Page 19 of The Playmaker (The Legends of Fire #1)

AVERY

H e wants to date me.

I can't swallow this. It's been two days and I just cannot go there in my mind. This is Jax Carter, playboy off the NFL field, drop-dead gorgeous—yeah, that guy.

Memories of Dad just up and leaving when I was a kid haunt me still. For the first time in a long time, I wonder where my father is. Even when I lost Mom, I never reached out to him, never let him know about the funeral.

Last week, I saw a man at a coffee shop who looked just like him.

Same salt-and-pepper hair, same tall frame, same slight limp from that old college football injury he used to complain about.

It wasn't him—I got close enough to be sure of that—but it stirred something in me.

What if Dad had reasons I never understood?

What if, like Jax, he was protecting something or someone in his own misguided way?

I don't feel sad. I feel…okay. I'm okay not having a dad. Aren't I?

The monitor in the NY Sports Magazine's conference room is lit up with gorgeous story board images for the YouTube series.

Ann is beaming at both the screen and me, in equal measure.

She's happy with my work, even if the part about Jax's past is a little shallow.

Juan gives me a thumbs-up as if he's the proud father of my work.

Then, everything changes. Ann's phone buzzes and she takes the call. Two seconds later her eyes are locked onto me, bright in that way only hard-nosed journalists have. She has a scoop! I can feel it.

I sit up, eager to hear it as she says "uh huh" and "I have just the journalist for a piece like this" and then she ends the call, hands on the table, bending toward me gleefully.

"Jaxon Carter has a secret little sister!" she punctuates each word as if I need help in understanding her.

My high turns into a low, panic setting in. Who told someone about this? How did this leak? Was it me? No, I didn't even tell Pen! Then, I remember my online journal – was I hacked? This is red alert territory.

"Whoa—that sounds speculative," I say weakly, my heart hammering against my ribs.

That puts a damper on her for a moment. "True. That's why I need you to dig. And fast. Someone leaked an audio file of Jax admitting he has a sister. It's hard to hear, but it sounds like his voice."

Okay, so it wasn't my journal. I almost break my neck leaning in to Ann's phone as she plays a three-second clip:

"…she wants to go to ballet school in London. My kid sister, sixteen going on thirty. Wanting to travel and…"

Jax's voice sounds muffled. My heart feels shattered for him. It's so painfully obvious that he is doing everything to protect Riley, but now it's out in the news that he has this huge secret.

"Damn it," I mutter.

Ann is on her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Word is out already, Avery." She looks disappointed. "The girl's name is Riley. She's sixteen. She takes ballet and attends a prestigious private high school. Gossip magazines are all over it, so we are already behind."

Her accusing eyes lift to meet my shocked gaze. I can't believe it's already out there, everything I know about Riley now the whole world knows.

"I can't lie and say I'm not disappointed in you for missing this."

I feel my cheeks flush bright red. I'm not a great liar. "Oh, well…" My nerves are shot. What can I even say?

Ann's jaw dropped. "Wait. You knew? You knew and didn't include it in the articles or in the web series? Why on earth would you hide this from me? This is a huge deal and we could have been first to break this to the world, Avery!"

I feel like she's yelling at me, even though I know she's not. I remember the sweetness Riley showed the older lady both times that I saw her. I remember how Jax's gaze lingered on his sister as he watched her walk away the other night outside of Restaurant Week. I meet Ann's gaze.

"I did know. I've seen Riley with Jax. And I didn't say a word." I feel anger rising in me, the protective kind.

I stand to my feet. "Why? Because some secrets are too precious to reveal, and some trust is too important to betray.

Jax has gone to the ends of the earth to keep Riley a secret, I assume to keep her safe from people like us always looking for a scoop.

If keeping his secret makes me a bad journalist," I pause, weighing my words before I say them, "then so be it.

I won't write about this. Not today. Not ever. "

I can't stay in that office one second longer. I march out and drive home, shaken and hurting for Jax. I regret turning him down, now. But the fear in me at the thought of him betraying my trust the way my dad did was too strong for me to say yes.

As if she can read my mind, Pen calls.

"Before you ask—I'm fine," she announces, sounding chipper. " And those vids you took at the event for me are spot on. You're not thinking of a career change, I hope, are you?"

I am pacing in my living room and pause just long enough for her to drop the good vibes in her tone.

"What's wrong?" she asks gently.

It all comes out. Sleeping with Jax. Then doing it again. Him at Restaurant Week. Me seeing Riley. The story Ann wanted me to write today. And the big one—Jaxon Carter asking to date me.

Pen is so quiet, I almost think she hung up. "You kept all those secrets from me?" is her horrified first question.

"What? I just said he asked me to be…"

"I know, I know. That is awesome and you're going to text him after I hang up and tell him you not only want to date him but it was not you who leaked any info about his sister! He might already think you did it, Avery!"

Shoot. She's right. My stomach drops as the realization hits me. Of course he would think it was me—I'm the journalist who saw his sister, who he pushed away when I asked about his past, who he finally opened up to just enough to ask me out...and I rejected him.

"We are going to have a proper catch up sesh soon, but you need to text him. This could ruin everything you two were building— behind my back, I might add." Her tone is severe but there's no bite in it.

We end the call at her insistence. My mind is spinning.

My phone rings. It's Ann. I hope I didn't just ruin my career by walking out the way I ruined things with Jax by walking out… my mind goes crystal clear at that.

Dad isn't the only one with a problem of walking when things are too big to handle, now, is he? My hand covers my mouth in astonishment. I do the same thing. And here I am hoping both Ann and Jax will forgive me for it. Doesn't Dad deserve the chance to explain himself, too?

The box of my mother's things sits in the corner of my living room where it's been since she passed. I've avoided looking through it, afraid of the memories it would stir up. But now, drawn by some force I don't fully understand, I cross the room and open it.

Among the photos and keepsakes, I find a stack of letters tied with a faded ribbon. My father's handwriting. Dozens of letters, all addressed to my mother, spanning years after he left. Letters she never showed me. Letters I never knew existed.

With trembling fingers, I open the first one.

My dearest Marie,

I know you won't want to hear from me, but I need to explain. Leaving you and Avery was the hardest thing I've ever done. I convinced myself it was for the best—that my problems would only hurt you both in the long run.

The team doctors kept giving me pills for the pain.

Said I could play through it, that I just needed to tough it out.

By the time I realized I couldn't stop taking them, I was already in too deep.

The pills, the drinking to numb what the pills couldn't touch—I was becoming someone I didn't recognize.

Someone who would hurt you both eventually.

I'm getting help now. Too late for us, I know. But I want Avery to know someday that I didn't leave because I didn't love her. I left because I loved her too much to let her watch me destroy myself.

All my love,

James

I read letter after letter, tears streaming down my face.

They tell a story so different from the one I've carried all these years—not of a man who abandoned us for fame and fortune, but of a former college football star whose career-ending injury led to addiction, who left because he was terrified of what he might become, sending money when he could, asking about me in every letter.

One letter from years later catches my eye.

Marie ,

I saw another young player get carried off the field yesterday.

Same injury that ended my career. I wanted to reach out to him, to warn him about what the team doctors will offer him, how they'll tell him he can play through anything with enough pills.

How they'll use him up and spit him out when he's no longer useful.

This is why I've been working with the addiction center. These kids think they're invincible, just like I did. They don't see how the culture will chew them up and leave them broken. I couldn't save myself in time to keep our family together, but maybe I can save some of them.

I still miss you both every day.

James

The last one is dated just weeks before Mom died.

Marie,

I heard about your diagnosis. I want to help. Please let me be there for you both, even if just financially. Avery shouldn't have to face this alone. Neither should you.

I've been sober for five years now. I run a support group for former athletes dealing with addiction. I know it doesn't make up for the years I missed, but please, let me try.

James

I see a voice note come in from Ann and I listen to it in a daze.

"…journalistic integrity is rare these days, Avery. That's why I went ahead and put your name for consideration at ESPN. My contact says they have an immediate opening for emerging talent. I'll text you the details."

This is my dream job, my dream everything… or it was, before Jax came into my life. I have to make sure he knows I'm innocent. I start typing a text to him, too shaky to call.

But he beats me to it: Avery. It was you, wasn't it? You saw her outside the restaurant with me that night. Do not ever contact me again.

I crumple to the floor, the letters scattered around me. He's got it all wrong. And he won't even let me explain? I stay there for too long, thinking… remembering.

Finally, I pick up the phone and place a call. I know his number. He always finds mine, even when I used to change my number just to keep him away. Not today. Today, he gets his chance. Today, I will listen.

A voice answers.

I draw a shaky breath. "Dad? It's me."

"Avery?" His voice cracks with emotion. "Is it really you?"

"It's me," I confirm, suddenly unsure what to say next. "I found Mom's letters. Your letters. Why didn't you ever tell me what really happened? About the addiction?"

"I tried, sweetheart. So many times. But your mother—she wanted to protect you from that world. From seeing what sports had done to me." He pauses. "And I was ashamed. How do you tell your little girl that you chose pills over her?"

"You didn't choose them," I say softly, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice. "Not really."

"No, but I let them take over. The team doctors kept pushing them—play through the pain, don't let the team down.

By the time I realized what was happening, I was taking ten times the prescribed dose just to function.

I was stealing money from our savings. I was.

.." His voice breaks. "I was becoming dangerous to be around. I couldn't let you see me like that."

"But you got help," I say, thinking of the letters. "You got better."

"I did. It took years. And by then, your mother made it clear you were better off without me in your life. Maybe she was right."

I think of Jax, of the lengths he's gone to protect Riley from the toxic side of sports fame. Different circumstances, but the same core instinct—to shield someone you love from pain, even at great personal cost .

"I'm not ready to forgive everything," I tell him honestly. "But I think I'm ready to listen."

"That's more than I deserve," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I'd like to tell you about the work I'm doing now. With athletes. Trying to stop others from going down the same path."

And in the next five minutes, nothing really changes even though everything does. It's not a fix-all phone call. But it's a step. And now I see Dad a little differently. He was scared, too. Scared of failing, of not showing up enough. Of not being strong enough for Mom and me.

I hold the phone to my chest after the call. I feel… good. Not quite closure. But less jaded. I so desperately want to love my father. And I want to not be like him, too. And after tonight, I think I realize that I can do both.

We've agreed to meet for coffee next week. He wants to show me the community center where he works with young athletes, helping them navigate the pressures and pitfalls of sports culture. Small steps. A chance to rebuild something I thought was permanently broken.

But there's someone else I need to reach out to—someone whose trust I need to earn back.

I pick up my phone again, staring at Jax's name.

How do I make him understand that I would never betray him?

That I kept his secret even when it could have advanced my career? That I'm not the person he thinks I am?

I take a deep breath and start typing, hoping it's not too late to fix what I broke.

Jax, it wasn't me. I would never betray your trust like that. I knew about Riley and chose to keep your secret, even when Ann asked me to write the story today. I walked out instead. I understand if you don't believe me, but I needed you to know the truth.

I hit send, then add one more message:

And about the other night—I was scared. Scared of trusting someone who might leave. But I'm learning that sometimes the risk is worth taking.