CHAPTER 6 Ford Bradley
Gather the Funds
I’m on my way to practice when I see Liam calling. “Hello?” I answer.
I probably should pull over based on the words that come out of his mouth.
“Dad was indicted.”
We knew it was coming, but it still makes my heart drop into my stomach. “So what happens next?” I ask.
“He was already arrested, and the arraignment is set for first thing Monday. They searched the house, too.”
“Shit,” I mutter. “So they’re holding him through the weekend. What about Archer?”
“They left him alone—for now. They could still be working on things behind closed doors but wanted to cut off the head of the snake first, so to speak.”
I let out a grunt. “Keep me posted. Sorry you’re dealing with this on your own.”
“Me too. It fucking sucks. I’ll let you know what they set bail at when I hear.”
“Thanks. How’s Mom?” I ask.
“Not well. You should probably call her. I haven’t told her Dad was arrested yet.”
“I won’t be the one to take that away from you,” I say. “I’m just pulling into practice.”
“Oh, I forgot you’re an hour later than me. I’ll let the others know.”
“Thanks.” I cut the call and head into practice as I think about my siblings.
I’m in the latest time zone in the family.
Moving west, there’s Liam and Ivy in Chicago; Dex, Everleigh, and Archer in Vegas; and Madden in San Diego.
Based on that, I’m wondering if Vegas should be our family’s new home base instead of Chicago.
Not because it’ll put me closer to Tatum once she goes back home. Just because it makes sense for the family since more of us live there than anywhere else.
Before I even get out on the field, my head coach, Jonathan Wilder, calls me into his office. He nods to the chair across from him when I knock on his doorframe, and I take a seat.
“You need to talk about it?” he asks.
He’s a good coach—no, a great coach—and he can sense when his players are going through something. Well, that paired with the fact that since I come from a celebrity family, my father’s arrest is already likely all over the news.
“I just found out on my way here,” I admit. “I haven’t processed it yet.”
“Let me know what I can do. If you need a minute today, you say the word.”
I nod. “Thanks. I won’t need a minute.” I can separate emotion from this.
Maybe.
“Are you escaping this unscathed?”
“I wasn’t involved in it. My name isn’t on any of the documents. I’m not worried.”
He nods once, a bit of pride in his eyes that he chose one of the Bradley siblings who’s on the right side of this as a player on his team.
I wish we all were on the right side of it.
I have no idea what’s going to happen with Archer.
I still have no idea how his name ended up on some of the incriminating documents, but the grand jury must have found enough evidence against my father to push out those charges first.
The head of the snake, as Liam called it.
I work my hardest at practice, my mind not in it as it settles on my father, just as predicted by Coach. Before I head out for the day, he pulls me aside.
“I need you in it on Sunday, Bradley,” he says, his voice gentle despite the tough words.
“I will be.”
He studies me for a beat, and then he nods, seemingly satisfied.
I think about heading to Chicago to see my father behind bars, to talk to him and get a sense of how bad this might get.
But I told Coach I’d be in it on Sunday, so I need to stay here.
I need to be ready to go at practice tomorrow and Saturday.
Ready to play on Sunday. And then my father will be arraigned, and we’ll know what we’re dealing with when it comes to bailing him out.
As it turns out, he knows my schedule well enough to know when I’m free to answer his call. I’m on my way home from practice when I receive an incoming call from a number I don’t recognize.
“Hello?” I answer over the car’s Bluetooth system.
“Collect Call from Thomas Bradley, inmate at Chicago’s Metropolitan Correctional Center. Press one to accept the call.”
I sigh as I click the button.
“This call will be monitored and recorded.”
“Hello?” I say into the line.
“Ford,” my father says, and it feels…weird. We rarely talk on the phone. We rarely talk at all. “My lawyer’s educated guess is that bail will be set between two and three million. I need you to gather the funds.”
“From where?” I ask, as if he’s going to give up all his hidden accounts over the phone.
“You’ll figure it out.” He ends the call.
I slam a hand on my steering wheel.
I immediately dial Madden.
“I assume you heard the news,” he answers.
I sigh. “He just called me and told me to gather the funds for his bail.”
“How much?”
“He said his lawyers are guessing two to three million.”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “What are you going to do?”
“Why do you think I called you?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Don’t look at me.”
“You’re the CEO of a multi-million-dollar company,” I argue.
“Co-CEO,” he reminds me. “He put me through hell, and it almost cost me Kennedy. I wouldn’t say I’m eager to jump into helping him, and just because he hasn’t done that to you yet, don’t think he won’t. Don’t give him your money, Ford.”
“What am I supposed to do then?”
“Let him rot. He’s not innocent.”
“That’s it?” I ask.
“That’s it from me. I would venture to guess that Dex, Everleigh, and Archer would agree with me. You may have better luck with Liam and Ivy,” he says.
“Ivy can’t access her trust fund until she’s twenty-five,” I point out. “Have you talked to Arch?”
“No.”
“Did you know he and Tatum broke up and she’s staying with me right now?”
“I hadn’t heard that,” he says. “Did you get anything out of her?”
“Not really. I still don’t know how Archer got tangled up in Dad’s bullshit.”
“It’s what our father does,” he says. “He manipulates and twists and gets what he wants every goddamn time. And that’s why he doesn’t deserve your money.”
He’s right. I know he is.
But he’s also our father, and family loyalty means something to me.
It means a lot to me.
I try Dex and Everleigh next, and both tell me not to fund Dad’s bail.
I call Archer. He doesn’t answer. I don’t bother leaving a voicemail. He won’t call back, and he won’t pitch in.
I call Liam next.
“I talked to Dad,” I say.
“And?”
I decide to try a different tack with this one. “He told me to gather funds for his bail. If you and I chip in from our trust funds, I can pay us back when we sell the mansion.”
“Just us?” he asks.
“Madden, Dex, and Everleigh were in agreement that he should sit in prison and pay for his crimes.”
“I figured. But they’re not here. They wrote him off because of the things he’s done, but I can’t let him sit in prison when he could be with Mom in her last days. You know?”
“I know,” I say. “It’s complicated.”
“I’m having dinner with Ivy tonight. I’ll check with her.”
“She can’t access her funds yet,” I remind him.
“Oh. Right. Well, just us then.”
“Yeah, bro,” I say quietly.
“You’re really selling the house?” he asks.
“What choice do I have? We’ll be out a million bucks each if not more until the end of his trial, which could take years. Are you okay with that?”
“No,” he grunts. “But I’m also not okay with you selling the mansion.”
“I’m sorry. I promise you, Liam, we’re in this together.”
“Yeah.”
We end the call, and I stare at my phone for a minute as I think things through. Maybe Liam’s right in that I’m too practical when it comes to these things, but I’m protecting our finances over this goddamn legacy my father is so adamant about.
And because of that, I’ll need to get to Chicago to assess what sort of shape the mansion is in so I can get a crew in to clean it up and get the place listed.
I stick that in the need to do later column and head inside to finally get a little reprieve from this God-awful day by seeing Tatum.