Page 30

Thirty

Colt

The driveway was immaculate, like everything else in their world — except their fucking priorities. Her father thought money gave him the right to dictate her life, and the arrogance of it all made my pulse quicken.

I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, my jaw locking. I already knew what this visit would entail. Her father had made sure of that when he forced her to go on a date with some preppy asshole he had probably handpicked. He couldn’t care less that she was dating me already, that we were together.

My chest burned with a kind of rage I wasn’t used to outside the gridiron. It wasn’t loud or flashy, but it was constant — simmering just below the surface. I had said little on our drive here, but the look on her face, the way her hand clung to me like I was the only thing keeping her upright, made it hard to stay quiet .

“Relax,” I said, though my voice came out tighter than I wanted. “We’ll figure this out.”

“We?” she whispered, her voice strained. “Colt, you don’t understand, he’s not going to stop. He’ll do whatever it takes to break us up.”

I said nothing. What was there to say? I knew how her father worked. The man didn’t see people, only assets to control, and apparently, I didn’t make the cut for whatever vision he had for Hailey’s life.

I pulled the truck to a stop and turned off the engine. Her parents were waiting at the door, stiff and proper, as if posing for a fucking magazine.

As we walked toward the house, I didn’t let go of her hand. She was nervous; I could feel it in the way her fingers twitched against mine, but I kept my eyes on Mr. Brentwood.

He wasn’t smiling. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there with the same look I remembered from before: cold, dismissive, and full of judgment.

That was fine. I didn’t need him to approve, but to force Hailey into that date when he knew full well what we had? That was a line he shouldn’t have crossed.

We exchanged pleasantries in a perfunctory, somewhat detached manner, with a veneer of warmth that might as well have been absent. This was the attitude I’d anticipated from her father, but her mother surprised me. I had a warmer, friendlier memory of her, but she readily followed her husband’s lead.

I remained silent, watching Mr. Brentwood closely. My jaw ached with tension, but I had donned my usual tried-and-true mask. For the time being, I would play it cool. If he wanted a fight, I wouldn’t back down .

Not when it came to Hailey.

The lunch was painful — Hailey’s stilted conversation, her mother’s breezy ignorance, and her father’s thinly veiled disdain.

“So, Colt,” Mr. Brentwood began, swirling his wine as if he were sitting in a boardroom instead of his own dining room. “How’s football treating you these days? Must be exhausting, chasing a ball around for hours. Reminds me of when my dog was younger.”

I bit back the immediate urge to say something snide and leaned back in my chair, keeping my tone neutral. “It’s going well, sir. Busy season, but I’m used to it.”

“Of course, of course.” His smile was razor thin. “I’m sure all that ‘hard work’ will pay off soon. It must be nice to know you have a fallback with the family business if this … football thing doesn’t work out.”

Hailey stiffened beside me, gripping her fork tightly, but I put a steadying hand on her knee under the table. “It’s good to have options,” I stated evenly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But I’m planning to stick with football for a while.”

“Hmm.” He shrugged noncommittally. “Well, I suppose you don’t need much in the way of brains for that.”

“Dad,” Hailey snapped, her voice sharp, but he ignored her and turned his attention back to his plate as if he hadn’t just insulted me.

I swallowed the fire rising in my chest and forced a small smile. “It’s not for everyone,” I said coolly, cutting into my steak. “Takes a lot of discipline and focus. But I’m sure you’ve had your share of challenges too, sir. It must’ve been tough breaking into your industry … late.”

His hand froze mid-cut, and Hailey’s mom chose that moment to interject with a laugh. “Oh, Colt, you’re just as sharp as your mother said! Hailey, you didn’t mention he was quick-witted!”

Hailey didn’t say a word, her gaze flicking nervously between her father and me. I gave her a reassuring squeeze under the table. Let him stew.

“Colt, a word in my office?” Mr. Brentwood was casual, but there was no mistaking the underlying command. Oh, so this is how it’s going to go . A seemingly innocent request I was expected to comply with.

Hailey’s wide, panicked eyes met mine, but I pushed my chair back, placed my napkin on the table with the pristine white tablecloth, and met his challenging gaze head-on. Bring it on, motherfucker. There was absolutely no one and nothing that would keep me away from her, aside from Hailey herself.

I followed him up a sweeping staircase into an office that oozed pretentiousness — an overly ornate gigantic mahogany desk with a shiny polished surface, a huge leather chair, and an air of staged importance. Everything in the room made it clear that it was all about appearing ostentatious and luxurious.

He sat down in his chair, eyeing me with a casual disdain, and for a moment, I almost thought he wasn’t going to offer me a seat just out of pettiness. His cold brown eyes studied me for a moment, but I assumed he didn’t like the way I towered over him.

“Have a seat, Colt.”

Silently, I complied with his request. People like him usually needed to fill the silence.

He stared at me for a long moment, as if expecting a reaction, but when I said nothing, he leaned back in his chair, scoffed, and tapped his fingers on the armrest.

Tap-tap-tap.

Tap-tap-tap.

“Well, let’s not beat around the bush, boy. You’ve fucked things up for me more than a little. I can’t stand it when that happens.”

“Oh?” I said with a raised eyebrow while surveying him across the ridiculously wide expanse of the table.

“I almost thought I’d have to resort to more severe measures, but then I … how do you say? Oh yeah, something practically fell into my lap that made matters so much easier.”

His smug smile didn’t sit well with me, and my hands gripped the armrests so tightly my knuckles turned white. He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, then slid it across the table toward me. As he gestured to it, an uneasy shiver of foreboding trickled down my spine and settled heavy as a rock in the pit of my stomach. It was the exact same feeling I had on the field just before I was flattened like a pancake on the ground.

“Go ahead. Take a look.”

Reluctantly, I picked up his phone and looked at the screen. A video? I pressed play, and all the color drained from my face.

I’d seen this video before. I’d jerked off to it a few days ago when Hailey was too busy studying. I’d played a significant role in its creation.

With trembling fingers, I paused the clip and fumbled with the phone, which almost slipped out of my hands. What the fuck?! How did Hailey’s father get our sex tape? How the hell was this possible?

The questions shot through my head like bullets, ricocheting around until everything was a confusing flurry. My palms were clammy, and I slammed the device back on the table. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe he hadn’t backed the clip up in a cloud somewhere. This phone would be of no use to me. Although, I was tempted to grab it and just smash it into a million little pieces.

“Where the hell did you get this?” My voice shook with fury.

“Wouldn’t be very smart of me to reveal my sources. Bad business, and who’s to say I won’t need them again? No, it makes absolutely no difference to this conversation how this blemish got into my hands. You see, Colt, I had a plan for Hailey, and it certainly didn’t involve her being savaged by a brute like you. She was supposed to help me close a deal by marrying the son of one of my business partners and cementing the union between our families. I had everything in place, and then you came along and fucked it all up. After being seen with you and … being with you, she was no longer a suitable choice for my partner’s son. You cost me millions. I don’t mind admitting that my business hasn’t been ideal lately, since this conversation is ultimately going to stay between us, right ?” He gave me a condescending smile, stood up, and strode over to a bar cart with several decanters of amber liquid.

Mr. Brentwood gestured to them. “I’d offer you something, but I don’t like to waste resources, and considering you’ve already cost me one of my greatest assets, you’ll forgive me.”

My teeth were grinding so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if one of my molars cracked soon.

“I’m terribly sorry,” I ground out, my eyes narrowing to slits.

He snorted. “ Of course you are. When I heard she was involved with you, I was very irritated at first. Not only do you not fit my image, but your dear father thinks my business is beneath him and flatly refuses to invest. I was this close” — he held his thumb and forefinger close together — “to pulling her out of college because of this grave lapse in judgment. I should never have let her attend in the first place, but what’s done is done. Then I got my hands on this goldmine.”

He looked so pleased with himself, so sure I was at his mercy, it made me want to knock his far-too-white teeth out of his face. Swirling the liquor in his glass, one hand in his pocket, he walked back to his chair like he had all the time in the world.

“You’re disgusting . Aside from the fact that it’s none of your business and we’re consenting adults, Hailey is still your daughter. And you want to what … blackmail me with the release of our sex tape?” My voice was cold and cutting. Inside, I was seething, the rage boiling in my veins alternating with the gut-wrenching disgust swirling in the pit of my stomach.

“Blackmail is such an ugly word,” he said with mock innocence. “Think of it as … an arrangement. Hailey made her bed, now she can sleep in it for all I care and at least be of some use to me. How do you think it would be perceived in the NFL if that disgusting video fell into the wrong hands before the draft?”

I scoffed, trying to mask the panic rising inside me. “You think I care more about the NFL than Hailey? You don’t have a fucking clue. Go ahead, destroy my career. I’d blow it up in an instant to protect her.”

He shrugged, taking a sip of the scotch he poured himself. “Oh, it’s not just your career on the line. I’ve also dug up some … ex tracurriculars. As I understand it, you’ve been more than a little interested in my daughter for some time — not that I wasn’t aware of it. Interested enough to amass a nice little collection of pictures. What would Hailey think of you if she knew you’d been spying on her for years? Some people might call that stalking, Colt. I’m sure that’s what the district attorney would think, you know, your father and I play golf with him.” He let out a sanctimonious little chuckle. “It would be a shame if you were to force me to file stalking charges against you.”

Panic surged through me, eating away at each of my cells like a cancerous growth. Where the fuck did he get all this information? No one knew about that folder, no one except Hunter, who had helped me secure it from prying eyes.

“It’s so easy to dig things up these days once you have access to a cloud,” he replied mockingly to my unspoken question. “Colt, you and I both know that Hailey is way out of your league. How you got her to even entertain the idea that you’re anything other than what you are is beyond me. Do you really think for one second that she would stay with you if she found out how obsessed you are with her? You’re not exactly a catch without this precarious affair, so what would your chances be if she found out about your dirty little photo collection of her?”

Sweat beaded my upper lip, and my stomach felt like a yawning, endless abyss of dread. My mind was overwhelmed by terror, which drove away the anger — he was right . If she ever found out how fucking sick I was when it came to her, she would dump me without hesitation, probably run screaming in the other direction. The fact she even gave me the time of day was a miracle in itself, and I was more than aware of the tightrope I was walking.

I dropped my gaze to my lap. “So, what, you want me to talk to my dad about investing in your business?”

“Colt, Colt, Colt … if only it were that simple,” he said patronizingly. “No, that won’t be enough. I was thinking more along the lines of a share in all your future endeavors. I hear you’re a shoo-in for the draft … just think of me as your agent, unofficially, of course. Like I said, this conversation is best kept between us, don’t you think?”

Completely aghast, I barked out a laugh. What was this guy smoking? He obviously had no idea how much you made as a rookie. I’d have to be a first-round pick, and even with a signing bonus, it wouldn’t come close to the millions he claimed I’d cost him.

Unless … I gave him the whole thing. There was no mention of my trust fund, which was a relief, even if it was strange. He had to know I had more lying there than I would earn right from the start. So why wouldn’t he try to take advantage of that as well?

“Yeah … I guess so,” I said slowly to buy myself some time to think. My mind was in a state of chaos, with old insecurities resurfacing along with the terrible fear of losing the person I loved and …

I sat up, my back suddenly ramrod-straight. The person I loved? It had taken a second for my consciousness to stumble over this statement because my mind had jumped to it so naturally. But now that the thought was there, it was irrefutable, undeniable, and logical.

I loved Hailey. I had been in love with her for years, yes, but being in love with someone from afar and truly loving them, having them in your grasp, and having your love reciprocated, are two different experiences.

This revelation only made me more aware that I had to do everything in my power to protect Hailey, but I needed one thing to do that — time. I had to stall her father without alienating him. I had to make him believe I was caving in to his absurd plan.

Most importantly, Hailey could never know about this conversation. The skeletons that I and her father had in the closet had the potential to not only disintegrate their ties forever — even though he deserved it — but also to obliterate my relationship with Hailey.

Mr. Brentwood clucked his tongue. “C’mon, kid. We don’t have all day, and you already know the only possible answer to this.”

“Okay. You win,” I said in a low voice, hanging my head and slumping my shoulders, trying to look as resigned as possible. He wasn’t the first to underestimate me, and he wouldn’t be the last.

It was too convenient to assume I was a big brute with no intelligence to speak of. He didn’t need to know that my gears were already turning full throttle. I would beat him at his own game, I just had to work out how.

“Knew you’d listen to reason,” he said with a smug smile, then clapped his hands. “Now, it goes without saying, this little arrangement doesn’t leave this room. I want you to head downstairs and play your part. If you don’t tell Hailey, I won’t either.”

Mr. Brentwood leaned back in his chair, his aura distinctly that of a man who had gotten what he wanted. Nodding, I stood, the chair groaning under my weight, and earned a disgusted look from him before he dismissed me with an arrogant wave of his hand.

“Off you go now, boy. I have calls to make.”

As I turned around, my hands balled into tight fists, and my jaw was clenched so hard I might pull a muscle.

Fuck you, you conceited son of a bitch. This isn’t over.

By the time I got back downstairs, I had regained enough composure to put on a semi-pleasant expression and unclench my muscles. Hailey was waiting for me impatiently, her legs crossed and her foot bouncing. As soon as she spotted me, she jumped to her feet and walked toward me quickly. Her arms wrapped around my middle, the warmth of her small body seeping into me and loosening the icy grip that fear had on me a fraction.

Fuck, I just couldn’t lose her. No matter what, I couldn’t let that happen.

“What took you so long?” she asked quietly, even though we seemed to be alone. Her dad had dismissed me and stayed in his office, and her mom had apparently taken off. Lovely.

“Nothing special.” I cleared my throat. It was hard to lie to her; I had to make this as believable as possible. “The usual boyfriend talk, I guess. He was charming , but nothing I couldn’t handle. Don’t worry about it.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Ready to get out of here?”

Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Ready when you are, baby.”

She dragged me out of the damn house after her, which I left with a constricted chest and about a hundred more worries than when I’d walked in.

Before I got in the car, I texted Hunter.

Me: We need to talk. I need your help.