Page 43 of Mad Rivals (The Bradley Legacy #1)

Bigger Issues

The check-in with SCS goes well, and we’re on our way back to California by Monday evening.

She’s flying with me to San Diego to stay the night with me before she heads into work tomorrow morning, and I have plans to work out with the other wide receivers this week.

On top of that, Newman is accepting bids on their expansion this Thursday, so I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.

She stopped in at her office but otherwise avoided her parents, and for now, that’s likely for the best. I’m not sure my father will keep our secret under wraps, but if he wants me to keep his secrets, he’d be wise to keep his goddamn mouth shut until we’re ready.

Maybe he thinks we broke up because of him.

Or maybe he never gave it a second thought. And honestly…I don’t really care.

I haven’t told her I know she’s bidding on the same project, and I can’t decide whether that’s a mistake or the right thing to do.

I didn’t see any of her plans, and I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to be honest about it.

But at this point, so much time has passed and so many things have happened between us that it might be more out of left field to say something now than to just let it be .

It’s not like it gives me any advantages knowing she’s bidding on the same project as me.

Part of me wants to see her win it…but the other part of me, the competitor that lives inside me, wants it for Bradley Group.

It’s in these moments that I realize maybe I always have wanted the company…but I just wanted it on my own terms rather than on my father’s.

It’s sort of entertaining, even, to focus on these projects knowing who one of my competitors is so intimately well.

And not for the first time, I wonder how we can combine resources to really rock both this town and Chicago—and Vegas, New York, and wherever the hell else we want to bring our business.

And that is the sort of thinking that actually has me excited for the future.

But then I remember the discovery we made this weekend, and my father’s shady shenanigans, and his words that hurt Kennedy.

It feels like she trusts me, and when it’s just the two of us, everything feels good and right.

But it won’t be just the two of us forever. It’d be so much simpler if it was.

Now we have even bigger issues to deal with. The illegal, underground casinos, the secrets and lies we uncovered…and now the questions. What else is out there I don’t know about?

Will she keep my family’s secret? Worse, what will my father do if she doesn’t?

I’ve never seen my father in a vulnerable position. Ever. And it makes sense if he started this operation back before I was even born. He sustained his injury, healed as well as he could, and started down this road long before I was ever even a gleam in his eye.

It still begs the question about how much of my life he’s orchestrated, though.

Did he pay off colleges to accept me or my brothers?

Did he have the right influences to ensure those of us who had basic talents in football were developed in a way to get us to the pro level?

Furthermore, did he have connections there that gave us options that others would never have had?

At thirty-five, though, does any of it even matter at this point? I like to think I’m a strong man who’s made his own decisions over the course of his life, but these secrets have me questioning all of it.

And for the first time, I’m grateful for this trade to San Diego. I’m grateful I don’t have to stay in Chicago in close proximity to my father and his secrets.

Dex is lucky, too, playing football in Vegas, and Ford in Tampa Bay and Liam in Pittsburgh. Archer is lucky to be playing baseball for the Vegas Heat. My sisters, though…Everleigh and Ivy are out of luck in Chicago, close to home.

I should warn them. They’re my little sisters, after all.

But this thing with the casinos…it feels like a secret I need to take to my grave. If our father wanted us to know, he would’ve told us. I wonder if my mother knows about them. I assume she does. She certainly spends the money from them on whatever whim befalls her at any given moment.

“You’re quiet,” Kennedy says beside me. We’re up in first class, and the plane is going to touch down soon. She reaches for my hand, and she threads her fingers through mine and sort of plays with our hands together as we talk.

“Lost in thought,” I mutter.

“About?”

I clear my throat and glance around. “Saturday morning’s discovery.”

“What about it?”

I lift a shoulder. “I was just wondering if my mother knows.” I keep my voice low. “Or any of my siblings.”

“Did you ask your dad that?”

I shake my head.

“You never said what you two talked about after he asked me to leave.” It’s a clear prompt for me to share, but I’m not comfortable discussing this at all, least of all on an airplane, to be honest.

I shake my head a little. “He told me a bit about why he got into it, but that was as far as we got. He asked if I can ensure your silence.” I say the last part a little meaningfully, hoping she’ll catch the point that I don’t want to be talking about this.

“I won’t tell anyone anything. Why’d he get into it?”

“Let’s talk about it later,” I suggest.

She nods, and she pulls her hand from mine. It feels a little symbolic, and I’m sure I don’t like it.

When we walk through my front door, I’m expecting to feel relaxed. We’re back in California now. This is our safe haven.

Only…it doesn’t feel that way at all.

“Can we talk about it now?” she asks.

I blow out a breath. “Can we just…I don’t know. Not talk about it?” I walk over and take her in my arms as I do my best to sound apologetic. “I just don’t want to ruin our safe space here with talk about my father.”

She looks disappointed, and I hate that he’s coming between us. I blow out a breath and relent, but I let go of her first.

“He got his ass kicked when he was a senior in college for unpaid debts, and long story short, he decided he’d never be the one getting his ass beat again.”

Her eyes are wide. “What does that mean?”

I run my hand through my hair. “I don’t really know.

That’s about as much as he told me, and I don’t really want to think about what it means.

” I turn away from her and walk over toward the window where I can look out at my view and don’t have to stare at her prying eyes as I admit some pretty fucking hard truths.

“He kept going on about everything he’s done for this family, and I don’t know what he meant by that, either.

My entire life and those of my siblings may have been orchestrated by him, and maybe I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore.

And most importantly, I still don’t fucking know if he was ever planning to tell me about his money laundering schemes or if I was going to take over the company and be on the hook for his sins. ”

That’s the brunt of it, and the problem is that while I was never particularly close with my father, the last two days have told me that I actually never knew anything about him at all.

I don’t know what I expect her to say to all of that. Nothing, maybe. I don’t think I’d be surprised if she just walked out. How can she love me when I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore?

Instead of responding to my ramblings, she doesn’t say anything at all. I spot some movement in the window beside me, and then I feel her fingertips on my shoulder.

“None of it matters, Madden.” She reaches around me and hugs me from behind, and then her hand moves to rest on my chest. “I’ve gotten to know who you are in here, and that’s all that matters to me.”

I set my hand over hers as I feel a bit of the anxiety that I didn’t realize I was carrying for the last two days melt away.

She’s here. Despite everything, she’s not going anywhere.

And, for now, anyway, that’s all I need.