Chapter 22 Maddox
MADDOX
Beau
Park in the back, to the right of the dumpster. Turn your headlights off when you enter the alley. Make sure you don't signal an alarm when you lock your car. Come to the back door. Knock four times, waiting two seconds between each knock. Only then will you be granted entry.
Idon’t know how one gets into a fight club—you know, because one doesn’t talk about fight club—but I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m walking into.
Or a cult. It’s up in the air at this point.
I do as Beau instructs, making sure my head lights are off and parking next to the dumpster. I’m the only car in the Sugar and Sweets parking lot, which also has me on edge. Is he here? I completely understand why Beau wants to have a chat with me, but all of this seems excessive.
Then again, I’m not about to piss off my future brother-in-law, so I do as he says, lock my car without the fob, and walk to my doom.
Knock.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi.
Knock.
One Mississippi, two Mississi…shit that’s hard to say right in a row.
Knock.
Am I saying Mississippi too fast? I never thought about the speed of my Mississippis.
Knock.
Fuck it. Here goes nothing.
I take a step back after my final pound on the heavy back door.
My stomach is completely tied in knots as I wait.
It’s more than a little ominous back here, with only the moon and the security light above the door illuminating the space.
I hear the turning of a deadbolt, which makes me suck in a breath, unsure of what I’m about to walk into.
But I swear to everything that’s holy and my unborn child, if I walk in and people are wearing robes with candles lit all around, I’m out.
I’ve seen that movie. It doesn’t end well.
“Come in.”
The voice is deep, and I can’t make out whose it is, but I do as it says and start slowly walking through the back hallway. There's barely any lights on inside, and the only sounds are the refrigerators and freezers that are always running.
When I turn the corner, I nearly jump out of my skin. Standing in front of the massive prep table are two larger than life figures. I can’t make out their faces in the dark, but I can tell that their arms are crossed, and I don’t think they’re smiling.
“What is going on?”
I jump again as I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Maddox Gallagher. Welcome to Poker Club.”
As if on cue, every one of the lights comes on in the kitchen. I immediately have to squint, the brightness too much for me to handle.
“Oh that was fucking cool…”
The voice standing next to me said that, except now it’s not as deep as it was before.
I rub my eyes, needing to be able to see what the hell’s going on.
When I start to regain sight, I see that Beau is in front of me, one of the shadowed figures.
And he’s standing next to…Asher Reed? Not sure how he got here, but I’m even more confused when I turn to my left and see the starting center fielder for the Nashville BlueBirds, Theo Lawson.
“What the fuck?”
“Here, take a seat,” Theo says, ushering me toward a stool at Gabi’s prep table in front of a waiting bottle of water. “Sorry if I scared you earlier. I was doing as I was told.”
“Oh shut it, you volunteered,” Beau chimes in. “But I need to know, were you scared? I feel like you were scared.”
“Of course I was scared,” I say to him. “I thought I was about to get murdered!”
“I mean, you did get his sister pregnant,” Asher says. “Also, if I would’ve known when I saw you that night it was Gabi that you were going home to, I would’ve taken a lot more pleasure in our interaction, and given you a lot more shit.”
“Good to know,” I say, still trying to get my wits about me. “Can we back up like…I don’t know…twenty steps? What the hell is going on? What kind of poker club meets in a bakery?”
I have a million more questions, but I have to start here. I also notice the table is suspiciously devoid of a deck of cards, chips, or anything to do with poker. All I’m seeing are three professional athletes, along with bags of flour and other assorted baking ingredients.
“The kind that isn’t poker at all.” Theo steps up to me, reaching out his hand. “We haven’t formally met. Theo Lawson. The founding member of the Poker Club.”
“Will you quit with that shit,” Beau says. “You can’t be the founding member when the three of us came up with this together.”
“No, Asher wasn’t there,” Theo defends. “He came after. The idea was mine and you agreed to it. The sooner you come to terms with that, the sooner we can stop having this fight.”
I chug the bottle of water as I watch two of the biggest sports stars in Nashville argue about who started a secret club that might or might not have anything to do with poker. What the hell is my life right now?
“Guys, you’re confusing Maddox,” Asher says. “Take it easy on him. He’s going through a lot right now.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Can we back up? Like…so far back it would probably be called a prequel?”
“Yes, but there’s one thing we need to clear up first,” Beau says. I take a deep breath, because I know what’s coming. And actually, thank God it is. It’s the only thing that’s going to happen tonight that I would’ve even remotely predicted. “I know about the baby.”
I nod as I make sure to look him in the eye. I don’t want him to think for a second I’m not confident about me, Gabi, or the tiny tot. “I figured you did.”
“I talked to her today,” he says. “So I know you two had a heart-to-heart last night.”
I smile, thinking about what happened after the heart-to-heart. Which probably isn’t my best move in front of her brother. “We did. We’re on the same page.”
“And you’re ready for this?”
Now that makes me laugh. “Is anyone ready to become a father?”
That only earns a loud “ha!” from Asher.
“I’ll tell you what I told her—I’m going to be ready. I’m going to do everything in my power to be as prepared as possible, and be the best partner I can for Gabi. And really, I think that’s all anyone can do.”
“See, Devereaux, you don’t have to kill him.”
I laugh at Theo’s statement. “Was that a possibility?”
“He talks a big game,” Asher says. “But at the end of the day, pretty boy would never get his hands dirty like that.”
“Excuse me for not getting in a fight every day,” Theo says to Asher. “What’s your total up to this year?”
“You mean what’s his total up to in the fight jar his daughter implemented?” Beau adds in. “Has she got the puppy yet? You know that’s what she’s saving for.”
That makes me snicker, remembering Adalyn’s swear jar I’ve already contributed to.
“Don’t you fucking worry about it, and it’s not everyday,” Asher grumbles, throwing up a middle finger for added effect. “But can we get back to business? We properly freaked out Gallagher. You gave him your ‘what are your intentions with my sister’ spiel. Can we fucking bake now?”
Can we what now?
“Did you say can we bake now?”
“Damn straight we are,” Theo confirms. “Here’s your apron. Let’s get to mixing.”
I’m slightly slack jawed as Theo hands me an apron that says “Poker Club” with little chips around the swirly script. “So you call this the Poker Club, but you…bake?”
“Genius, right?” Theo says, his fully tattooed arms tying his apron around his waist. “Though I can’t take credit for that one. That was all Asher.”
“Only because I refuse to tell my babysitter I’m leaving her with my child to go bake.”
I know they just told me a bit of what the hell is going on, but I’m still really fucking confused. “Remember when I said we needed to start back at the beginning? Maybe we need to go before that? Because I still feel like I’m missing a few chapters.”
“We’ll fill you in, but first, what’s your baked good of choice?” Theo says. “We’ll get you set up.”
“I’ve only ever made cookies,” I say. “But how about tonight I observe. This is…a lot.“
“Wise choice. Especially since it’s a free bake night,” Beau says as I watch him start to knead a ball of dough.
“Free bake?”
“We meet twice a month,” Asher says, keeping his focus on the egg whites he’s separating. “Usually we can find a night where none of us are playing, or traveling, or taking a kid to dance class, or doing some crazy-ass trick shot with a golf ball.”
“Hey!” Beau chimes in. “That trick shot series made me a million dollars in sponsorships.”
“We know,” Theo groans. “He tells us that all the time. Be ready for it.”
“Okay…” I’m still very confused, which apparently Beau can tell.
“Where do you want us to begin?” he asks.
“I couldn’t even begin to tell you where.”
“That’s fair, considering we did try to make it look like we were kidnapping you,” Theo says. “It all started last year at one of those boring parties Ethan makes us go to.”
It hits me at this moment that Theo is also signed at West Athletes. “Ethan? As in our agent Ethan West?”
“The very one,” Theo continues. “You know the type of events he makes us do. Dinners for sponsors so we can have face time and kiss ass. Fancy foods you can’t pronounce. Tuxedos that choke us. The savior of an open bar with expensive liquors.”
“I’m familiar,” I say. “Did you say last summer? I don’t remember having to go to one at that time?”
“It was during your training camp, so all the football guys got out of it,” Beau says. “Unfortunately, that was the one weekend I wasn’t at a tournament, and Ethan conned me into putting on the tux and showing up.”
“Oh, you act like it was an inconvenience,” Asher interrupts. “Something to know about this guy”—he tips his head at Beau—“if there’s an excuse to put on a tux, he’s doing it.”
“It’s not my fault I look like I could be the next James Bond.”
Both Theo and Asher roll their eyes. All I can do is laugh. “You mean, minus the accent. And I don’t think any James Bond ever had a beard.”
My joke hits the mark as Beau narrows his eyes at me. “Watch it Gallagher. There’s still time for me to punch you for getting my sister pregnant.”