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"I'm dropping in to see that you're all on track for our big match on home turf this week. Tickets are selling quickly. Looks like it’s going to be a full stadium. Might even be some scouts around."
I study him, wondering what his game plan is here. "Preparation is going the same as it always is." And I can't help myself, I need to know. Why did he bring me in, why did he fuck with our lives and drag us into his mess? "Why is winning this year so important to you? You had to know bringing a team that did so badly last year to the number-one spot would be near impossible."
"That's why we brought you in."
"What do you get out of it? If we win?" I push, not wanting to beat around the bush any longer. I need some answers.
"A shiny trophy for the awards cabinet." He smirks, like I'm an idiot.
"You see, I don't think that's it. We win consistently, then we draw big crowds to our stadium, making the school a nice profit." I raise a brow, watching to see how that goes down.
His eyes go wide, and I know I have him. This is his plan to pay off his gambling debts. Take from the school’s accounts or bet on us, and that's why I get the same little check-in every week. He's looking for insider details. I see the sudden uncertainty flash in his eyes. But he straightens up, trying to look confident. "Ev-every school wants to make a profit from their team. It means we can fund other sporting activities around the school and help out kids whose families can't afford to play without funding," he stutters out. "I thought you of all people would understand. You wouldn't have gotten anywhere without the generosity of this very school all those years ago."
The reality of that comment stings. Truth often does. But this isn't about me, it's about him and whatever dodgy shit he's up to. So, I let it roll over me like it's nothing. "That's true. Funny, we’ve been filling the stadiums since the first game and yet there never seems to be money for any new equipment. Maybe you could have your secretary, send me through the paperwork on where we’re up to this year. I think as the coach it could be important for me to know the figures. I would also like to donate to this cause, knowing exactly what it means to the students," I suggest, waiting for his reaction. I know he has nowhere to go. If he shows me the figures and there’s money missing, we have him for it. If it's all still there, he has no way to pay the boys off. Either way, he’s screwed. And I have the slimy son of a bitch right where I want him.
His face reddens, and he looks like he might have an aneurysm at any second. I got to him. A smile tugs at my lips, knowing I'm about to make up for what he has done to my ma. This is the first time I've ever seen him drop the used-car-salesman grin he wears like he's playing a character. He's pissed, and his eyes narrow in on me. "You're such a cocky little asshole these days. Your own pockets are lined with cash, so you think you can look down on the less fortunate of us who are only trying to do our jobs as best we can. When I got you this job it was for your mother. She needs you close by now that she’s so unwell. And this is how you repay me. By questioning my integrity." His voice is low and laced with bitterness.
"It has nothing to do with me. Don't bullshit me. I have no idea how she was able to fall for your shit, but I won't. I know exactly why you got me here for this job. It was to fill your stadium. A big name to bring in all the fans. You think you’re smart, but you're not. I see right through you, and my mom will too in her own time." I add the last part just so the surprise he gets when he arrives home to find her gone is all the better.
"Don't push me, Son. I have more pull around here than you think." He stands, storming from my office like a man on a mission. Probably trying to work out how the fuck he’ll get himself out of this one. You don't, Jerry, that's how. You made your bed and now you get to lie in it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
BRANDON
Cassandrahasbeeninthe stands watching our game tonight with Scarlet. She returned to work on Wednesday happier than I have seen her in a long time. The four of us sat together to have our lunch, and it damn near killed me to be so close to her but have to keep my distance. She didn't mention anything about New York or her interview, so I don't know if she got the job or not, but she’s had an air to her ever since that tells me I definitely made the right decision by sending off that tape for her.
Tonight, I haven't been able take my eyes off her since the game ended. She's been talking with Scarlet in the stands, but as I watch them, her gaze catches mine. She offers me a small smile, says something to Scarlet, and makes her way through the empty seats to where I’m standing with Miles.
"Hard game to watch. Sorry you didn't get the win, boys." She offers a sympathetic smile as she leans over the barrier, looking down on us. She’s wearing skinny jeans and a Scorpions jersey, with her hair in two braids that hang on either side of her face; she looks as sweet as candy. My fingers twitch, aching to reach out and touch her again. It's been a long week without her by my side, and I don’t know how much longer I can take this torture.
"Can't win them all." I shrug. We knew tonight's game would be tough, and the boys played well, it just didn't go our way.
"They did their best out there, and that’s all we can ask," says Miles. The kids are disappointed, we all are, but he's right. Sometimes the game just doesn't go your way. And this team needs to learn that just as much. It's character-building.
"Yeah, someone needs to tell him that." She points in Jerry's direction, and I can't help the smirk from forming on my lips at the sight of him losing his shit in the stands before storming off. His mask has really slipped this week. First me calling him out, then realizing Ma left his ass. Now he has just lost a game he most certainly needed to win. That I know for a fact because he had visited Kobe down at The Joker earlier in the week, placing a substantial bet on our team. The Scorpions weren't even paying that much for the win, but I guess since they were undefeated, he might have thought it would pay off. It might have just been the thing to get him over the line to pay back his debt. Now, though, his week has just gone from bad to worse.
I watch the slippery fucker disappear into the back corridor that leads to the office, knowing exactly what he's about to do. The boys gave him till tonight to pay up, and right now he'll be scrambling. "Somehow I think for him it has more to do with the money he just lost than it does with our team losing. And unlucky for him, his day is about to get worse." I smirk like the devil himself. Revenge on this piece of shit never felt so good.
Cassie looks to us, confusion crossing her pretty features. "You’ve lost me. Money?"
"I might leave you guys to it," offers Miles with a wave. "I'll be in the changeroom if you need me," he tells me. He knows what's about to go down tonight.
"See you on Monday," Cassie says with a friendly smile, one that makes my jaw tic, even though I know she's not interested.
"I have a lot to catch you up on," I tell her, knowing exactly what I need to do—come clean about it all. She needs to know my truths, all of them.
"If you're ready to let me in, I would love to hear all about it. Do you have time to talk now? I have something pretty big I want to run by you."
"Can you hang out for a bit? I need to catch Jerry before he leaves for the night, but then I'm all yours."
"Okay, I'll just wait for you here." She smiles in that way I love, and I know she has more than just talking on her mind. At least that's what I hope she's thinking. I’ve missed her; I need her body under mine.
Jerry's curses travel down the concrete hallway the closer I get. Yeah, tonight didn't go according to plan, and he’s running out of time. Panic must be setting in right about now. In his head the football fans have all gone home. No one to hear his angry rant.
I shove open the stadium office door with such force, it collides with the wall behind. Jerry flinches, his anxious eyes flying up to meet mine. Piles of money are stacked high as he scribbles on a notepad beside him. His irritation turns to anger when he sees who is standing before him. "What the fuck are you doing here, Lewis?" he bellows, his face reddening.
"Maybe I should be asking you the same question. You never did find that paperwork for me to look over. Coming up short on the money you owe the Rivera boys, hey?"
