43. JT

CHAPTER 43

JT

My strategy session with Mickey this morning went exactly the way I thought it would. He’s probably still bouncing. I swore him to secrecy, and I know he’ll keep his mouth shut until I can figure a way out of this mess.

His solution was to dig up some dirt on Curtis and blackmail him.

If this were a TV show, that might work. But this is my life, my future. My family .

I don’t know what the hell to do.

Obviously, I can’t throw a game. That’s not even an option.

The logical answer is to go to the authorities, but I know Curtis will either make good on his threat to take me down, or worse, he’ll do something to put Maggie in danger.

I’ve even considered playing up my injury, as shitty as that would be. If I’m out of the game, does that negate the bet? But Kersey’s got a losing record, so forcing myself to sit out isn’t too far from throwing the game. And I’m not going anywhere near that shit.

There’s got to something I can do, but I’m out of ideas. My brain is scrambled and that probably has something to do with the fact that Maggie’s only a few weeks shy of her due date and I’m fucking terrified.

That’s why I’m ringing Coach’s doorbell this early in the morning.

It takes him a second to answer, and he looks like shit. He’s been prepping like crazy for the Frozen Four, but the man looks like he hasn’t slept or maybe even showered in a couple days.

“Norris,” he says. “What brings you by? Is?—”

I shake my head because I know what he’s about to say and even though he’s been a prick, I don’t want him to worry. “Maggie’s fine. Great, actually. The baby, too.”

“Good. That’s good,” Coach says, still standing in his doorway. “I know she’s not due for a little over a month yet, but by the end of next week, she’ll be considered full-term.”

“You been reading up on pregnancy, Coach?” I’m not sure why the idea makes me happy as shit and mad as hell all at the same time.

“Yes, actually. Maggie’s my niece. I’ve loved her since the minute I found out I was going to be an uncle. I was thirteen. I knew shit about life and less about babies. She has always been special to me,” Coach says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I haven’t acted like it lately, but she’s family. And we look out for each other, even if it means reading parenting books.”

I don’t know what to say to that. The words are nice, but so much damage has been done. I can’t stay quiet, though. “You should let her know that. It would me a lot to her.”

Coach just looks at me, and I don’t have the patience to figure out what he’s thinking. Suddenly, I’m possessed by the need to see Maggie. I don’t know if I’m ready to tell her everything, but just holding her in my arms is going to calm my ass down.

“Look, Coach, I gotta go. I?— ”

“Wait, JT,” he calls. The use of my first name, such as it is, causes me to stop. “What do you need?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“No shit. So why are you here?”

“I shouldn’t be,” I say with more force than necessary. “I should be home in bed with my girl making plans for the future, not here on your doorstep like some kid who needs his big brother’s help. There’s only one reason I’m here, Coach, and that’s Maggie.”

He smiles—fucking smiles—at me. “Funny, that’s the same reason she gave me.”

Coach leaves his door wide open as he turns and walks back into the house. “Pick up the pace, Norris. You’re slower than your girlfriend and she’s nearly thirty-six weeks pregnant. We’re in my office.”

“Wait, is Maggie—” I bolt through the door at the mere thought that my girlfriend is here, and when I see her sitting in one of the club chairs in Coach’s home office, I can’t resist the urge to wrap my arms around her. It’s awkward as hell because she’s sitting and I’m standing, but when my lips touch her forehead, something inside me immediately calms down. We’re going to be okay. Somehow, we’re going to figure this out.

“What are you doing here?” I ask her, linking our hands together as I sit in the chair next to hers.

Maggie shrugs. “I’m worried about you. I think you should tell Uncle Hudson what’s going on.”

“That’s why I’m here,” I say. “I’m worried as hell, and if keeping you and the Nugget safe means calling in reinforcements, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Jesus, JT, what the hell’s going on?” Coach has shifted back into big bro mode and though there’s still shit we’ll need to sort through, I’m too desperate not to come clean.

“Curt got early parole. He’s pissed as hell and wants what he thinks I owe him. I was dodging his calls, hoping he’d take the hint, but that’s not how my family rolls. Anyway, shit hit the fan last night. He came to our place and wanted to talk. He knows who Maggie is and that we’re having a baby.”

“Shit,” Coach mutters. “Alright, well?—”

“He’s gonna bet on the game. He wants me to choke so he can win big since we’re favored. Obviously,” I say, cutting Coach off before he loses his shit, “I’m not even considering fucking with the game. But he threatened to fuck up my career, to make it look like I was mugged. And he threatened Maggie. That shit can’t stand, Coach. There’s gotta be something I can do, but you know as well as I do that if cops show up at his door, things are not gonna end well for me.”

Coach nods decisively. “I’ll handle it.”

“You don’t understand. He’s?—”

“I said I’ll take care of it, and I will. You have my word, both of you. Granted, that may not mean much right now, but I promise, I’ve got it. You,” he says, looking at Maggie, “take care of yourself and that baby. And you,” Coach says, his eyes trained on me, “take care of your girlfriend and the child she’s carrying. And make sure you’re on time for practice. We’ve got work to do before this weekend.”

“I can’t let you take care of this, Coach. I just need your advice. It’s not your job to protect me from my fucked up family or my past mistakes.”

‘That’s where you’re wrong. My role as your Coach, as your friend, as your family is exactly that—to look out for you. I’ve done a shit job of it lately, so let me earn my keep, ok? I’ve got this. Your job is to play your best goddamn game. My job is to drown out all the noise so you can do that.”

For a minute, I just close my eyes. My fingers are still linked with Maggie’s and her touch grounds me. For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, I can take a good, deep breath.

I stand up and reach for Maggie, helping her out of the deep, cushiony chair. She loops one arm around my waist and positions the other on her lower back. Placing a kiss on the top of her head, I breathe in the scent of her and promise myself I’ll wait until we get outside to pull her close and kiss the hell out of her.

“JT,” Coach calls, “one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

Coach looks me over like he can see me innermost thoughts. I hope like hell he can’t for both our sakes. “Whatever harebrained, half-assed scheme your boys are cooking up?”

I make a face of disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

Coach doesn’t buy it. “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. Call them off. Ollie or Dean or Jesus …Mickey.

I don’t say a word, but when Coach utters Mickey’s name, I can’t look him in the eye.

Coach runs a hand through his hair. “Sweet fucking hell. Call it off. You got me?”

“Loud and clear, Coach,” I say, taking Maggie’s hand and sending up a prayer that Mickey hasn’t gone full vigilante quite yet.