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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THERE’S MORE

PENN

It’s been a damn good few days. The win last week was huge—clutch catch, game-sealing touchdown—the kind of play I dream about.

My phone’s been blowing up with texts, media coverage, even a few new endorsement inquiries.

But none of it touches the high of coming home and finding Sam curled up on the couch with Addy, the two of them trying to decide between a Spider-Man movie or one of the Jurassic Park movies.

My life has been full of good plays lately. It’s like…I don’t know…like the universe decided to hand me all the wins at once.

So when Coach calls me into his office after practice, I’m feeling relaxed, despite the tension still between us. I’m a little tired from the workout but still riding that post-win high even days later.

“Take a seat,” Coach says, nodding toward the chair across from his desk.

I sit, expecting a breakdown of my performance or some strategy talk about this week’s game, but he just leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. He has a weird little smile that makes my stomach tighten.

“Been thinking about a few things,” he says, his voice deceptively casual. “The timing of things…with this marriage.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

His smile sharpens. “Yeah. The timing. Sam hanging around the facility. Cute kid. I like the guy.” He shakes his head, looking out his window as if he’s thinking fondly of Sam.

But then his eyes are back on me and they’re not so friendly.

“Addy’s been looking happy too.” His gaze narrows. “Almost too happy.”

My pulse kicks up. “Well…married life has been good. Honeymoon phase and all that,” I say, shrugging like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Inside, I’m flipping the fuck out because what guy talks about the honeymoon phase with his father-in-law?

Shit, shit, shit.

Coach Evans raises an eyebrow. “That’s what I’m wondering about. See, Penn, guys don’t just get married overnight unless there’s a reason. Especially not guys like you.”

My mouth goes dry.

“You’re young. Rich. I’ve been watching you hit the party circuit the past few years and now you expect me to believe you’re signing up for the PTA and school drop-offs?”

“I’m not really a PTA person, no, but drop-offs are?—”

“Want to tell me what game you’re playing at, Penn?

And how you managed to convince my daughter to play it with you?

” He leans in and nudges his index finger into his desk with his next words.

“Because I’ve listened to her talk about a wedding by the water with lots of flowers and how pretty ice sculptures are, and you name it, and you know what wasn’t in the picture at all? ”

I shake my head.

“Eloping with a guy she barely knows.”

A bead of sweat creeps down the back of my neck, nausea making my stomach turn over.

“I’m not playing a game,” I say, but even to my own ears, it sounds weak.

He puts his elbows on his desk. “I’ve loved that girl since before she even entered the world. So I’ll ask again. What are you getting out of this?”

I feel the guilt like a gut punch. Because the truth is—it did start as a game in a way.

Not with Addy’s heart, never that. But with the idea of creating a secure environment for Sam.

Making the foster board happy. Bucking the system.

Giving Sam a stable home so they would stop throwing up roadblocks for us at every turn.

But now…

It’s not that simple.

I clear my throat. “I’m in this. Addy and I are in this together. And yes, Sam is part of the equation, but it’s not all about him.”

He watches me closely, and it’s like he can see right through me.

I swallow hard. Married life has been pretty fucking great.

Coming home to Addy. Waking up next to her.

Finding Sam at the table with bedhead. Talking about his homework.

All of it…it’s been so much better than I imagined it could be.

But how do I even begin expressing that when I don’t know how to define it myself yet?

It’s silent for a few moments as he studies me. Then he leans back in his chair. “I’m watching you, Penn. And if you hurt her…” His jaw tightens. “I will hunt you down and make your life a living hell.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “I never want to hurt Addy, I promise you that.”

He kind of snorts like he doesn’t believe me but nods. “Get outta here.”

I stand, muscles tight as I head for the door. My heart’s still hammering, but it eases up when I step into the hallway and take a deep breath.

That feeling doesn’t last long.

When I get home, Sam is waiting by the window. His face is pale, his arms wrapped tight around his knees. He looks up when I walk in.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, walking over.

Addy walks in with a tray of celery covered with peanut butter and raisins and I give her a quick kiss after she sets it in front of Sam. Her eyes are sad too.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Sam’s jaw clenches. “It’s Winnie.”

My stomach drops. Winnie is one of the little girls who lived in his foster home. “What happened?”

“She was hurt. I didn’t see her, but I heard she had a black eye like I had and that she fell down the stairs…

” His chin wobbles and he wipes his nose on his shirt.

“She’s five, but she’s not clumsy. I don’t think she fell at all.

Penn…I think she’s still in that house. Why would they leave her there when they know what’s happened with me? ”

My whole body stiffens. “No. No way. That can’t be right.”

Fuck.

I pull out my phone and dial Mrs. Murphy’s number. It rings four times before she answers.

“Hello, Penn.”

“Why the hell is Winnie still in that house?” I bark.

She sighs. “Penn?—”

“No. Don’t start with me. You told me you’d keep an eye on things. Every child should’ve been moved from that house the second Sam got hurt. And now, that little girl is hurt.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Sam heard it today at school. And it’s really sad that he would be privy to that information before you are.”

“There’s a process?—”

“Fuck the process!” I yell. “Get her out of there. Immediately. Every child in that house better be out. They can come here if there aren’t enough places for them to go. I’ll make calls, pull strings, whatever I have to do, but goddammit, you need to make this right, Mrs. Murphy!”

She exhales. “Yes, yes. I will.”

“You’d better,” I say as I hang up.

When I’m off, I call David and Sutton and then stalk the floor, still raging. Until I realize Sam is still curled up on the couch, his whole body tense. I sit down and pull him into my arms.

“I’m sorry. I need to calm down. I just want to fix this and I will.” I press my chin to the top of his head. “I promise.”

He clings to me, his voice breaking again. “Okay.”

For the first time in days, I don’t feel like I’m winning anymore.

The phone rings an hour later. Mrs. Murphy. I put her on speakerphone.

“Did you mean what you said about taking in Winnie?” she asks.

I glance at Addy and she nods.

“Absolutely,” I say.

“I will be bringing her in about two hours. She’s being evaluated by the doctor now. It looks like she’s bruised up and has a black eye, but there are no broken bones. If you’re agreeable to this, I’d like her to stay with you for a few days until I can find a new placement.”

“She can stay here indefinitely, as long as she needs,” I say.

Sam sniffles and hugs me again.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Winnie is a five-year-old little girl with wild blonde curls and the biggest green eyes.

When she looks up at me, her fingers nervously clutching a ratty blanket, my heart tumbles over itself. That pang of expansion that I’m only now learning to recognize. Who knew a heart could keep filling up with more people to love?

Addy and these kids are going to sink my heart until all that’s left is goo.

I surrender.