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40
MADDOX
The arena is freezingwhen we enter, heading straight for Alexander’s office. Braxton’s fingers are squeezing mine tight, and I hate how terrified she looks right now. Seeing her so afraid only pisses me off more, and that’s not a great way to start a conversation with my boss.
Although, at this point, I’m not sure he even counts as my boss anymore. Not after we’re finished with this conversation, at least.
The realization is daunting. It’s one that’s been bouncing around in my skull since we left the penthouse, and still, I can’t get a good grasp of it. Of what it means or what will come next for me in this league.
We turn the corner, and the closed office door comes into view. Braxton sucks in a tight breath, and I squeeze her hand, stroking the back of it with my thumb when we come to a stop. A rock lodges in my throat when she pushes her shoulders back and looks up at me with a completely fake smile.
“Not for me, sweetheart. You don’t need to wear a mask for me,” I tell her softly.
She blinks, and her lips roll. “I know. This is for me. I can’t walk in there looking like a wounded deer, or I’m going to get eaten alive.”
“I’m proud of you.”
The hint of a real smile. “Good.”
“We’re walking out of here together, better than we were when we walked in,” I remind her.
“Okay,” she breathes.
I tap a finger beneath her chin and then lift it, bending to kiss her softly. She pushes up on her tiptoes and returns the gesture, lips parting with mine, our breath curling together.
“Okay, let’s get this over with,” she whispers.
Drifting my thumb across her bottom lip, I nod and take a step back.
As we cover the last of the distance between us and the office door, I clear my throat. “Nobody is going to let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” she says, confident.
After taking another look at her, I rap my knuckles against the door and slip on my own mask just as it’s pulled open. The scowl on the face of the man who opened it makes me step inside first, shifting Braxton behind me slightly as we enter.
“Maddox,” Alex says, voice gritty. “Braxton.”
“Alexander.”
“Hi,” Braxton whispers.
He shuts the door, and I lead Braxton toward where my dad and Dougie are sitting on the long leather couch. Dad gives her a brief smile as she sits beside him, leaving enough room at the end of the couch for me to sandwich her in. Dougie’s stare grips mine when I glance in his direction, and the barely restrained rage in them is enough to give away just how terrible their conversation prior to our arrival has gone.
I sit beside Braxton and drop my hand to her thigh in both a reassuring and protective gesture.
“Now that we’re all here, why don’t you continue what you were saying, Alex? I don’t particularly want to sit here on this couch like a scolded child for longer than necessary,” Dougie says through clenched teeth.
I have to hide my surprise, not used to him taking that tone with anyone.
Alexander’s eyes narrow on him. “I’m only going to remind you once where you are right now.”
“We haven’t forgotten,” Dad puts in, jaw ticking.
“Excellent.” Alex looks at me then, a coldness to him that I was expecting. “You’ve made a mess. One that makes us look like shit. I’m not going to beat around the bush with this. You need to make some hard choices here.”
“What are these choices?” I ask.
“I’m assuming you’ve already been filled in on what’s happened, but I would like to recap. Sports Weekly has not only uploaded an article claiming we set up this relationship to cover our asses, but they have audio confirmation that proves them right. Douglas and your father have told me that this audio was collected illegally, but if I’m to be blunt, it doesn’t change anything.
