CHAPTER 34 #2
“No,” I snapped. “I don’t think I’ll be here very long.”
Kenton huffed out a laugh like I was amusing him.
He slid a laptop around, pressing play on a highlight reel of me. My catches, my runs, my blocks. My name overlaid with statistics.
“I still think we can work out a deal,” he said smoothly, setting the glass of water in front of me. “Unfortunately, I realized we never said specific numbers the other night. I think that would have made the evening go smoother.”
I was already shaking my head. “I’m not—”
“We’re prepared to offer you ten million up front, plus royalties. All in exchange for a few simple tips.”
I froze. That amount of money short-circuited my brain for a minute.
“It’s a lot of money, Matthew.” He leaned back, smiling at my reaction. “And pro players do this all the time. It’s not betrayal—it’s business. Think what you could do with the money. Your father’s debt wiped, your future secured.”
“You motherfucker!” I lunged before I thought, fist flying, all the hot, ugly panic and fury that had been roiling in my chest since I’d seen my father in that hospital room roaring to the surface.
Kenton stepped back, moving like he’d done this a hundred times before, calm and practiced, and the punch missed him by inches.
The glass of water trembled where it sat, untouched.
He didn’t flinch. He just gave me an oily smile. “Easy, Matthew,” he said smoothly. “I had nothing to do with your father’s unfortunate incident. I promise you that.”
“Funny that you expect me to believe that,” I spat.
“Believe what you want.” He pushed the laptop away a little, palms up in the most casual surrender I’d ever seen.
“But I do my homework before I work with anyone. I research people. I look at partners, associates, liabilities. Your father’s name came up.
His debt was one of the reasons I chose not to work with him.
” He shrugged, as if that explained everything.
“Too many entanglements, too much risk. I don’t like surprises. ”
“You didn’t work with him,” I said slowly, tasting the words. “Because he was already dangerous for you?”
“No,” Kenton said. “Because he was a risk. Because if I’m going to move money, I need to know the ledger is clean. Ronnie Adler’s book was…messy.” He leaned forward, voice almost friendly. “That’s business, Matthew. Not vengeance.”
My laugh was a choke.
“I’m not here to talk about your father, though. Although, I do give you my condolences and I’m glad to hear he’s on the road to recovery. What I’m here for is a way to get him out and help you. This deal gives you the money for both.”
My thoughts flicked from my dad, who although down for the count right now, would no doubt be up to all his old tricks in a few months…and the money.
Ten million dollars.
For a second, I let the numbers eat me.
I saw it all in a flash: my dad’s hospital bills paid without me having to stretch myself thin, a house for my mom that my father couldn’t gamble away, a college fund for my siblings, and a pile of cash so tall it could give me time to bury the last of Ronnie Adler’s mistakes while I worked on my football career.
I imagined buying time to fix things without looking over my shoulder.
The fantasy was stupidly clean, like a glossy ad: problems solved, futures secured. It made my chest ache.
Kenton watched me with that practiced patience. “Think about it,” he said softly, as if he were offering advice instead of a mirror.
I felt the pull, vicious and stupid.
Then I let it go, because whatever the money could buy, it didn’t buy whatever line I drew inside me.
“I’m not interested,” I finally said. “I’m fucking not interested.”
I slid back from the table and stood up.
Kenton sighed, a quiet, disappointed sound, and smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his cuff. “That’s a shame,” he said lightly, though his eyes were anything but casual now. “You know, Matthew, that reporter the other day, the one asking about that little rumor…that was just the start.”
My stomach went cold.
He smiled. “People like stories. Tragic ones. Scandals. A boy with too much pressure, a family with debt…. You’d be surprised how fast whispers spread once the right people start them.”
My pulse kicked hard in my throat.
“I’m giving you options,” he said smoothly. “We can be friends, or we can be…adversaries. And I don’t think either of us wants that.” He leaned back in his chair, utterly relaxed, like we were just talking game stats. “Friends, Matthew, get protection. They get silence. They get freedom.”
I shook my head and huffed out a dark laugh. I knew these weren’t idle threats, but it had hit me sitting there. I could lose football. I could lose my reputation.
But I wouldn’t lose Ophelia.
And that would make everything okay.
“Yeah, I get it, Kenton,” I drawled. “You’re threatening me. And just because your ears don’t seem to be working…I’ll repeat myself. I’m not for sale.”
Something flickered behind his smile—irritation, maybe. He was about to respond when the conference door suddenly creaked open.
Both of us turned.
Standing in the doorway was a man I knew.
Tall, blonde…an expensive, fitted suit. An annoying smirk on his lips that was just like his brother’s.
Jagger.
Jace’s older brother leaned one shoulder against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world, his hair catching the overhead lights, brown eyes glinting with something amused. He gave me a lazy wink before turning that same expression on Kenton.
“Now, what’s this?” he drawled, his tone smooth as honey and twice as dangerous. “Are you giving my friend Matthew here a hard time?”
Kenton froze. The color drained from his face so fast it was almost impressive. “N-no,” he stammered, straightening in his chair. “Of course not. Just a miscommunication.” His eyes darted to me in full-blown panic, as if I might save him. “That’s all. Just a misunderstanding.”
Jagger pushed off the doorframe, taking one unhurried step into the room, then another. “A miscommunication,” he repeated softly, like he was tasting the word. “Is that so?”
Kenton nodded frantically. “Yes, absolutely. I was just leaving.”
He shoved his chair back so fast it screeched against the floor, but before he could reach the door, Jagger moved, quick and smooth, blocking his path with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You’re never going to contact him again, are you, Kenton?”
Kenton’s throat bobbed. “N-no.”
Jagger tilted his head, still smiling. “No, what?”
Kenton’s voice cracked. “No, sir.”
“Good man.” Jagger’s grin widened, all teeth. He stepped aside with mock politeness, gesturing toward the open doorway. “See yourself out.”
Kenton didn’t have to be told twice. He practically bolted, the door banging shut behind him.
Silence fell for a second as I stared dumbfounded at Jagger. He straightened his cuff with a faint smirk. “That counts as your Christmas present, Adler.”
My brain…and my tongue, finally started working again. “Holy shit, Thatcher. That was incredible. But I have so many questions.”
Footsteps echoed from down the hall, and Jace strolled into the room, helmet hair still damp from practice, a grin already tugging at his mouth.
“Yeah, I bet you do,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder before nodding toward his brother. “You’re welcome, by the way. I told him what was going on, but I didn’t tell him to, you know—go full James Bond about it.”
Jagger rolled his eyes. “James Bond doesn’t threaten people in conference rooms, Jace.”
“Sure he does,” Jace said cheerfully. “It’s just off-screen. You’re like…Bond with anger management issues.”
“I don’t have anger management issues.”
“Yeah, you just scare the piss out of grown men for sport,” Jace shot back. “Totally normal, totally…”
“Don’t say it,” Jagger growled.
“Don’t say what?” said Jace innocently.
“Don’t say mafia,” he snapped before freezing and then wiping a hand down his face. “Fucking hell.”
I was half laughing, half trying to catch up. “Wait, so how did you even know to show up today? I didn’t even know about this meeting.”
Jagger gave a non-answer, straightening his tie with military precision. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”
“That’s not comforting,” I said. “What exactly is your job again? You’re not CIA, are you? Or, like, an assassin? Because honestly, that would make a lot of sense.”
Jace grinned. “Let’s think. What kind of shady job has you disappearing for weeks, then showing up with a tan and bruises?”
“Those were vacations,” Jagger snapped, glaring at him. “I like to do action sports when I vacation, and sometimes I get bruises.”
“Uh-huh,” Jace said, completely unfazed. “You took a vacation to Belarus, Jagger-meister.”
Jagger’s jaw flexed. “People do that all the time.”
“What action sports did you do on your vacation?” Jace asked.
Jagger sighed again, pushing some hair out of his face. “I forget. It was a long time ago.”
Jace looked delighted. “See? That was a shady answer. It was last month.”
Jagger ignored him, turning back to me. “You’re clear, Adler. He won’t bother you again.” Then, with a pointed glance at his brother, he said, “Try not to call me in for whatever soap-opera bullshit you three get into next time. I have an actual life.”
Jace grinned wider. “An actual shady life.”
Jagger shook his head and stalked out, vanishing down the hall as quietly as he’d appeared.
The door shut behind him, and I collapsed into the nearest chair, running both hands over my face as the adrenaline bled out of me. It hit me then—what Jagger had just done. What could’ve happened if he hadn’t.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “That was terrifying.”
Jace puffed out his chest. “Terrifyingly effective, you mean. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I let out a laugh, still in disbelief. “Thank you.”
He grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. “Just as long as this earns me more bestilicious points. It obviously puts me ahead of Parkie-poo. What has he even done for you lately? Come up with a possum idea? That’s terrible.”
I shook my head, pushing to my feet. “He’s definitely behind in points.”
Jace did a fist pump as we both left the room, muttering something about rewarding him with corn dogs.
I was going to pick up Ophelia and then go to Costco right after this and get him some. Along with some milk. I’d even spring for the organic kind. He deserved it.
Steam still clung to the air, the scent of soap and disinfectant mixing with sweat as I toweled off fast, trying to get out of there so I could see Ophelia.
I slung the towel around my waist and yanked open my locker, grabbing for clean clothes. My phone buzzed on the bench beside me. I ignored it, already reaching for my sweats when movement flickered in the mirror behind me.
A figure stepped out from around the corner.
Tall. Black hoodie. Mask.
I jumped, and the towel slipped from my hand and hit the tile with a slap.
The masked guy groaned. “For fuck’s sake, Adler. Haven’t I seen enough of your dick?”
“Shit,” I griped, snatching the towel off the ground and holding it in front of me as I shook my head. It would be my luck that my Sphinx handler, or whoever it was, would continue to catch me in compromising positions. Although in my defense, he was always somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.
It hit me then: If he was here, that meant…it was time for my third trial.
I groaned, thinking I’d been through enough today, as he flicked a crimson envelope at me with two fingers, the wax seal glinting under the fluorescent lights before it hit my chest and fell to the floor.
I snatched it up and ripped it open, holding the towel awkwardly in front of me so he couldn’t see any more of my goods.
Inside was a single card, thick and heavy.
Welcome to the Sphinx.
I read it a few times, not understanding it. “That doesn’t make sense,” I muttered. “I haven’t passed the third trial.”
The guy tilted his head, voice muffled through the mask. “Sometimes life is the third trial, Adler. Good job on not taking the money.”
Before I could say another word, he turned and walked out.
I stared after him in shock, trying to connect all the threads, Jagger and Jace and Kenton and my dad.
Eventually I just gave up and I shrugged. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s not like Kenton hadn’t been a fucking trial. And dealing with my father was just as bad.
It actually seemed fair.
I grinned, thinking the day hadn’t turned out so bad after all.
I’d just become a member of the Sphinx. If I played my cards right, that might be worth ten million dollars right there.