Page 52

52

BEN

“I don’t care.”

My lawyer scowls at me. “He refused the mill you offered and put a counteroffer in—5 mill and the Spartans. Start caring.”

A laugh full of disbelief and outright irritation bellows from my throat. I know I should care, but I can’t bring myself to give a damn. I know it’s impossible for him to take the team from me—the team of lawyers that work for me have already confirmed that—but it’s absurd he’d even ask for it. The bastard assaulted my Little One, and now has the audacity to think he has the upper hand.

“Sort it then. It’s what I pay you for, after all.” I spit the words at my lawyer, who blows a breath of air out of his mouth, throws his hands up in despair, and storms from my office.

Brooks refused to press charges with the police, which probably would’ve been easier to deal with. Instead, he’s delighting in having the opportunity to sue my arse, and I can’t bring myself to give a fuck. My lawyer can handle it all, because I just don’t care. I won’t be going to prison, and I won’t be giving him the team or five million dollars either. I only offered the one mill to get him to go away quickly and quietly. I was justified in dishing out everything he got. And my lawyers are better than his, anyway.

Dragging my hands through my hair, I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out how the fuck I got here and why. And there’s only one word to explain it.

Penelope.

It’s been over a week and I haven’t heard a single word from her. At this point, I’d even welcome being served papers from her for breaking the NDA, but I’ve had nothing.

There’s no point in reaching out to her, I know she’ll ignore me. She hates me again. Hank’s tried to talk to me, but I keep shutting him out. I don’t want his pity. And I know no matter what he says, his loyalty is with his daughter. Just like the rest of the Bradys. As it should be.

I’ve left all the group chats, ignored the messages from Jameson and Jenson. Left them unopened on my phone. I don’t want them to feel like they have to choose. She needs them more than I do. I’m just grateful they showed me what it was like to be part of a family like theirs, no matter how short the experience was.

BANG!

I jump from my chair at the loud noise, banging my knee on my desk as I do, and curse loudly. “Motherfucking fuck!”

Jenson’s deep laugh fills my office.

I scowl at him, not the least bit amused. “What are you doing here? You should be at training.”

“The season’s over, Boss. Or did you forget how badly we sucked this year? No playoffs for us, so we’re officially on break and you know it.” He folds his arms over his chest and stands in the doorway.

“Yeah, I know it. So what d’you want? Come to beat me up for upsetting your sister?”

I limp back to my seat and slump down into it. I know I look a mess. My suit is rumpled, hair probably looks like it's gone through rounds of tugging—which it has—and I haven’t slept properly since before the gala.

“No, you idiot. I came to see my brother because he isn’t answering any of our texts. Mama’s not happy with either of you.”

He finally moves out of the doorframe, circles around my desk, and drops into the sofa behind me. Reaching over to spin my chair so I’m facing him, he hits me with a look that screams ‘talk.’

“What?”

“Tell me what happened. Tell me why you haven’t stormed over to Buttercup’s house and told her to snap out of it. Do you not want her?” He leans forward, his elbows on his thighs, and returns my scowl.

“You’re a fucking idiot. I love her, but she doesn’t love me. I told her on Christmas, after she reamed my arse for trying to save her in front of you all. And do you know what she said? Nothing.”

He sits back, a frown still on his face, but the dam’s broken now and he’s about to get the full flood of my frustration and anger.

“You know I told her about my mum? How she was a fucking golddigger who ruined my dad. Told her that was why I didn’t want a conventional relationship with anyone. But she broke down all my fucking defences, Jen. She made me want her.

“What Mama and Pops have. You and Angie, Jameson and Jonathan—I wanted that. I wanted to be your Pops. In years to come, I wanted to look at Penelope with the same love in my eyes that he has for Mama.

“But look at me now. Being sued for the team I’ve worked my arse off for because I couldn’t keep my temper in check.”

His scowl gets deeper, and I take a deep breath before continuing. “And when I get her lawsuit for breaking the NDA I signed—and I’d deserve it—I’ll be penniless.

“I threw everything away for a chance at love. Because she had this hold on me. And you know what, Jen?” I let my gaze meet his and half grimace, half smile. “I still love her. Still want her. How fucking pathetic is that?”

He blows out a breath and I let my gaze drop to the floor between us. I wasn’t prepared to pour my heart out, but here we are.

“I’m fucking broken, Jen. And I have no idea how to fix it this time. I can’t fucking win.” I stop trying to hold the emotions back and let the tears flow. I haven’t cried since I was a kid.

Jenson grabs my arm, dragging me into a standing position, and wraps his arms around me. “Real fucking men cry, dude. Let it out. You’re safe with me. I’m gonna fix this. Bradys help each other out, and I’ll fix it all. I promise.”