Shot Caller (A Bad Boy's Baby Novel) (14 page)

“What
did you just say to me?”
she
says, rising to her feet.

“Come
on, Chris,”
I
intervene, “Don’t punish her because some stupid gossip mill is in a tizzy over
two people fucking.”

I
feel Poppy’s furious gaze swing my way as Glover sets his jaw.

“You’re
staying behind too, Walcott,”
he
tells me, “I can’t have you out on the pitch with this storm cloud of bullshit
hanging over you.”

My
jaw drops open as Glover’s words hit me in the gut.

“You
can’t be serious,”
I
exclaim, “I’ve been busting my arse in training all week. You need me out there,
Chris.”

“What
I need is for you to get your act together,”
he returns, “Both of you. Try and sort
yourselves out while we’re on the road. I’ll try and figure out what the hell
I’m going to do with you both.”

Turning
on her heel, Poppy tears open the office door and storms away, leaving me in
the dust. With one last glare at my manager and trainer, I head off after her.

“You’re
making a big mistake,”
I
tell the men, blood boiling.

“Looks
like the mistake was trusting you to change your ways,”
Glover returns.

Before
I can stop myself, I grab a heavy office chair and toss it clear across the
room. It cracks in two as it hits the back wall, falling to pieces at once.
O’Leary gapes at me as Glover gaze turns to steel.

“News
flash, Chris. Changing my ways has never been my specialty,”
I tell my manager,
slamming his office door behind me.

Chapter Eighteen

Poppy

Do
not cry. Don’t you dare cry, I command myself, all but sprinting toward the
exit before the rest of the guys can see the tears in my eyes.

“Pops,
wait up!”
Hadrian
Barlow calls out, trotting down the hallway to catch up with me, “What the hell
happened in there?”

“You’ll
find out soon enough,”
I
say sarcastically, “Just boot up your computer and watch the gossip roll in.”

“Shit,”
Barlow breathes, “Did
someone find out about you and Mad?”

I
stop dead in my tracks, spinning around toward the redheaded captain.

“How
the hell do you know about that?”
I gasp. “Did he tell you something?”

“What?
No!”
Barlow
says, backpedaling as best he can, “It’s just…I mean…It’s kind of obvious,
Poppy.”

An
incredulous laugh escapes my lips as the wind is knocked out of me. “Great.
That’s just great,”
I
mutter, backing away. “I’m glad you all think so much of me.”

“It’s
not—”
Barlow
begins, but he’s cut off by a huge crash that rings out of Glover’s office.
“What the hell was that?”

The
office door wrenches open, and Maddox comes charging out toward me. The rest of
the team starts spilling into the hallway to check out the action. Goddammit.
The last thing I need is a big lover’s quarrel in front of the entire squad.
Turning my back on the lot of them, I race toward the exit. Bursting out into
the afternoon sunlight, I know that I can’t hold back my outraged tears any
longer. I sink back against the wall of the stadium, letting the tears roll
down my flushed face.

“This
can’t be happening,”
I
breathe, shoving my hands through my hair. “This can’t—”

The
training facility doors fly open as Mad barrels through them in search of me. I
hastily turn away from him, trying to hide my tears.

“Poppy,”
he says, taking a step
toward me, “Poppy, come on…”

“What
do you want, Mad?”
I
gasp, trying to force air back into my lungs.

“I
want you to look at me, for fuck’s sake,”
he says firmly.

I
straighten my spine and slowly turn to face him. He stands there, looking back
at me with a look of bemused impatience. Of course. Maddox Walcott doesn’t
do
emotions.

“There’s
no need to get all upset,”
he
tells me.

“Don’t
tell me what I should be feeling,”
I shoot back at him.

“Why
the fuck are you angry with me?”
he growls, “We’re both screwed, here.”

“You
seriously don’t understand why I’m mad at you?”
I laugh incredulously, “Maddox, you
humiliated me back there.”

“What
are you talking about?”
he
seethes.

“You
just came right out and told our bosses we’re fucking,”
I spell it out for him,
“Without even consulting me. Did you not stop to think that I would want a say
in what our next step should be?”

“So
I took the lead,”
Maddox
shouts back, “It’s not like we had any other choice but to come clean.”

“I’ve
been making my own choices all my life, Mad,”
I tell him firmly, “I don’t need you
to start making them for me now.”

“You’re
bloody impossible,”
he
says, his inked biceps straining as he clenches his fists. “I’m not even gonna
bother with you while you’re like this.”

“Fine,”
I shout after him as he
turns away, “Why don’t you just go hang out with that lowlife criminal Charlie
Ainsworth instead. I’m sure he could use a hand carrying out your gang’s dirty
work.”

My
words stop Maddox dead in his tracks. Every muscle in his body seems to tighten
with rage as he turns back to face me.

“Don’t
you dare say a word against Charlie,”
he growls, “Or about The Firm. You don’t
have any bloody idea what you’re talkin’
about.”

“I
know that you’re a fucking idiot to be messing around with the likes of them,”
I tell him, feeling my
legs go weak under the force of his gaze.

“Well
then,”
he
says slowly, his voice deathly low, “If I’m such a fucking idiot, what does
that make you for wanting anything to do with me?”

“Good
question,”
I
reply, crossing my arms tightly across my chest.

Maddox
takes a good, long look at me before turning away—for good this time. Without a
backwards glance, he gets into his car and tears away from the stadium. I stand
looking after him, knowing full well that I went too far by insulting The Firm.
Those men are the only real family he’s ever had. But it’s too late to take
back what I’ve said. Too late to take back all the things Maddox and I have
done.

I’m
so numb that I almost don’t notice as my cell vibrates against my thigh. It’s
been going off like mad for the last couple of hours. Grabbing the device with
my shaking hands, I peer down at the screen. A jolt of fury goes through my
heart as I see Jason’s name on the on the screen, followed by my mother’s.

Jason:
Slow news day, huh?

Mom:
Care to explain this article to me, Poppy? I really can’t believe how low
you’ve stooped this time…

I
have to clench my teeth to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs. No
matter how far I go, no matter how high I rise, this sonofabitch Jason and my
goddamn family will still try to drag me back to square one. My past has been
holding me back all my life, and now it may just succeed in sinking me.

“No,”
I murmur to myself,
marching toward my car, “No. I can handle this. I
can
…”

Forcing
myself to remain calm, I drive away from the stadium that was just starting to
feel like home. I refuse to lose this gig because of some ill-advised fling.
Hell, for I all know Maddox will want nothing to do with me after I insulted
The Firm back there. It’s not like I’m too thrilled with him, either. Just when
we need to be a united front in dealing with this situation, we’re knee-deep in
our first proper fight. Talk about
fantastic
timing.

The
late afternoon sky tips dizzily overhead as I park outside the bungalow and
head inside. All at once, the stress and anxiety of this afternoon turn my
stomach, churning uncomfortably as I fumble my keys. My throat constricts as an
acidic taste rises in the back of my throat. I press a hand to my mouth as I
finally jimmy the door open, bolting for the first floor bathroom. Just in the
nick of time, I fall to my knees before the toilet and let the inevitable
happen. The sudden sickness takes me by surprise. I don’t usually have an
anxious stomach. But then again, I’ve never been the subject of a world-wide
smear campaign either. First time for everything, I guess.

I
flush the toilet and lean back against the bathroom wall, letting my head hang
forward. With the team out on the road this weekend and Maddox pissed off at
me, I get the feeling that these are going to be a pretty excruciating few
days. Mere hours ago, I would have killed for a day off from work. But now, I’d
give anything for something to keep my mind off my quickly imploding life.

Things
sure do change fast here in Atlantic City.

Chapter Nineteen

Maddox

“You
want another one of those?”
the
bartender asks, eyeing my empty whiskey glass.

“You’re
damn right I do,”
I
growl back at him through clenched teeth.

It’s
Friday evening, and I’m hunkered down at one of the smaller bars here at the
Tangier. I’m such a goddamn regular now that they agreed to put the game on the
big screen behind the bar. The game I would have been starting in, if
everything hadn’t gone to shit.

“Not
looking too good for The Empire, is it?”
the bartender points out, setting my fresh
drink down before me.

“No,
it bloody well isn’t,”
I
reply, eyes glued to the screen.

This
game has been like a slow-motion car wreck. No matter how bad it gets, I just
can’t look away. We’re 75 minutes into the 90-minute match, losing 3-0 to a
team we should have been able to beat, easily. And even though it’s Glover’s
fault for pulling me out of the match, I feel a twisting knot of guilt building
in my gut as I watch my team’s anguished, angry faces up on the screen. If I
hadn’t lost my cool when Glover confronted me about that stupid article, maybe
I’d be out there with them now.

But
instead, I’m here. Alone at the bar on a Friday night. If Poppy wasn’t so mad
at me, maybe I’d call her up to commiserate. Though truth be told, I’m still
pretty pissed with her about what she said yesterday. I was just starting to
think that she was someone who’d be able to take me as I am, thorns and all.
But then she brings up Charlie and The Firm, talking about them like they’re
monsters. When you insult The Firm, you insult me too. And I don’t take kindly
to being insulted. Not even by someone I let stay the night.

“I’ll
have whatever he’s having,”
Charlie
says to the bartender, sinking into the bar stool beside me.

I
glance over at my mate, feeling my jaw pulse with tension. Just because
Charlie’s basically a brother to me, doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed at him,
too.

“Haven’t
seen you in days,”
I
mutter, “Been out rubbing elbows with the locals?”

“Something
like that,”
Charlie
sighs, gratefully accepting his drink.

“You’re
usually better at keeping a low profile,”
I go on, my eyes hard on his face, “How
the hell did your comings and goings end up in the press yesterday?”

“It’s
hard to keep a low profile around you these days,”
Charlie shoots back,
“Looks like everyone who comes close to you ends up exposed.”

Goddammit.
Charlie’s always known how to cut right down to the bone with me.

“Is
it true, then?”
I
press him, “What the article was saying?”

“Parts
of it,”
Charlie
shrugs, “Yeah, I’ve been meeting with some local…leaders. Times are hard for
The Firm. We need some new sources of income.”

“Have
you forgotten that I’m a bloody millionaire?”
I shoot back at him, “If The Firm
needs money, why didn’t they just come to me?”

“Mad,”
Charlie says, laying a
firm hand on my shoulder, “You just got booted from your home league just for
being an associate of The Firm. You think we want to see your life ruined
because you bailed us out?”

“I
wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for The Firm. Certainly not this life,”
I tell him, taking a long
swig of my drink.

“And
we all know that,”
Charlie
goes on, “And we know you’re grateful. But that’s all the more reason why none
of us want to see you crash and burn.”

“What’re
you tellin’
me,
Ainsworth,”
I
press him.

“All
I’m saying is, you’ve got a fresh start here in the States, so don’t be an
arsehole. Don’t blow it. Sure, The Firm took you in once upon a time, but you
got yourself the rest of the way here. And the fact of the matter is, you’re
gettin’
to
be too big a star. You cast too much light on our…
shadier
doings.”

“Are
you breakin’
up
with me or something?”
I
ask sarcastically.

“I
just want you to know that you don’t need to tank your career out of loyalty to
The Firm,”
Charlie
explains, “Hell, you’ll be no good to us as a pathetic, washed-up fallen
football star anyway.”

It
takes me a minute to sort through Charlie’s vague offering, but I finally put
it together. The Firm is giving me an out. A way to remain loyal to them in
spirit without losing everything I’ve built on account of my ties to them. They
saved my life once when I was a grubby eight-year-old, and they’re saving it
again now that my back is against the wall. I’ll never stop owing them my life,
no matter how much I have to distance myself from their name. At this point,
the only way to preserve myself and The Firm is to take a step back. An
ocean-sized step.

“To
The Firm then,”
I
say, raising my glass.

“Always,”
Charlie nods, clinking
his glass to mine.

We
drink in silence as the game draws to a close on the big screen. Our opponent
managed to get one more in before the 90 minutes ran out. It’s our worst loss
to date, and I can feel the defeat in every bone in my body.

“Hey,”
Charlie says, glancing
over at me with renewed curiosity, “Was the rest of that article true? The bit
about you and your trainer?”

“That
it is,”
I
tell him, “Or at least, it was.”

“What
do you mean?”
he
asks, brow furrowing.

“I’ve
been seeing Poppy on the sly for a few weeks now,”
I inform Charlie, “But
since our bosses found out about it yesterday, we’ve been in a bit of a
standoff.”

“What,
were your bosses mad?”

“Of
course they were mad,”
I
laugh, “Did you forget the part where this is a huge scandal that the club now
has to deal with?”

“Well,
exactly,”
Charlie
shrugs, “What are scandals if not PR gold? You’d think the club would be ecstatic
to have so much attention coming their way.”

I
stare at Charlie, the gears of my mind churning madly.

“Charlie,
you might actually be a goddamned genius,”
I say, in awe.

“Tell
me something I don’t know,”
he
winks. “Now, why don’t you go mend fences with Poppy and leave me here to pick
up some tail of my own?”

“A
genius, and fucking charming to boot,”
I laugh, giving him a clap on the back.

I
do as Charlie suggests and leave him at the bar, but I don’t go right to
Poppy’s place. First, I’ve got to go see a failed casino magnate about a
certain scandal.