Chapter 40
MADDOX
The arena is freezing when we enter, heading straight for Alexander’s office. Braxton’s fingers are squeezing mine tight, and I hate how terrified she looks right now. Seeing her so afraid only pisses me off more, and that’s not a great way to start a conversation with my boss.
Although, at this point, I’m not sure he even counts as my boss anymore. Not after we’re finished with this conversation, at least.
The realization is daunting. It’s one that’s been bouncing around in my skull since we left the penthouse, and still, I can’t get a good grasp of it. Of what it means or what will come next for me in this league.
We turn the corner, and the closed office door comes into view. Braxton sucks in a tight breath, and I squeeze her hand, stroking the back of it with my thumb when we come to a stop. A rock lodges in my throat when she pushes her shoulders back and looks up at me with a completely fake smile.
“Not for me, sweetheart. You don’t need to wear a mask for me,” I tell her softly.
She blinks, and her lips roll. “I know. This is for me. I can’t walk in there looking like a wounded deer, or I’m going to get eaten alive.”
“I’m proud of you.”
The hint of a real smile. “Good.”
“We’re walking out of here together, better than we were when we walked in,” I remind her.
“Okay,” she breathes.
I tap a finger beneath her chin and then lift it, bending to kiss her softly. She pushes up on her tiptoes and returns the gesture, lips parting with mine, our breath curling together.
“Okay, let’s get this over with,” she whispers.
Drifting my thumb across her bottom lip, I nod and take a step back.
As we cover the last of the distance between us and the office door, I clear my throat. “Nobody is going to let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” she says, confident.
After taking another look at her, I rap my knuckles against the door and slip on my own mask just as it’s pulled open. The scowl on the face of the man who opened it makes me step inside first, shifting Braxton behind me slightly as we enter.
“Maddox,” Alex says, voice gritty. “Braxton.”
“Alexander.”
“Hi,” Braxton whispers.
He shuts the door, and I lead Braxton toward where my dad and Dougie are sitting on the long leather couch.
Dad gives her a brief smile as she sits beside him, leaving enough room at the end of the couch for me to sandwich her in.
Dougie’s stare grips mine when I glance in his direction, and the barely restrained rage in them is enough to give away just how terrible their conversation prior to our arrival has gone.
I sit beside Braxton and drop my hand to her thigh in both a reassuring and protective gesture.
“Now that we’re all here, why don’t you continue what you were saying, Alex? I don’t particularly want to sit here on this couch like a scolded child for longer than necessary,” Dougie says through clenched teeth.
I have to hide my surprise, not used to him taking that tone with anyone.
Alexander’s eyes narrow on him. “I’m only going to remind you once where you are right now.”
“We haven’t forgotten,” Dad puts in, jaw ticking.
“Excellent.” Alex looks at me then, a coldness to him that I was expecting. “You’ve made a mess. One that makes us look like shit. I’m not going to beat around the bush with this. You need to make some hard choices here.”
“What are these choices?” I ask.
“I’m assuming you’ve already been filled in on what’s happened, but I would like to recap.
Sports Weekly has not only uploaded an article claiming we set up this relationship to cover our asses, but they have audio confirmation that proves them right.
Douglas and your father have told me that this audio was collected illegally, but if I’m to be blunt, it doesn’t change anything.
“There isn’t a single person out there who believes our narrative now, and it’s put this organization in quite the predicament. Every main sports page has posted about this situation, and it has spread like a wildfire. The fans aren’t happy. Both ours and yours.”
“If their proof is proven false, you’re really telling me it doesn’t change anything? It’s not our fault someone went to such extremes to ruin all of us. Not just me,” I grit out.
His eyes blaze. “While it might not be your fault that someone went to those lengths, it is your fault that we had to build this story in the first place. You and that deadbeat brother of yours were the cause of this mess. I only did what I could to fix your mess.”
Silence. Edgy, tense silence. And then, “What did you call my son?”
One look at my father’s face has me standing and moving in front of him, blocking his view of Alex. “Dad,” I mutter in warning.
“For fuck’s sake, Oakley. Noah was the cause of all of this, and you still won’t do anything about him. I may be your friend, but I won’t hold my tongue when it comes to that boy,” Alex growls, clearly not caring that Dad is about to send him through a goddamn wall.
Even as my head fills with questions as to why Alex even cares about Noah or my family at all for that matter right now, I stay where I am, refusing to let my dad join this fight.
“Noah isn’t a part of this right now. This is about me and my own mistakes. I’m not denying that I fucked up. But this right here? This isn’t my fault. So, tell me what you need me to do to fix it,” I say.
He pins me with a withering glare. “You’re noble, Maddox. You always have been. I’ll give you that.”
“What does that mean?”
“If you want to point the finger away from your brother, it should be on the woman behind you. We all know that for the most part, you were a victim of circumstance.”
“A victim of circumstance?” I sputter. “The woman has a name, and she isn’t the cause of this. You’re the one who brought Braxton into this. You could have left her be, but you wanted to throw shit in Roy Heights’ face, and she was the easiest way for you to do it.”
His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek as he sniffs.
“You asked what your choices were going forward. And now I’m telling you, it’s her or us.
Either put the blame on her publicly for this entire thing, or you’re done here.
Keep in mind that at the end of the day, we also have a broken NDA on our hands. ”
“Are you blackmailing him? Fuck, Alex. We’re not going down this NDA route. You know that’s a far-fetched plan if we can find evidence that she didn’t break it, which I’m positive we will the minute we start ripping her car apart,” Dougie cuts in.
Alex laughs, but it’s bitter. “If Maddox wants a contract with the Warriors next season, he’s going to do exactly as I ask.
There’s no other way to fix this for us.
The Warriors organization comes first here, not the feelings of a woman or a player who’s lucky to still even be here in the first place. ”
“You’ve been dragging your feet on this contract for months. I want to know the truth before we even continue this conversation,” Dad says.
“I want more than the truth. I want a contract in front of me right the fuck now,” Dougie adds.
I rear back. “Are you kidding me? I don’t need to see a contract because I’m not going to say shit about Braxton. I’m not going there.”
“What would he need to say?” Braxton asks, and four sets of eyes fly toward her. She doesn’t shrink under the pressure of it all, and I want to shout how proud I am of her while also shaking some sense into her.
Alex sidesteps me and focuses on her. “He needs to say that this was real for him, but you were playing him the entire time. Everyone needs to think that you were simply playing a hand for your father. You lied to Rose Carpenter about the fake dating arrangement to make Maddox look bad. Like father, like daughter.”
“You want me to be your scapegoat,” she says.
He nods. “Exactly.”
“Braxton,” Dad mutters, shaking his head at her. “Let us take care of this.”
My girl gives him a soft smile before slipping her eyes over me—an apology glistening in the deep blue—and finding Alex again.
“And if he does this, he’ll still be a Warrior next season?”
“I don’t need a contract from you, Alex. You know damn fucking well that I don’t need you anymore. I’m not doing this,” I interrupt, taking a step forward only to have Dad hold me back this time, a hand clamped around my wrist.
Alex ignores me and walks to his desk, grabbing a thin stack of paper and bringing it to Dougie.
“Yes. If he does this, he’ll be a Warrior for the next eight years. I’ve already had the GM draw up the contract. Eight seasons, twelve million dollars a year.”
Braxton gasps at the high number, and I stiffen further, my muscles burning.
“So, I’ll have a contract, a fat bank account, and be miserable every single day because of what it ended up costing me? No, thanks. I’ll take my chances at free agency,” I say, spinning to face Braxton. Her eyes are wide, cheeks flushed. “We’re leaving.”
“Maddox,” she starts softly, but I shake my head.
“I’m assuming you still want me at practice today, or are you going to risk the Stanley Cup finals without me?” I ask Alex, still staring at my girl.
“Be at practice,” he grinds out, anger vibrating in the words.
I nod. “Then we’re leaving. You can talk to Dougie on my behalf from now on. There’s nothing else I have to say.”
I’m grateful when Braxton stands, moving toward me. As soon as she’s within arm’s distance, I’m pulling her into me, breathing her in to try and calm down.
I glance at Dad over Braxton’s head and watch as he nods at me, a heavy sense of understanding in his stare.
“The offer won’t be around for long, Maddox. I would think carefully about what you could be giving up,” Alex says as I start to lead Braxton out of the office. If I didn’t know better, I would think there’s a hint of desperation in the words.
“I already have, and I’m not losing her again,” I say before walking out of the room, wanting nothing more than to just toss Braxton over my shoulder and run away from this place. From all of this.
Neither of us speaks on the way to the parking garage, and I think that’s because we don’t know what to say. If I’m still reeling from everything that was said back there, I can’t imagine what’s going on in her head right now.
I would be lying if I said that didn’t scare me.
Her car is in the spot we left it, tucked between Dad’s truck and the concrete wall with a Reserved parking sign hung from it.
The ride here was spent in silence, not because we were both too nervous to speak, but because we still weren’t sure if there was a bug, and now that we’re here again, I’m not reliving that experience.
I’m finding this fucking bug.
“Unlock the doors for me, baby girl,” I mutter, a hand on the driver’s door.
She does, and I tear open the door. I’m frantic as I dig through the car, blood pumping in my ears. I root through the things in every compartment there is, every crevice and dip, and still come up empty. It’s not until I slide my hand along the underside of the passenger seat that I feel it.
A curse claws its way up my throat as I rip it out and push out of the car. The small black device that caused so much trouble feels so breakable in my hand, and after taking a picture of it to send to my dad and Dougie, I shove it in my jean pocket.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“You were right,” Braxton whispers. “I think I feel more creeped out than angry.”
“I’m sorry. Shit, this is all my fault.” I dig my fingers into my hair and pull.
She grabs my forearms, and I let go of my hair.
“No. It’s not. You didn’t hire someone to break into my car and put a listening device inside. But I know who did, and I need to go talk to him.”
My eyes fly up. “Let me come.”
“No. I need to do this on my own. He’s my dad, even if he’s an awful one.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods. “I can’t keep doing this with him. Even if he doesn’t listen to me, I have to talk to him. And you need to talk to your dad. There’s a lot on the line here, Maddox. You can’t be hotheaded.”
My lungs tighten. “I don’t like your tone, Curly. We’re going to get this cleaned up and then get back to where we were this morning.”
I don’t know who I’m trying to convince. Her or me.
She offers me a smile. “I know. But it’s going to take some time.”
“Not a lot of it.”
Her hands link behind my head as she pulls me down and kisses me fiercely, like she’s scared it’s the last one she’ll ever get. I slip my arms up her back and kiss her just as eagerly, pushing her up against the car. Fitting myself against her, I hold her hips in my palms and squeeze.
“Go talk to your dad and then come right back to me, okay? Practice will probably run until five, but then I’m all yours,” I murmur against her lips.
She moans softly, burying her face in my neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Curly Fry. Forever and always.”