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Terror claims his face for a second. “Umm… no, don’t tell him yet. You know Oakley is going to grill you like she’s the attorney. When? How? Where? Was he wearing a suit? Did he get down on one knee? There’s no way we can get away with telling anyone until…” He pulls me between his legs. “Until I do it properly. One so clean, even Mamaw can watch.”

I love how he thinks about Mamaw all the time too. She was the best, and every one of our friends loved her as their own.

“Take this back for now, but you better not change your mind and pawn it.” I smirk.

“Deal.” And we seal it with a kiss.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

John

Back in Dallas, the commissioner arranged to have an undercover agent meet me at the gym. He looks like a trainer and fits in perfectly. He gives me three small recording devices. One for the suit I’ll wear to the game; it’s flat, thinner than a credit card, hidden in the pocket square. The other two look like tape. One I stick on my shoulder pad, just under my jersey and the other on my hockey stick. So, there’s no way I can warn him about it first. My phone is being monitored and probably other places just to make sure I’m not involved in the money laundering scheme. Or whatever it is.

Before I take my pre-game nap, I call Corbin and ask for permission to ask his sister to marry me. Of course, he asks about the article, and the normally quiet guy, like Becca, gives me an earful about hurting his sister and how this is my last chance. If I fuck it up this time, we’re no longer friends.

I ask for a favor and by the time I wake from a half-hour energy nap, there’s a message waiting on my phone.

Corbin: Got the ball rolling.

Me: You’re the best.

Becca and I decide to keep her pregnancy to ourselves for a little while longer. At least until we see the heartbeat next week. Becca has arranged our doctor appointment during the Rattlers series with the Notes, so I can be there.

Yesterday, we talked about alternate careers and how it would work with the baby. Becca seemed low and not connecting with her job. She realizes that she’s not real friends with her colleagues. They have lunches and dinner, but it’s all about work and the occasional gossiping about a co-worker or client. With the baby coming, she doesn’t want to work more than she sees me or the baby.

She’ll quit the Fireflies Dance Team since she’s pregnant. I said to her, “You can dance for me anytime.” She gave me a playful smack on the arm. “Seriously, you may be changing shape, and our life may be too, but we’ll find a balance that makes us all happy.”

Becca absolutely loves competition and being active. It was obvious from our vacation that she thrives on it. She was so full of joy when we were doing stunts and playing volleyball on the beach.

When I arrive at the arena, my dad is waiting for me. Why the Rattlers give him unfettered access is dumbfounding. He didn’t play for the Rattlers, ever.

As I walk toward him, panic cuts through my nerves. What if he finds out I’m wearing a wire? If he does, there’s no limits on what he’ll do. I swallow my fears because this is my life, not his. I’ve only talked to him a few times since vacation and when the gossip about me started.

“Son, glad to see you’re taking hockey seriously. We need to talk.” He sounds relaxed.

Mr. Cross and the FBI have instructed me not to provoke him at first. We’re going to see if I can catch him with honey instead of vinegar. But if I need to piss him off, I come complete with an arsenal of ways to do so.

He draws me into a cool hug without any feeling and slaps my back.

“Dad. Thanks for coming. I feel better if you’re around. My teammates aren’t happy with me. I tried to tell them that I didn’t bet against us. I bet for someone else. Of course, they don’t believe me because when they pressed me on who I made the bet for, I kept my mouth shut like you told me.”

“Deny. Deny. Deny.”

Deny, defend, and make counter accusations is my father’s motto. It’s not possible to count how many times he has said that in my lifetime.

“I did. But are you in good standing with the people who were going to hurt you if I didn’t cooperate? Because we may have our issues, but I know you love me, and I love you.” I wrap a saccharine smile on my face.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “You’ve never asked me point blank.” He hesitates, then pats me down, probably considering the odds of me betraying him.

I lean into him, whispering to make it appear that I’m keeping this between us. “Because I’m worried about what you’re caught up in and what I need to do to protect both of us. I don’t know why, but I still love you even after you slept with Stella while she was my girlfriend,” I say with such concern, there’s no way he could suspect that I’m trying to trap him. And I don’t love him anymore. That’s awful to think about, but how could I after he obviously planted the story,

John Basilio gets dragged into the commissioner’s office on game day.

“Just do your job, son. The league isn’t going to take you down. Not after that pink hair tribute a few months back. He grabs my suit coat by the lapel and says, “Just keep your mouth shut, and they can’t do a thing to you or me.”

“Maybe not the league or the cops, but what about thepeople blackmailing you or threatening you?” I ask as he keeps me close.

His eyes narrow, giving me a look that’s half-suspicious when he finally whispers through gritted teeth, “You don’t know the whole story, John.” He glances around even though we haven’t encountered a single person.