Page 160 of The Americana Playbook

I put the hammer down beside the box cutter. “I need you to promise me toneverthink that you are second to anyone or anything in my life. I get I made you feel that way before. I made you feel you were second to football. I let…himmake me think that was the only way. But it isn’t true.”

I stand, walking down the stairs.

“Because things might’ve been different, but maybe I would’ve been better with you beside me all these years. I need you to understand that I think you are the bravest, strongest person I know. And that’s saying something.” I reach out, wiping away the tears from her cheeks. “Most of my friends are close to three hundred pounds.”

I feel like I can finally breathe when Parker lets out a soft laugh.

“I need you to understand that I’d do anything for you. Rip up carpet”—I motion behind me—“take on a demonic mother-in-law. All of it. I’d do it for you. But I need you to do something forme, Parker.”

She tries to get a hold on her quivering lips but doesn’t succeed. “What?” she asks again.

I tilt up her chin. “Let me be beside you when you turn the world upside down. Even if I’m in the line of fire, I promise you, the country will never have seen a husband prouder of his wife.”

The quivering takes over her entire face as I kiss her.

Maybe it’s the thousandth kiss we’ve shared in a short period of time, but this one feels and tastes different. And what Parker says next after she wraps her arms around my neck lets me know why.

“I love you, Fitz.”

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“What?” I ask, pulling her to my side. “Walk without being followed? I’d love to keep doing it. Let’s take another lap.”

Parker taps my middle. “Fitz, if you need to take some and think?—”

“There’s been enough taking,” I tell her. “Foller took you from me. Your parents took your freedom. That place took Sarah’s life and god knows how many others’.”

Today, we’re taking back what we can.

After finishing up what I could of the stairs and a shower, I made two courtesy calls. The first was to Heath to tell him it might be in his best interest to find a new coach immediately because I was certain that by the time the news broke, there wouldn’t be any Rebels players willing to suit up for Foller.

And the second was to Nick, who, after I told him to meet me at our apartment later this afternoon for a crisis control situation, I apologized to and told him to figure out what I need to do to make sure the League’s ethics committee hears me when I tell them all the things I never really wanted to admit, whether Foller gets the ax or not.

My phone vibrates in my pocket as we approach the Hilton.

“We’re going to suite 950,” I tell her. “You ready?”

Parker nods.

She feels ready. There’s a peaceful confidence about her as we walk into the hotel and head to the elevator. And still, I worry.

“Parker, if you don’t want to do this, I’ll have a getaway car downstairs in two minutes.”

She shakes her head. “I have to. I know I won’t be able to endeverything, but I can end it with them. All the pieces of this puzzle.” She narrows her eyes. “Including Foller. But when this is over, you owe me a honeymoon. You promised.”

I laugh. “After the season, I promise.” I bring up our locked hands, kissing the knuckle above her ring. “Just you and me, right?”

Parker smiles sadly. “But we’re doing it for others.”

Nodding, I hold my arm so she can exit the elevator first. “Do me a favor, though,” I say as we head down the hall. “Count to a hundred. I need a minute with him.”

Parker squeezes my hand and lets go, leaning against the wall as I head to suite 950.

The door opens almost instantly. “Fitz!” A woman holds out her hand. “Rebecca Morris fromThe Boston Journal.”

I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

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