Page 107 of Mad Rivals
Let him dragmeinto this now that I know about his illegal activities?
I’m too tied up in this company now to let that happen. If it’s supposed to be my future after my playing days are over, I can’t let it all blow up, and I can’t let investigations happen that would reveal how he’s been laundering money through the real estate development business.
Maybe I’m the only one who can save this family. This company.
The legacy.
And maybe I’m the only one who can protect Kennedy from the fallout.
I know what I have to do, and once my mind is made up, there’s little that will change it.
I move to action.
I start by picking up the phone with the cracked screen and giving her a call.
She doesn’t answer. She’s mad. I get that.
But she’s going to be even angrier after I say what I have to say to her.
I hang up and text her instead.
Me:I’m on my way over. We need to talk.
And then I pack my small suitcase and head for her place.
She doesn’t text me back, but she does open her door once I ring the bell.
“What do you want?” she asks tiredly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I made the wrong call, okay? But I need to talk to you.”
She opens the door a little wider to let me in, and I storm past her.
I don’t want to do this. Everything inside me is screaming that I’m making the wrong decision.
But I have to. It’s the only way I can protect her from whatever investigation might come next.
She folds her arms as she leans against the front door, and when she sees me pacing like a caged tiger, she asks, “What’s going on?”
I finally stop and face her. “I need to get to Chicago tonight, and I just stopped by to let you know I’ll be out of town for a few days.”
Her brows dip together. “Is everything okay?”
I shake my head. Fuck, what a day it’s been. First the bid, which went well. Then the emergency wide receivers’ meeting. Then the call from my father.
And now…this.
“No. It’s not. There’s too much bad blood between our families for us to do this.” My chest feels like it’s cracking in half as I say the words I rehearsed on my way over here.
“To do what?” she asks.
“You know too much, Kennedy. It’s too dangerous. I can't be with you, and I need you to keep your mouth shut for your own safety.”
Her brows crease together as anger steps its way back in—as it should, considering the words I just spoke to her. “Keep my mouth shut?” she demands. “But I’m on the video footage of you breaking into the warehouse.”
“I can easily say you were someone else and let it die there,” I say.
“Where is this coming from?” She hasn’t moved from her spot where she’s leaning against her front door, but now italmost looks like she’s slumping against it, like it’s holding her up now instead of just being a place to lean, and I feel it, too.
