Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Later that night Shane slipped into the Jacuzzi in his master bath and wondered how life could spiral out of control so quickly. His day had been a nightmare from beginning to end. The ninety pounds of petulant twelve-year-old boy the three stooges deposited on his doorstep early that morning proved to be just the beginning.

Once he'd finally arrived at camp, the hordes of media wanted to delve into his feelings about the loss of his father. Shane didn't bother telling them his feelings for Bruce Devlin weren't fit to print. Keeping his answers short and sweet, he tried steering the questions back to football.

By mid-morning, he'd finally made it to the practice field. It wasn't his best showing. His timing was off and he couldn't quite find his receivers as quickly as he would have liked. Fortunately everyone cut him a little slack and Shane wasn't above using their sympathy to his advantage. He figured it was about time Bruce Devlin played a positive role in his career.

"Things will go better tomorrow," he said as much to himself as to his teammates as they trotted off the field. Unfortunately, his stint on the practice turf proved to be the highlight of his day.

Lisa Richardson stood on the sidelines waiting for him. Dressed casually in khaki shorts and a golf shirt, a pink ball cap covering the stubble of hair growing on her head, she smiled as he came near. But thanks to the ball cap, he couldn't tell if the smile reached her eyes. Carly had taken Troy and his posse to her sister's home earlier that morning. Shane wasn't sure what reason she'd given Lisa for Troy being with her. But since the family jewels were still firmly attached to his body, he figured whatever excuse she'd given, it didn't include details of her sleeping arrangements the night before. Or the night before that.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Shane," Lisa said, falling in step beside him.

Fiddling with the helmet he was holding, he pondered how to best get to the locker room without insulting her. He'd pretty much had it with people's condolences for the day.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

Lisa was having no trouble keeping up with his stride. He slowed a little, realizing he couldn't escape the inevitable. Obviously she'd honed her skills during her marriage to Coach.

"You and Troy seem to be holding up well," she said as she came to a stop, strategically blocking the entrance to the locker room. "In case you're wondering, Troy is sleeping at our house. He was exhausted."

Her tone put him on the defensive. He wasn't wondering where the kid was. He'd known Carly had left him with Penny. C.J. told him as much when he and Troy's posse arrived at the training facility for lunch. This was some kind of test, he could feel it. She was baiting him to see how he'd react.

He put on his best Boy Scout smile. "Thank you for that," he said. "I wasn't expecting him to arrive this morning. I appreciate everything you and Penny have done for us. It's been a rough couple of days." Playing the sympathy card was becoming easier. He didn't feel like puking when he invoked it anymore.

Lisa cleared her throat. "As a professional counselor, I want to encourage you to seek grief counseling, Shane. The team has people on retainer who can help you through this."

Is she kidding? Grief counseling! He wasn't grieving. The only thing he felt about his father's death was aggravation. This whole thing with Troy's guardianship had thrown off his concentration. He needed to get his head back in the game. Furthermore, he needed to get Troy out of Baltimore and firmly ensconced with his grandparents. What he didn't need was a grief counselor.

"Thank you, Dr, Richardson. I'll definitely look into that," he lied. The sooner he got into the locker room, the better.

He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a smirk pass over her mouth before she harnessed it. "Good," she said. "I'm afraid it won't be as easy with Troy. Of course, you could both go to therapy together."

Shane felt his whole body tense. He knew where she was going with this and he didn't like it. He'd survived the loss of his mother without the help of a shrink. If Troy couldn't, then his grandfather the reverend would be the one to counsel him.

"Thank you, ma'am," he managed to squeeze out of his clenched jaw. "But where Troy will be living hasn't been settled yet. His grandparents would like him to live with them. I'm sure they'll have some idea how to handle his grief."

"Ahh. I see," she said, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. Her tone implied she didn't see at all. The coach's wife tilted her chin up at him in the same belligerent way her sister did. Shane didn't like it from either one of them. "In that case," she continued, "perhaps you want to leave Troy with us until the situation is resolved? We have plenty of room. That way, you'll be able to get through the next couple of days of mini-camp without being distracted."

Damn, she was tricky. Tossing out the perfect solution to his problem, she waved it in front of his face like chum before a shark. But he couldn't take it. He knew it. And so did she. Pasting a smile on his face, hoping it didn't come off too much like a sneer, he took a step toward the locker room. "That's very gracious of you. But I think it's best if he stays with me until we get things settled. But I appreciate the offer."

She gave him a cheesy smile of her own. Yep, she'd been testing him. And he didn't care if he'd passed or not. He slipped past her into the locker room before she could answer.

Hours later, he was regretting giving in to his conscience. His cell phone rang, snapping him back to the present. He put the call on speaker as he slid further into the warm water.

"Roscoe, where the hell have you been all day?" he snapped, instantly regretting his tone. His agent was the one person who'd always been there to save his ass. Shane needed an ally to help sort out this mess Bruce had left for him.

"When will you get it through your head that you're not my only client, Devlin?"

"When you stop charging me like I am," Shane teased, trying to lighten his tone.

Roscoe chuckled. "You get the family discount, dude, so quit complaining. How's the hip?"

It hurts like Hell! But Roscoe didn't need to know that. "Great. No problems." Shane said, trying not to slosh the water.

"Really? So you're in the Jacuzzi at ten o'clock at night because you feel great?"

Shane sighed and sunk into the heat, not bothering to muffle the sound of the water.

"Seriously, dude, do you have hidden cameras installed in here? "

"Hmm, nice idea, but you're just not that interesting," Roscoe joked. "It's just plain intuition. I've known you too long."

"I've had a stressful day. I'm just trying to relax before hitting the sack."

"Is Troy asleep?"

"Yeah, Beckett has appointed himself babysitter for the night."

Shane was amazed at how quickly the dog attached himself to the grieving kid. Beckett had provided a nice buffer earlier in the evening. What little conversation the two had was centered around the dog's care and feeding. It helped Shane to stay detached from the kid. It was best for both of them. Except now, all he could see was the kid's red-rimmed eyes and his trembling lip, a look of complete desolation on his face. Shane's chest tightened as he remembered that aching feeling of abandonment. He thought those feelings were long buried. Damn Bruce for making him live through them again.

"How'd you manage to shake the boy's posse?" Roscoe asked.

"It wasn't easy. Tiny didn't want to let him out of his sight. But the other two were getting restless to get back to campus. Evan had a hot date and Dante needed to polish his jewelry," Shane joked. He took a swig of mineral water.

"From what I gathered, Tiny was a fixture at Bruce's place," Roscoe said. "He didn't get home often, so he spent his holidays with Bruce, Lindsey, and Troy. He's probably pretty shaken up about their deaths. It would explain his attachment to Troy."

"Yeah," Shane said, remembering the devastation on Troy's face when Tiny and the others drove off. He took another swallow of water. "Well, I'm sure his grandparents will let him invite Tiny for Christmas."

"Don't count on it." Shane sat up in the Jacuzzi, not liking the ominous sound in Roscoe's voice. "Look, Shane, this situation isn't going to resolve itself quickly. I finally got a hold of Dave Shapiro, Bruce's lawyer, late today. He's adamant that Bruce and Lindsey wanted you to have guardianship of Troy. Apparently, Lindsey was estranged from her parents since the time she married Bruce."

"Can you blame them?" Shane quipped.

Roscoe sighed. "The grandparents were allowed to see Troy once a year, but only in Pittsburgh. He was never allowed to travel to the church's compound in Florida. Shapiro says he can't in good conscience facilitate Troy living with his grandparents. He said to tell you that you'll have to take him to court to contest the will."

Shane sucked in a breath. "Christ! Is this guy serious?"

"Oh yeah, he's serious, Shane. And from some digging I did today, he may be right to keep the kid from the grandparents. They are teetering near bankruptcy. Bruce had a six-million-dollar estate from sales of his motivational book. He and Lindsey weren't very careful setting up the trust. You're probably right that they didn't plan on dying young. Nobody does. They hadn't gotten around to naming a trustee yet. The money goes with Troy for his guardian to use for his care. According to Shapiro, there's nothing to stop the grandparents from pouring it all back into the church. The same church that keeps them living the elite life, I might add."

Shane closed his eyes and swore. He didn't like the queasy feeling forming in his stomach.

"Apparently, they've already dismissed the nanny or housekeeper or whatever Consuelo was. Shapiro says she was in his office yesterday, distraught to be separated from Troy. She'd begun to file her retirement papers with the university so she could travel with Troy to his grandparent's home. "

"So now what?" Shane asked the question even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Now you have to decide if you want to contest the will. It will be a long, protracted process, Shane. And I don't have to tell you, you won't come out smelling too pretty," Roscoe said.

When Shane didn't answer, he continued. "There are other options. Troy has enough money to live well. You can hire someone to look after him full time. Consuelo, perhaps? You wouldn't have to alter your lifestyle too much."

Shane found the situation ironic. When his mother died, Bruce Devlin was a homeless junkie. Shane was sent to live on welfare with his grandparents in their double-wide trailer. Troy could afford to live in a palace anywhere in the world.

"Not an option," Shane said firmly.

Shane wanted to believe his staunch refusal was about him concentrating on his career, on breaking Bruce's records. But that was only part of the truth. A very small part. If he was being honest with Roscoe, he'd tell him he didn't have the emotional arsenal to help the kid. What did Shane know about raising a kid, much less nurturing him? He certainly didn't know a thing about love. His mother checked out when she got cancer and his dad…well it was common knowledge how that turned out. You had to be loved to give love, and Shane had no experience with that. But Shane wasn't going to admit that to anyone.

"What's with you, man? Do you sleep in a coffin or something?"

"If I did, you'd have already read about it in the tabloids."

"Stop being a smart-ass and talk to me, Shane," Roscoe pleaded.

When Shane didn't answer, Roscoe sighed wearily. "Fine," he said. "Keep your phobias to yourself. The other option is boarding school. He can afford the best. "

Boarding school. Carly had gone to boarding school, and she'd turned out okay. In fact, the two of them had shared a few laughs last night over her tales of classic dorm pranks and late-night escapades. Christ, had it only been last night since they'd been together? His nerve endings hummed and his body tightened up at the thought of her. Maybe she'd help with the whole boarding school process. She had promised to help out with the kid. Then again, maybe pigs would fly. The tightness in Shane's chest ratcheted up a notch as he recalled the look of utter regret in her eyes this morning.

"That sounds like the winner," Shane said. "How long will it take to get him into one?"

Roscoe let out an exasperated huff. "I really have no idea. I'll get someone working on it tomorrow. You are planning on letting Troy have some say in where he goes, aren't you?"

"It depends on how black my heart is tomorrow," Shane said sarcastically.

"You've got a freakin' screw loose, you know that?" Roscoe asked. "You're punishing an innocent kid for the way your father treated you."

"I don't pay you to analyze me, Roscoe. Just find a school for the kid."

Roscoe let loose a few obscenities before hanging up.

Shane snapped the phone closed and placed it on the tile floor surrounding the Jacuzzi as he leaned his head back against the wall. Roscoe was the second person today to accuse him of punishing Troy for Bruce's sins. Carly was the first.

Closing his eyes, he could still clearly see her angry face right before she stormed out of his office. It was better this way. It was easier to break it off if she was angry at him. He never should have gotten involved with her in the first place. Hell, a few weeks ago his life had been so simple: make the team, become the starter, and break Bruce's remaining records. The starting job wasn't guaranteed. Just today, he'd had to share reps with an undrafted rookie from Idaho. Potato Head had youth on his side, but Shane still knew the game better than any quarterback.

Fooling around with the coach's sister-in-law, though, likely jeopardized not only his status as starter, but his spot on the team. Yeah, it was definitely better to have her hating him. It seemed something positive had come out of the mess Bruce had left him after all.

Shane hefted himself out of the Jacuzzi and toweled off. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he went down to the kitchen to set up the coffeemaker for the next morning. On his way, he paused at the door of the guest bedroom to check on his uninvited guest. The kid was zonked out, one arm tucked under the blanket and the other gripping a tattered pillow he must have brought from home. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks tear stained, but he was finally sleeping peacefully.

The kid hadn't said much when Shane retrieved him from the Richardsons'. Penny was as unhappy as his posse to let him out of her sight. One hard look from Shane, and she'd bit back whatever she'd wanted to say. Apparently all women associated with Coach couldn't wait to give him a piece of their mind.

Beckett lay sprawled across the foot of the bed. The dog opened one eye as Shane passed, but didn't bother to get off the bed. Traitor. Shane closed the door and headed to the kitchen.

As he stood at the sink filling the coffee carafe, his mind drifted back twenty-four hours. He could still feel Carly's hip pressed up against his as they stood side by side washing dishes. For the life of him, he couldn't remember ever washing dishes with another woman, much less enjoying it. Hell, most of the women he dated had so many food hang-ups they wouldn't be caught dead in a kitchen. But the previous evening with Carly was more than just a night of sex. He'd let his guard down with her, and that could only lead to disaster. Women like Carly wanted more than Shane was capable of giving. He just wasn't genetically programmed for a lasting relationship with anyone.

Flicking off the light, he padded barefoot up the stairs trying to shake off the memories of last night. When he reached his bedroom, he yanked off the towel, tossed it on a chair, and climbed into the king-size bed. The scent of Carly's citrus perfume clung to the pillow. For a split second, he contemplated changing the sheets before succumbing to temptation and curling his face into the pillow.

He'd been a fool to get involved with Carly. But he'd been unable to ignore the sexual pull she had on his body. The look of contempt she gave him this morning didn't do too much to lessen the pull, but at least whatever they'd shared had ended quickly, with her seeing his flaws for what they were. Heck, he'd never pretended to be anyone other than who he was. Carly March was like all the rest of the women who thought they could change him and were disappointed when they couldn't. Only this time, Carly's disappointment stung.

A blast of cool air hit Troy in the face as he came into the locker room. It was a hot June day, more than ninety degrees, and he'd spent most of it outside on the practice field watching Shane in mini-camp. The air-conditioning felt good on his damp skin. He grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, rubbing the bottle over his face before guzzling its contents.

The last couple of days had been like a dream come true for Troy. After Shane's initial shock when Troy had surprised him at his house, he thought his brother would send him immediately back to his grandparents. But Shane had instead surprised Troy, letting him tag along to the training facility. The first day, Shane kept him on the field with him, telling the reporters to leave them both alone. It was cool how the reporters wanted to talk to them. It made Troy feel important. They wanted to ask questions about their dad, but Shane said the reporters should respect their privacy and not distract practice. So, Troy stood on the sidelines, ignoring the media and watching in awe as his brother threw one perfect spiral after another.

Clearly, Shane had gotten all the athletic genes and that's why Troy was such a klutz. But he was okay with it because his big brother was a superstar who was finally paying attention to him. His mom and dad would be so happy. Troy shook off the numbness that threatened to overtake him whenever he thought about his parents, refocusing on the good times he shared with his brother these past few days instead.

That first night, Shane and his friend, Donovan Carter, took him to get burgers. The three then played a few rounds of mini golf at a local ice cream stand. Donovan teamed up with him so they could beat Shane. Troy couldn't remember a night being more fun.

Yesterday went the same as the one before. C.J. Richardson recruited Troy to work as a ball boy, toweling off the sweaty footballs and trotting onto the field with Gatorade for the players. Afterward, Shane invited C.J. over for steaks and to watch Gladiator. Troy's mom would never let him watch that movie. He swallowed a huge lump as he thought of his mom and how much he missed her. But he had his brother now. He was so happy he'd talked Tiny into bringing him to Shane's house. Things were going great.

Until Troy had ruined it.

He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. Last night, while they were cleaning up and getting ready for bed, Troy asked Shane if he had an Xbox. Everyone has one. Especially rich sports stars. Surely Shane had one somewhere.

"Nah," Shane said. "Those things rot your brain."

Troy laughed because that was what his father always said. "You sound just like Dad," he'd joked.

Only Shane didn't think it was funny. He just stared at Troy for a long moment, looking a little scary. Then, he snatched up Beckett's leash, snapped it on the dog's collar, and yanked him out of the door for a walk. Troy waited up a while, but when Shane didn't come back, he crawled into bed and tried not to cry.

He'd waited all his life to meet his brother. He wanted Shane to like him. He desperately needed them to be a family. Without Shane, he had no one else. And now he'd gone and blown it. When he woke later that night, Beckett was back and laying on Troy's feet in the bed, snoring softly. At least Beckett still liked him.

This morning, Shane told Troy they'd be going to his cabin in western Pennsylvania the next day. Troy wanted to ask questions about the cabin, but his brother was back to grunting at him. When they arrived at the training facility for mini-camp, Shane told him to stick with the other ball boys and to make sure he drank plenty of water. Troy wanted to believe Shane was concerned about him. But more likely his brother didn't want Troy dropping dead of heat stroke because it would interfere with his precious practice.

All Shane cared about was football. He didn't even seem to care about girls. Troy thought all sports stars cared about girls. But, except for that first morning, he hadn't seen any women hanging around. Maybe that's why Shane was so mad at him. The girls wouldn't come over if Troy was there. But Troy could be polite and all. He could make himself scarce if that's what Shane wanted him to do .

Even Carly was ignoring Shane. At first, Troy thought maybe she lived with Shane. That would be okay. She was really pretty and nice. And, she was Molly's aunt. Molly said Carly was really cool. But Molly had looked at Troy funny when he'd asked if Carly was Shane's girlfriend. Then Molly had laughed. Maybe Troy was wrong. Maybe Carly was just there that morning to borrow some coffee or something. After all, she didn't look like she liked Shane at all. She always smiled at Troy when he saw her in the commissary or around the practice facility, but she never looked at Shane. Except when she thought no one was looking. Then she stared at Shane, but her eyes were really sad when she did it.

C.J. strolled into the locker room, a blast of hot, sticky air following him in. He had a bag of footballs slung over his shoulder and was mumbling into his cell phone. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going and Troy quickly scrambled to his feet before being stepped on. Troy didn't want to get C.J. mad at him, too. C.J.—all the Richardsons—were nice to him. C.J. treated him like any of the other ball boys, overlooking the fact that he was smaller and younger than the other kids. He didn't smirk or laugh when Troy threw the football even though they both knew he threw like a girl. Like Shane, C.J. had been given all of his father's athletic genes. Troy liked him in spite of it.

"Hey, Short Stuff," C.J. called from the equipment room. "Let's go get some ice cream in the commissary."

Okay, so he didn't like being called Short Stuff, but Troy's friends were few and far between right now, so he'd take what he could get.