Page 93 of Wild Card

Aubrey: What’s to keep other players from selling info and just claiming rule number seven?

Decker: Once you’ve claimed the rule, claiming someone is your wild card, it’s with the understanding that you have to cut all ties with the Devils and any scouts or sponsors who signed you while playing on the team. The article outlines what the benefits are of becoming a Devil, and there are perks that will follow you forever, but if you claim the wild card, that all goes away.

Aubrey: Wow. So that must be hard after being on the team for so long. There must be like a brotherhood that goes with that.

Decker: She’s the only thing that matters to me now.

Aubrey: Well I hope she’s reading this, because Kline Global will be reaching out to her regarding a writing position. This entire thing has been extremely riveting. Thank you for your time, Mr. James.

I set the tablet down in my lap with shaky hands.

Taylor had known. She’d read it…and she knew. I’d ignored his requests to see me and talk to me since that night, but he’d found a way to give me my dream back while also professing his love.

I leaned forward and told my driver we needed to change our route.

Chapter Thirty-One

I wipedthe sweat from my brow and tucked the rag into my back pocket. I mowed and laid new bark chips along the outer edge of the yard, hauled fresh slabs of rock over for the retaining wall, and then applied a fresh coat of white paint over the entire thing.

I was trying to stay busy. Ineededto stay busy.

I’d moved back home and had even tried sleeping in my childhood bed again. It hadn’t seemed like it would be difficult since I’d done it twice with Mallory, except lying there all night proved I was back to not being able to sleep in the house. It was worse now that the bed was tainted with memories of her. So, I slept outside in a newer camper trailer, courtesy of my Uncle Scotty, or so I assumed. I had mentioned to Kyle that I planned on sleeping in my truck until I could save up for one, and the next day the trailer showed up in the driveway.

My mom had finally given in and allowed me to start updating the interior of the house, as long as I didn’t mention selling, and actually, the more I was home, the more I realized I didn’t want to. My dad had built it for my mother when she was pregnant with Kyle. He’d planned out every detail, maxed out five credit cards, and taken out a small loan to finish it. I didn’t want to let it go. At night, when I lay awake, I imagined a life where I had my compass here with me, sleeping next to me every day, guiding me out of that storm that always seemed to swallow me when I entered the house. She’d grow old with me, and I’d never feel lost again.

I blinked, thinking of the previous night’s dinner when both my mother and Kyle had asked me about Mallory, whether she’d called or read the article. The first few times were like tearing away surgical tape over a scar. Each time after was like cutting it open. She hadn’t reached out. I had done the interview weeks ago, it had finally printed and uploaded to their site eight days ago, and it felt safe to assume she was following through with her plan to marry that fuckin’ guy.

I knew Mallory well enough to know she had tried to push me away the last time we were together. Fucking up had been part of our dynamic, and somehow, I’d found the one girl on the planet who seemed to have an infinite amount of patience for how long it took me to get a clue. I knew she realized the truth about Elias, and now with the article, I had truly tried to fix my fuckup regarding our deal…but there had been a look in her eye when I was about to tell her I loved her. It was like she knew she’d hurt me. She knew she couldn’t do this, so she pushed.

I still wasn’t sure what to make of that, but as far as I was concerned, she was mine, always would be. No ring or fake marriage would change that.

Ducking down, I grabbed a pair of hedge clippers and started toward the shed. There was still a decent amount of daylight left, and I needed to clip all the bushes in front.

Once I rounded the tool shack and walked through the small gap between the house and the garage, I heard the sound of tires crunching gravel. I cleared the gap, seeing a shiny black town car come into view.

Setting the clippers against the shed, I grabbed the rag from my pocket once more, wiping my face and hands. Whoever this was seemed rich as fuck. I didn’t want to greet them, sweaty and dirty.

The sun had been out for most of the day, but thankfully it looked as though a swell of clouds might give us a break from the heat. It allowed me to see whoever was exiting that car without having to wince or use my hand as a shield.

The back door of the town car opened a second later, and a head of russet hair popped into view, making my breath hitch.

She bent back down to grab something before standing straight again, then she was explaining something to the driver through the passenger side window. I shifted on my feet, unsure what I was supposed to do while she spoke with him.

A few smiles later, she turned from the car and headed in my direction, wearing a black pencil skirt and matching blazer that seemed more fashionable than functional. Still, it looked cute on her, especially with the loose-fitting white shirt she had underneath.

I wiped my hands again, this time on my jeans, hating how nice she looked in comparison to me. She had on jewelry, her hair was nicely done, and I thought she even had on pearl earrings.

She stepped closer, her high heels wobbling in the gravel, making me skip a step to help keep her balanced. She gripped my forearm right as her ankle twisted to the left.

“Looking every inch the powerful CEO, aren’t we?” I joked, even though the honesty of the words made my gut sink. She’d chosen a path I hadn’t seen coming, something I hadn’t even known was an option for her. It had snuck up and bitten me in the heart. The universe had flipped me the bird and was still laughing.

Mallory dipped her head, tucking glossy strands of hair behind her ear. Having her this close, touching her…it was the worst kind of temptation.

She let me go and hugged a sleek black tablet to her chest.

“Hi.” She smiled, her white teeth bright against her tan skin. She’d gotten some sun, and for whatever reason, the realization that time had passed made my stomach clench.

“Hi,” I replied, not sure how I was still standing.

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