Page 16 of Lucky Shot

“What’s all this nonsense that I’m being asked about regarding you? I demand that you straighten up and stop dragging my name through the mud and ruining my reputation.”

We don’t even share the same last name. I snort. “But my name is good enough to unlock doors and get you invited into circles that you otherwise couldn’t get into. Got it.”

“I’m warning you.”

“Or else what?” You going to take my mum away from me? Already done that. Fuck this. “I have to go. Duty calls.”

My hands clench the steering wheel as I stare at the scene before me and seethe over Monty’s demand. As I weigh what’s the right thing to do.

This place is shady as fuck.

As I debate what would be the wrong thing to do.

I’ll be lucky to have tires on the car when I get back to it.

And then figure the million selfish things in between.

I demand that you straighten up and stop dragging my name through the mud and ruining my reputation.

I grunt.

Why change now, right? Why think about anyone other than myself? Isn’t that exactly what I was taught?

I push the ignition button and the engine leaps back to life.

Indecision wars and despite having a pretty damn good inkling on which side will win out in the end, I take one last glance up at where I’m supposed to be—the football academy—and I pause.

She’s pretty. Not in that stunning, red carpet glamorous kind of pretty, but there’s something about the woman who walks out the side door and over to the fence to look around that catches my eye. The way she carries herself—her athletic build, her body, her confidence.

Maybe it’s a mix of all four.

Regardless, it’s enough to have me give pause and study her from behind the veil of my tinted windscreen.

I’m warning you.

But even a hot woman isn’t enough to make me stay. Those are a dime a dozen.

Fuck you, Monty. Let’s drag that name of yours through the mud a bit more.

Fuck this shit.

Just fuck it.

CHAPTER FOUR

Whitney

Why does everyone around me keep glancing at each other?

A news reporter from one station to a reporter from a rival station.

Then Mayhem’s Ari to her assistant every couple of seconds.

Her assistant and the frequent texts on her phone.

And then there’s me glancing around at all the kids, wondering how much longer I’m going to be able to keep them from getting antsy and acting out. The older kids are fine, gossiping and chatting the time away, but the younger kids are here to get out energy, not sit idle.

Patience only lasts so long in both kids and adults, and I’m definitely proof of that.