Page 50

DAMON

I sit next to our gate in Departures, waiting to get on a plane back to Ann Arbor, wondering for the millionth time if Avery’s okay.

She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts, which I’m taking as a bad sign.

The only reason I even know she landed safely yesterday afternoon is thanks to Chris and Jace.

“You good, bro?” Chris asks, slapping a hand over my shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s all good,” I say, wishing I believed it. I don’t blame Avery for being pissed, but to ignore all of my calls?

I shake my head as I continue scrolling on my phone, trying to occupy my mind and waste time until we board.

I need to stop overthinking everything and relax. I can apologize for what I said when I get back. We can talk this out. Everything will be fine.

But no sooner than the thought crosses my mind do I come across a headline on Instagram from an entertainment news site.

Straightening in my chair, my eyes widen as I click the link and begin to read: Breaking News?Hotelier Reginald Astor questioned for Involvement in the Astor Walkway Collapse. Is An Arrest coming?

A gasp dies in my throat as I click on a video and Reginald Astor’s face fills the screen—him being shoved aside, face ashen, as investigators descend on his house like bees in a hive—while a reporter talks in the background.

“Authorities are searching Reginald Astor’s home, the CEO of the Astor Hotel Group, in connection with the Astor walkway collapse that claimed six lives nearly three years ago.

Sources expect an arrest as early as this week. ”

“Holy. Shit.” The words drop from my mouth like stones.

“What’s going on?” Jace asks, peeling a headphone from his ear as he glances up at me.

I shake my head, dazed. I’d be the first to say Reginald Astor deserves to pay for his crimes.

His greed and selfishness went too far, and people were hurt.

But I know firsthand how this will affect more than just his own life, and I hate how his actions have the power to destroy his family—his wife, little Katie.

Avery.

“Nothing,” I say as the breath stalls in my lungs, unable to believe my ears or eyes.

This is exactly what Avery was afraid would happen.

My parents weren’t just worried your father knew the truth. He was blackmailing them.

I need to call my dad.

Turning, I head for the bathroom as the guys call out, wanting to know where the hell I’m going so close to boarding. Ignoring them, I push into a family restroom, checking to ensure I’m alone before bolting the door shut.

With shaking hands, I dial my father’s number, relieved when he picks up on the third ring. “Did you see the news?” I ask, without wasting any time.

“About Reginald Astor?”

Is it my imagination, or does he sound happy?

“Yeah.”

“Sure did. Doesn’t surprise me any. Bastard’s getting what he deserves, if you ask me.” His voice is cold, uncaring.

My heart hammers against my ribs. All I can think about is Avery’s face when she sees the news. Her worst fear has been realized, broadcast on national television for everyone to see.

I need to ask my father about his involvement. I need to see if he knew Reginald Astor was guilty. I need the truth.

But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. I can’t seem to find the words.

“Maybe I was right, son,” my father says in the answering silence. “Maybe it’s time you distance yourself from that girl, once and for all.”

I freeze, heart lodging in my throat as I choke out a pained, “What?”

“Maybe you should take this time apart and really think this through.” He sighs over the line, like saying it pains him.

“Son, this is going to get messy. We’re talking about the Astor empire.

Every news station across the country will be covering this story.

Now is not the time to get yourself tangled up in this mess. ”

I narrow my eyes as something cold slides down my spine. “What exactly are you saying?” I ask, my voice dropping low. “Because it sounds like you’re suggesting I abandon Avery when she needs me most.”

“What about what you need? You’re looking at this all wrong. You need to consider the implications of this and how it will look if you support her through this.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious,” he says, and I wish I could see him?wish I could read the truth in his eyes as he talks to me. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. Your entire future is right in front of you. You don’t want to throw it away by tying yourself to a family that’s about to become poison.”

I blink, gripping my phone harder. “She’s my girlfriend, not a PR problem.”

“She’s an Astor!” he snaps. “Think about what that means for your career. Teams are already watching everything you do. You think they want their potential first-round pick mixed up with the daughter of a man who killed six people?”

“It’s funny that you’re jumping to conclusions when he hasn’t even been arrested yet,” I say, though the defense feels hollow. Avery herself said he’s guilty.

“Do you know who Colby Williams’s daughter is?”

I swallow, wondering what the hell he’s talking about. “The NFL commissioner?”

“Angel Hall is his daughter. She was one of the six killed in the walkway collapse. Do you think he’s going to let a young man dating the daughter of the man responsible for his own daughter’s death anywhere near the NFL?”

A hiss of air escapes my lungs as I’m smacked in the face with the truth, a truth I hadn’t wanted to believe.

I stumble back, stunned, my voice a whisper as I say, “She was right.”

“Who?”

“Avery.” I swallow, stomach lurching as I fear I might be sick. “She said you were the one blackmailing her father. That you were the reason they forced her to break up with me. They said that you’d go to the media if she didn’t stay away from me, and I didn’t believe her. But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“ No !” I can hear the fear in his voice, the denial in his voice as he says, “I didn’t go to the media. I didn’t do this.”

But he hasn’t denied that he blackmailed Avery’s parents.

“How could you do this?” I ask, refusing to let him off the hook. “Blackmail is a crime, Dad. Not to mention how badly you hurt me.”

“Why don’t we talk about this in person? Once you’re back at school.”

“No,” I say, my tone hard. “We’ll talk about it now.”

“Look, you might not agree with my choices, but I did what was best for you. What I knew you couldn’t.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I spit, wishing I could reach through the phone and strangle him. “I want the truth, Dad. Now. Or I swear to God, I’ll never forgive you.”

A beat of silence falls over the line, before I hear him exhale a shaky breath.

“You never would’ve broken up with her,” he says, his voice unsteady.

“If this news came out, you would’ve stayed with her, supported her and get her through it, like a dutiful dog at her side.

So, when the investigation came back clean, I kept the evidence I had and forced Astor’s hand.

I knew eventually his skeletons would come falling out of the closet, and if he’s done one fucked-up thing to hurt people, chances are he’s done more.

I couldn’t let you risk everything you’ve worked your ass off for.

I couldn’t let you miss out on college football and a future in the NFL just because you’re strung up on some girl.

Not with your talent. Not with your drive and dedication. ”

I stumble back, shocked by what I’m hearing.

Reaching out, I grip the sink with my free hand, willing myself to breathe, to come to terms with what he’s saying. “Who are you?”

I run a hand over my neck, sick to my stomach as the hand gripping my phone clenches so hard my knuckles ache.

“I’m the same man I always was. Your father. Your biggest supporter. None of that’s changed, and if you’d just consider what I’m saying, I think you’d see I have a point.”

I choke out a laugh. “I feel like I don’t even fucking know you.” The words tear from my throat, raw and vicious and true. “You had no right to make that decision for me. None.”

“Damon—”

“No!” I slam my fist into the bathroom wall, and the drywall crushes and cracks on impact. “Two and a half years,” I mutter, turning back to him, the words like acid on my tongue. “Two and a half years of my life wasted, thinking she didn’t want me, while you sat back and watched me suffer.”

“I was protecting your future.”

“It wasn’t your future to protect!” I roar, glad for the first time we’re having this conversation over the phone, for fear of what I might do if I were standing in front of him. “It wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine !”

“You were too young to see the bigger picture.”

“The bigger picture?” I laugh, the sound hollow and bitter.

“Let me tell you about the bigger picture, Dad. Avery meant more to me than football ever did. More than any draft or any damn Super Bowl ring. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

Because Mom left and ever since you’ve been a bitter asshole. ”

“I’m telling you now,” he says, his voice low and ominous, “if you stay with her through this, you’re throwing away everything we’ve worked for.”

“No.” I shake my head, done with this conversation.

“What we worked for was my dream, not yours. And you’ve just shown me you never understood what that dream was really about because it won’t mean shit if I’m playing for the Patriots, or any other NFL team for that matter, if I’m doing it alone. If it’s not with her.”

“That’s bullshit. You’ve done a fine job the last two and a half years,” he spits out.

“Yeah, and I was fucking miserable for most of it. The only time I was even remotely happy was on the field. But that’s not enough for me.

I don’t want to be happy only when I’m playing, because what happens one day when fame and football fade away and my career ends?

” I lower my voice, wishing like hell he got it. “Football doesn’t last forever.”

“And you think love does?” he chokes out.

“Yeah, I do.”

I yank open the door to the bathroom and step out, my finger hovering over the end button when he blurts out, “I wasn’t really going to turn him in. I was bluffing.”

The emotion in his voice gives me pause.

“I like Avery,” he continues, “always have, despite how it might seem. She’s different than him . . . better. It was just a threat, one I’d hoped would keep you safe.”

I hold my breath, wanting to believe him. “Does it even matter?”

What’s done is done, and I’m so pissed at him, I can’t see straight.

“Intention matters.”

I clench my jaw until my teeth ache. I forgave Avery for breaking my heart because her intentions were in the right place. Could I do the same for him?

“I love her, Dad,” I say, my voice tight. “I always have. And I’ll choose her every time.”

I hang up without waiting for a response, needing to speak with Avery, needing to hear with my own ears that she’s okay.

My fingers shake as I dial her number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Fuck.” I try again with the same result, then head to the area where my friends and teammates wait to board with only one thing on my mind.

I need to get to Avery.