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A warm feeling washes over me, and my admiration for Aiden grows by the second. He was put in a tough situation and did what he thought was best. Now, the underprivileged of Georgia are reaping the benefits. While he may have gone about things in the wrong way, his heart was in the right place, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.
Roger clears his throat, “How many times did the O’Sullivans approach you last year, Aiden?”
“Four in total. Why?”
I see where Roger is going with this and jump in. “How many of those games resulted in losses?”
Aiden ponders my question for a minute before the implication dawns on him. “All four of them and each by a one-point spread. But that isn’t uncommon in hockey. Most wins or losses are by one to two points at most. It has to be a coincidence. I refuse to believe that anyone on my team is compromised.”
I lift one shoulder, “It very well might be a coincidence, Aiden. But it’s a strong enough one that the O’Sullivans could use that against you. If they have any recordings of the conversations, they could easily doctor them and leak them to the press. Your career would be tarnished, and every mistake you have ever made or every missed shot would be scrutinized. Aiden, have you once considered that they are behind the threatening notes? You can’t be in their back pocket if you retire.”
Aiden hangs his head and lets out a long breath. “I did at first, but the letters started after they stopped making demands. I’m more inclined to believe it was Amy since she mentioned sending letters.”
“About that,” Reggie interjects. “I spoke with Marcus today regarding any fan mail you might have received from Amy Smith or Amy Potslawski. You were right; it’s the ‘Amy Smith’ persona who is fixated on you. Each of her letters begged for a chance to meet you and professed her undying love, but they didn’t contain any threatening remarks. That’s why Marcus simply discarded them along with countless others instead of bringing it to our attention. Apparently, you get letters like that all the time from women all over the country.”
Aiden lifts his head and faces his dad, “Did Amy accept our offer?”
Reggie smiles, “She did.”
“What offer?” I ask.
Aiden explains what he asked his dad to do for him. He lays out his plan to assist Amy with the help she needs to return to living a normal life.
“That’s sweet, Aiden, and you have such a big heart. At least now I know where Penny gets it from,” I tell him. “However, you still need to stay alert and remain cognizant of your surroundings. Just because Amy agreed to the terms doesn’t mean she’ll abide by them.”
Aiden yawns and stretches, “It’s been a very long day, and Penny will be awake in a few hours. How about we get some sleep and continue this discussion in the morning?” When he stands up, everyone else follows suit and heads to their rooms. I don’t move, and Aiden notices.
Once we’re alone, I say, “Aiden, you’ve been dropping one bomb on us after another, which is making our jobs infinitely more difficult. However, I’m partly to blame. Sean and Conor were at the game that we attended last week, and I should have mentioned it to you. They didn’t approach me, but my gut said they were bad news. I’m sorry.”
Aiden reaches for my hand and sits beside me on the loveseat. “You sent David and Jeremy to protect me because of your gut. Things happened so fast after that. It’s understandable.”
“They did, but that’s no excuse for my failure to communicate. Now that I know who they are, it makes more sense why someone would take a shot at you. I should have put two and two together.
“Ethan used some of his connections and has garnered some new information regarding the shooting that you might find interesting. Based on the trajectory of the bullet that was fired, it wouldn’t have hit anyone if David hadn’t tackled you to the ground. David inadvertently put you in harm’s way, unaware that the shot taken was most likely meant to be a warning.”
Aiden continues to hold my hand, but his grip tightens ever so slightly. “David did what he was hired to do. I don’t blame him at all, and I don’t blame you either, Anna. Your actions saved my life. We still have much to discuss, but let’s save it for later and get some rest.”
I pull his hand gently when he gets up to leave. “What else is there to discuss? What are you keeping from us, Aiden?”
He lets go of my hand and points to the tabloid on the coffee table that Sean O’Sullivan handed to me in the supermarket. “It’s not just me who’s keeping secrets, Anna.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told the O’Sullivans. You can’t believe everything you read. Every story has two sides, and I guarantee that whoever wrote that article never got mine. You should be more concerned with who leaked the information about our engagement. Outside of your friends and Patricia, no one should have known so soon.”
Aiden squeezes my hand gently and pulls me to my feet. “I agree. I’d love to hear your side of the story if you’re willing to share it with me. And based on the article, whoever leaked the information clearly has a vendetta against you. My best guess is that it’s Patricia.”
“Can I trust you, Aiden? I promise that what you’ll hear isn’t pleasant, and it isn’t just about me. I’ve only shared my story with one other person, and it took me three years before I could do that. As you can see, I don’t trust easily.”
Aiden presses his lips to mine, whispering softly against them, “You can trust me, Savannah. You can trust me with your secrets and, hopefully, one day, with your heart.” His use of my given name goes to show how serious he is about seeing me—the real me.
Aiden continues to kiss me and hold me in his arms, for once making me feel like I am the protected rather than the protector. I savor the feeling and commit it to memory because once Aiden hears my tale, I doubt he’ll ever want to hold me like this again.
Chapter twenty-five
Aiden
** Trigger Warning: This chapter contains a discussion on child neglect and emotional abuse after the scene break
The sound of my daughter giggling is what finally gets me out of bed, that, and the prospect of learning more about Anna. It’s almost noon by the time I wake up, and my stomach rumbles in protest.
