this room alone or giving away anything we don’t want them to know.
I can’t protect her from everything. But I can play my part. I can ensure that one of my boys stands by her side through this whole ordeal, since my hands are tied.
Josephine: And what, exactly, do you not want them to know, Cap?
This girl.
She’s flirting while knowingly being lured into a room of vipers. What I wouldn’t give to tell her the truth:
That I’m in love with you.
That you matter more to me than anything in this world.
That I would give this all up if it meant I got to keep you forever.
Decker: Just do as I say, Josephine.
“She’s on her way,” I announce. I slip my phone back into my pocket but remain standing.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I wait. I wait, and I steel my spine. I lock it in and put on my mask, knowing damn well that even the smallest blip of emotion could be used against me.
Misty keeps making little noises from her seat like she’s hoping to garner my attention. I refuse to turn and acknowledge her. She’s been colluding with my dad for years, but it’s never felt so personal or vindictive.