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“Yes. I took an Uber here so I could ride with you.” She stands and slides her Kindle into her purse.
“Take me home.”
She helps me stand from the seat, and I place my arm around her shoulders, leaning some of my weight on her but careful not to give it all to her. Slowly we make it toward the exit.
“Which one of you drove here?” Joey asks.
“I did. Let me help,” Caleb offers, taking my suitcase so I can hold onto his sister a little better.
“I’m fine. Just got my bell rung. I’m better now. You two can stop fussing.”
“Oh, so you can walk on your own?” Joey tilts her head to look at me.
“Yeah, the dizziness has passed, but I’m not letting go of you.” There is no room for argument in my tone.
“I didn’t ask you to,” she sasses.
With a smile on my face for the first time in days, we make our way to the parking garage. As soon as we push open the doors to the parking lot, we’re swarmed with media. Cameras flash and microphones are shoved into our faces.
“Brock, what do you think about the trade rumors after only a few games with the Ramblers?”
“Brock, is she worth it?”
“Brock, how can you compare mother and daughter?”
The three of us ignore their questions as we push forward to Caleb’s car. He opens the back door, and Joey and I both climb inside. He rushes around and slides behind the wheel, locking the doors. Thankfully he has dark tinted windows.
“What in the hell was that? Why are they talking about a trade? Am I being traded?” I ask Caleb, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. I know there were rumors, but I thought that’s all it was. Rumors.
“Fuck, man, I don’t know what’s going on.”
“It’s our sperm donor,” Joey speaks up. “He not only wants to control my life he wants to ruin it.”
“Let’s get home, and we can figure this out. We need to get away from these leeches.” Caleb puts the car in Drive, and slowly, we move through the swarm of media.
“I can’t believe him,” Joey seethes as she tosses her tablet on the couch next to where she’s curled up next to me.
“This is low, even for him,” Caleb agrees.
“And the bastard won’t answer his phone,” Joey hisses.
When we got home from the airport, Joey got me settled on the couch, and ran upstairs to get her tablet. It didn’t take her long to find an interview from her dad that was given after today’s game. He tried to play it off that my performance was lacking, and if it continued, there could be another trade in my future. The reporter called him out, reciting my stats. His face turned bloodred. It wasn’t until he asked him about me sleeping with his ex-lover and his daughter that I truly thought his head might explode. He huffed out a “No further comment,” and stalked off toward the locker rooms.
“Hey.” I pull her into my chest. “It’s fine. My stats on the field speak for themselves. It’s going to be fine.”
“Other than today, the team has been killing it, and Brock filling the tight end position has a lot to do with that. The team owner and Coach Matthews know what’s up. He’s not going to let the highest-ranked tight end in the league go because our dickhead of a father tells him to. He might have pull in the league, but trust me, he doesn’t have that much,” Caleb chimes in.
I shrug. “We’ll deal with whatever comes our way.”
Joey sits up and turns to look at me. “How are you so calm about this? This is your career, Brock.”
Reaching out, I push her hair back out of her eyes. “Yeah, but there are some things that are more important.”
“What? You’ve worked your ass off for your career. You can’t mean that.”
“Let’s just take it all one day at a time,” I tell her. “Now, I could use a shower. I need to wash off the travel.”
“You good to get upstairs?” Caleb asks.
