CHAPTER 35 Everleigh Bradley
Choose
I jolt awake as I hear the knocking on my door.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must have.
I told Milton to text me when Maverick got in, and I waited and waited until my eyes drifted closed.
I glance at the clock, and it’s four in the morning.
Why would someone be pounding on my door at four in the morning?
I jump out of bed, my heart pounding in my chest as I make my way over to answer it. I find Maverick standing there. He looks…disheveled. Tired. Angry.
“I have to tell you something,” he blurts.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
“The Legacy Lounge.” He clears his throat as his eyes dart away from me. “Can I come in?”
I open the door a little wider, and he walks through it. He’s pacing, and I’ve never seen him like this.
“What’s going on?” I demand.
“Sit,” he says.
“I’m not a dog.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.
“Fine, then. Stand. I don’t care. Listen, I was at your father’s underground casino tonight when it was raided. SWAT, the FBI, and the Nevada Gaming Commission all busted in.”
I gasp at his words. “What does that mean?”
He’s still pacing. “We couldn’t move, couldn’t use our phones, couldn’t do anything until they talked to each of us.”
“You’re just getting in?” I ask.
He nods. “I was issued a citation, but they want information. They want me to give up the name of the owner. Nobody would do it, but Ev, if I give the name before the team finds out, they could drop the citation, and all this would go away. If I don’t cooperate, I could be charged with a misdemeanor.
Even the citation will get me a suspension from the team, but a misdemeanor means the league will open an investigation, and I could be sidelined until it all goes away.
The feds mean business, and they’re not going to let me off easily.
They want to make examples out of all of us.
But I came to you first. I need you to tell me it’s okay to give his name.
” He’s begging me, pleading with me, his eyes searching mine as he waits for me to give him the green light to name my own father.
Tears pinch behind my eyes that he would even ask me that, and at the same time, I realize that he did ask me.
He could’ve just given the name and gotten out of trouble.
He hates my brother. He hated me until not so long ago.
He probably hates my dad, too—if not before, then certainly now.
Yet he didn’t. He’s here, asking me for permission, and I’m stuck as my stomach rolls and my legs feel like they’re going to give out at any second.
What do I do? Choose the man who I barely know, or choose the man who gave me life?
As if the universe can hear my question, my phone starts to ring.
It’s my father.
Of course it is. News must’ve gotten back to him that his casino was busted, and he may not have much time before the authorities show up on his doorstep. He’s probably making the rounds and calling all of his children right now despite the fact that it’s four in the morning here in Vegas.
Shit. Shit!
I know it’s about this same situation. It has to be.
But what if it isn’t?
What if something happened to my mom? What if she’s declining or even worse and he’s calling to let me know? I can’t not pick up.
“Dad?” I answer.
“Everleigh, I need your silence. I need you to promise you’ll put our family first. Our legacy. Promise me, darling.” He’s begging me. I’ve never heard his voice like this before. Never. “Listen, if you tell anyone that I’m tied to that place, I’ll go to jail. It stays between us. Promise me.”
I don’t know what to do. I can’t put him through whatever it is he’ll have to go through if his secret comes out, not when we’re all worried about my mom.
“I promise,” I say softly, my eyes on Maverick as I watch his shoulders physically deflate at my words to my father.
“Is Mom okay?” I ask quietly, turning away from Maverick.
“She’s the same. But I suspect seeing her family in ruins wouldn’t help the situation,” he says. “I know it’s early there. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.”
He cuts the call, clearly satisfied with my response, but Maverick clearly is not.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask quietly. “You’re asking me to choose between my family and—”
“And my reputation,” he finishes flatly. “The very thing you moved across the country to fix.”
“I can do both,” I protest.
“Can you? Because it would save me a hell of a lot of trouble if I could give the police your father’s name.
” He shakes his head and clenches his jaw as he walks toward my door.
He opens it, and he turns back toward me before he walks through it.
“How are you going to clean it up when my citation becomes a misdemeanor and it’s on my record because you’re protecting a man who never showed you any loyalty?
” He slams the door closed, and I stare at it as tears start to tumble down my cheeks.
He's right. I did move across the country to fix his reputation, and we were on the right track.
Things were getting better. He was starting to earn back the respect of his teammates, his coaches, his colleagues around the league.
He fell for me, and I fell for him. We were in this together.
We were ready to take on the world as we did our finger breathing on the roof the other night.
But now he has a citation, and things could get worse once the DA reviews the case. They’ll try to make an example out of him—especially when he won’t talk. And he won’t…because he’s protecting me. He’s protecting my family.
And I can’t do the same goddamn thing for him.
Two hours later, I’m showered and ready for the day as I sip my second cup of strong coffee. I’m getting ready to head to the practice facility when I hear more pounding on my door.
Thank God. I was worried Maverick was going to head to practice without seeing me first, and we definitely need to talk.
I whip the door open without bothering to peek through the peephole, and I say, “Thank God.”
“For what?” my brother asks.
“Dex,” I say with surprise in my voice. “What are you doing here?”
His brows dip. “Who did you think would be knocking on your door at six in the morning?” His eyes edge to the front door on the other side of the hall, and he narrows his eyes at me.
I realize then that Dex doesn’t know everything that’s gone down between Maverick and me.
“What are you doing here?” I repeat instead of answering his question. I open the door to let him in and turn away from him.
“Did Dad get to you?” he asks.
I nod. “He called earlier begging me to promise I wouldn’t associate his name with that place. But Maverick was there, and if he names him, he’ll get off easier.”
“He was strategic in how he set things up so he’d never take the fall,” Dex says. “I’m not sure how much it would matter if he did name him. Speaking of thanking God, I’m pretty damn grateful this morning I got my name out of that place months ago.”
“I can’t believe Dad tried to set you up to take the fall,” I say.
“I don’t think that’s what it was. I genuinely think he just wanted my connections, and he was willing to pay me for them.”
“Why do we always defend him?” I ask.
He gives me a wry smile as he shrugs. “Because he’s our father, and he raised us to do that.”
I set my hand on my forehead. “This is such a mess. I’m supposed to be cleaning things up, and instead it feels like I’m in an even bigger mess protecting a man who has never shown any loyalty to me when it might not even matter.” I realize I’m using Maverick’s words, but it’s true.
“What’s going on between you and Jennings?” he asks.
My eyes dart away from him, which is a dead giveaway.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he mutters.
“I didn’t mean to fall for him,” I say softly.
He wrinkles his nose. “Fall for him?”
I lift a shoulder. “But in the moment, I still chose Dad. Over Maverick. Over my job. I told Maverick I could protect both, but I don’t know if I can.”
“Yeah. If the only way to clear Maverick’s name is to name Dad as the brains behind the operation, you’re pretty well fucked.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly. “I need to make a call before I head to the Complex.”
He nods as he walks toward my door. “I’ll see you around.”
I dial Ellie’s number as soon as the door clicks shut behind my brother. It’s early, but I figure I’ll just leave a voicemail—until she answers.
“Everleigh, hi. I saw the news about Maverick,” she answers.
“Do you ever sleep?” I ask.
She chuckles. “No. My youngest came in with a nightmare at five, and I was up so I checked headlines. I guess that was a mistake. What do you know?”
I debate exactly how honest to be here. On the one hand, she’s become a friend.
I could confide in her that Maverick and I have a relationship that’s more than just brand strategist and client.
But I don’t necessarily want her to know my own connection to that casino.
The fewer people who know, the better. Loose lips sink ships and all that.
I clear my throat. “The DA will work with him if he gives up information about the operators, but he’s staying quiet.”
“Then we make him talk,” she suggests.
I’m quiet a beat as I consider that, but I’m still stuck here. I can’t let him turn my own father in. It’ll be a far worse punishment for a felony operating illegal casinos versus a misdemeanor for getting caught at one. “I don’t think we can make him do much of anything.”
“True. Okay, so we either make him look like an innocent bystander who didn’t know this was an illegal operation, or we own it and sell the redemption story hard,” she says.
“I don’t think it’s plausible he didn’t know. He was in the basement of a casino with a coded door,” I point out.
“How do you know?”
I can’t exactly say it was because I once saw him there and was thwarted by my own father, so I make up an excuse. “He told me.”
“Right. Then he owns it, and we bury it. We release a controlled statement, flood the media with something else, control the narrative, and cross our fingers that his sponsors don’t start dropping him.”
“What would you flood the media with?” I ask, scared to hear the answer but already knowing what it is.
“I wouldn’t use his mother, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says quietly. “It’s insensitive even though it would help solve a lot of this.”
“It’s off the table. If you want to talk about the big donation he just made to Alzheimer’s research, that’s one thing. But using his mother’s funeral as a defense would be gross.”
“I agree, and I won’t. I can’t speak for how the media will twist things, though, and it would garner plenty of sympathy.” She changes the subject before I can further comment. “I know Jack will want this cleaned up quickly, so keep him off socials, and I’ll do what I can to mitigate.”
“Does the team know?” I ask quietly.
“If I know, you can bet your ass Jack will be calling Mav in first thing this morning,” she says.
“What should I do?”
“Don’t leave his side, but if you can, find out who else was there,” she suggests. “Maybe we can use that to spin attention away from Mav. Or if we could figure out who’s behind this place, we could use that somehow. I don’t know. I’m just brainstorming here.”
Don’t leave his side. That’s going to be a tough one considering he has every right to feel hurt and betrayed by me after promising my father I wouldn’t name him.
But it’s what I’m being paid to do, so I’m out of options.
I guess it’s better than her other option of figuring out who’s behind this place since I already know the answer to that.
“Okay.”
We end the call, and I walk over to Maverick’s place, crossing my fingers that this won’t be as bad as I think it will be while my heart thunders in my chest.