Chapter 14 #2
"Okay," Lola nodded. "Good. You seem... tolerable.
For a jock. But listen to me. If that SUV is her dad, she's in trouble.
Richard Sterling doesn't do 'subtle surveillance.
' He does 'shock and awe.' If he finds out she's with you...
he'll hurt her. He'll cut off her tuition.
He'll blacklist her from galleries. He'll destroy her. "
"I won't let him," I said.
"You might not have a choice," Lola said grimly. "Just... watch your back. And watch hers. Because someone is hunting you."
She stomped out her cigarette and walked away.
I stood there in the snow.
New York plates.
It wasn't her dad.
It was mine.
My father wasn't trusting Marcus's report. He had sent a private investigator. He was building a case. He was looking for the smoking gun that would allow him to cut the trust fund without legal blowback.
And if he found Georgia... if he got photos of us inside the apartment...
I had to tell her. I had to warn her.
But if I told her it was my father hunting us, she would leave. She would leave to save my money. She would sacrifice herself. I knew her. She was a martyr in designer clothing.
I couldn't tell her.
I had to handle it. I had to lose the tail. I had to make sure we were invisible.
I took a deep breath.
Hubris.
I thought I could control the variables. But the variables were controlling me.
That night, the trap sprung.
I came home late. I had driven in circles for an hour to make sure I wasn't followed. I parked three blocks away and walked in through the service entrance.
I got up to the penthouse.
Georgia was in the living room. She was pacing.
She was wearing the red dress from the Gala.
My heart stopped.
"Georgia?"
She turned. Her face was pale. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
"You're late," she whispered.
"I... I had to be careful. Lola told me about the SUV."
"It wasn't an SUV," she said, her voice trembling. "It was a courier."
She pointed to the coffee table.
There was a large, flat envelope sitting there. It was cream-colored, heavy stock. The return address was Sterling & Thorne, Attorneys at Law.
"It came an hour ago," she said. "Hand-delivered to the concierge. Henri brought it up."
"Did you open it?"
"No. It's addressed to you."
I walked over to the table. I picked up the envelope. It felt heavy.
I ripped it open.
Inside was a single sheet of paper. And a check.
The check was for one hundred thousand dollars. Payable to Georgia Sterling.
The letter was short.
Mr. Kincaid,
We understand you have a... situation. Miss Sterling has a brother in financial distress. We are willing to resolve this debt. Enclosed is the payment.
Consider this a severance package. For her services.
If this check is cashed, we expect Miss Sterling to vacate the premises and cease all contact with you immediately.
If she does not, we will assume you are complicit in her financial instability, and we will be forced to alert the NCAA to potential 'improper benefits' provided to a student-athlete's partner.
Choose wisely.
- W. Kincaid
I stared at the letter.
My father knew about Leo. He knew about the debt. He had dug into her life, found her deepest shame, and was using it as a weapon.
And he was framing it as a bribe.
If she took the money, she saved her brother. But she had to leave me.
If she stayed, he would report me to the NCAA for "improper benefits"—giving her money, housing, support. I would lose my eligibility. I would lose the draft.
It was checkmate.
"What is it?" Georgia asked, stepping closer. "Toby, you're scaring me."
I looked at her. She was beautiful. She was terrified. She was everything.
And I was holding the knife that was going to cut us apart.
"It's from my father," I said, my voice dead.
I handed her the letter.
She read it. Her hands shook. She saw the check.
"Leo," she whispered. "He knows about Leo."
"He knows everything."
"One hundred thousand dollars," she breathed. "It... it pays the debt. It saves him."
"And it buys you off," I said harshly. "Like a whore."
She flinched. "Don't say that."
"That's what he thinks you are, Georgia! A problem to be bought. A service to be terminated."
I paced the room, running my hands through my hair.
"He's backed us into a corner. If you take the money, you leave. If you stay... he nukes my career."
"The NCAA," she said, reading the letter again. "Improper benefits. Because I live here rent-free? Because you bought me dinner?"
"Yes. It's a violation. If they investigate, I'm suspended. Draft stock plummets. I lose the bonus. I lose everything."
Silence fell over the room.
We stood on opposite sides of the coffee table. The check lay between us like a grenade.
"You have to let me go," she whispered.
"No."
"Toby, look at the math! If I stay, you lose your career. If I go... you win. I win. Leo is safe."
"We lose us!" I roared. "Doesn't that matter?"
"Of course it matters!" she yelled back, tears streaming down her face. "But love doesn't pay loan sharks! Love doesn't stop the NCAA! We were arrogant, Toby. We thought we could hide. We can't."
She reached for the check.
I grabbed her wrist.
"Don't touch it."
"I have to! My brother—"
"I will pay the debt," I said. "I have savings. I can liquidate my portfolio."
"Your father controls your portfolio! You told me! You can't touch it without his signature!"
She was right. I was trapped.
She pulled her wrist free. She picked up the check.
She looked at it. Then she looked at me.
"I love you," she said, her voice breaking. "I love you so much it hurts. But I can't be the reason you lose your dream. And I can't let my brother die."
"Georgia, please."
"I have to go," she said.
She turned and walked toward the bedroom.
"Where are you going?"
"To pack."
"No!"
I ran after her. I caught her in the hallway. I pinned her against the wall.
I kissed her.
It was desperate. It was angry. It was a plea.
"Don't go," I begged against her lips. "We'll find another way. We'll fight him."
"We can't fight him," she sobbed. "He's too big. He's too strong."
She pushed me away.
"Let me go, Toby. Please. Before I change my mind."
She went into the bedroom and slammed the door.
I heard the lock click.
I stood in the hallway. Alone.
The hubris was gone. The arrogance was gone.
There was only the silence.
And the sound of my heart breaking in real-time.