6. Lucas

"Nick is watching SportsCenter on his phone." My sister Ella looks at me with a raised eyebrow. She folds her arms over her school uniform. "No phones, no television, no social media during mealtime. You're the one who made the rules, and he's breaking it right here at the breakfast table."

My brother looks up from his lap, a stunned look on his face, his eyes wide. "I'm doing… research… for current events."

I reach down to his lap and pull out his phone. Holding it in the air, I give my head a shake. "No phones during mealtime."

"That's right. And Lucas's phone has been blowing up since we got up this morning. You don't see him all over it, do you?"

Nick glares at Ella. "I just wanted to see highlights of the game yesterday."

"You watched it with Krista." I bring the breakfast dishes to the sink and rinse off crusted egg yolk before loading them into the dishwasher. "It wasn't such a great one, either. Why are you so interested in highlights?"

"I just wanted to see Jase Maxwell shit the bed again with those missed passes." Nick chuckles. "All the guys are talking about it. They want to know if you guys are friends so they can meet him and tell him in person that he sucks."

A pang assaults my heart. Friends. That's a stretch and a half. After last night, I doubt he'll even look at me ever again. And I know for sure that'd be the case if he knew the kinds of lewd, X-rated fantasies that whipped through my mind while I tossed and turned all night, replaying that kiss.

"Whoa, language, dude." I force a smile at Nick. "And I think they'd have better luck getting to him through the team social media department than through me."

"Aren't all guys on the team friends?" Nick bites off a piece of his toast, mumbling through it. "You guys have to be there for each other or else the team will fall apart, right? I mean, it'd probably be easier hearing he sucks from you than from a bunch of thirteen-year-olds."

"I don't think hearing you suck is ever easy, no matter who drops that bomb on you."

Nick nods. "I guess so. I mean, if I sucked real bad at baseball, I wouldn't want to hear it from you guys."

"And we're the closest people to you." I rinse my hands and dry them on a dish towel. "Imagine how harsh it'd be coming from a bunch of punk-ass kids."

"Whoa, language," Nick mimics, his face an expression of mock horror.

I swallow a grin. He's a real sarcastic pain in the ass. Can't wait until he gets to high school. That oughta be a fucking hoot.

Ella taps her loafers against the floor. "Okay, time to go. I don't want to be late."

Ella is the structure around here and she's kind of taken on the role of nurturer for Nick, even though Krista spends a lot of time with them after school and on weekends when I'm training or playing. I take them all with me to as many away games as I can, but the kids are getting older and they have their own lives here with sports and activities.

I've worked my ass off so they can have lives as close to normal as possible. Nothing can ever replace what we had… what we lost… but as long as they're still smiling, I feel good about my choices.

And a little panicked that bad choices might yank it all away from us.

Because even though Jase took the blame for the fight last night when he was on the phone with his agent, I'm the guy who's always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I take a deep breath.

Everything will be fine. It has to be.

I rub the stress knot lodged at the base of my skull. I'll do anything to protect the kids and keep them safe. If they ever knew what happened that night, it would destroy them. They'd hate me.

Taking care of Ella and Nick, making sure they have everything they could possibly want, it's the only way for me to even begin to make it up to them.

My older brother Aaron decided a long time ago that he doesn't care what I have to give… he still doesn't want it.

A chill shudders my insides.

Part of me believes it's because he already knows the truth and hates me for it.

But I can't lose Ella and Nick too.

"Come on, Lucas." Ella walks over to the hall table where her science project sits. She decided to make an apple wrecking ball to explain how momentum, inertia, and force can knock down objects of different weights. And thanks to Krista, it was almost done by the time I got home last night. I'm definitely giving that woman a raise.

I pick up her bag of objects while she carries the board with the apple, stuff my phone into my pocket, and grab my keys. A few minutes later, we're in my blacked-out Bronco on the way to St. Francis Academy to drop Ella off first since the high school starts earlier than the middle school.

I stab the screen to select a Spotify playlist we all love, and a few seconds later, my agent's name flashes on the screen. My brow furrows. It's 6:40 on a Monday morning. What the hell could my agent, Greg, want?

My blood runs cold.

Wait. No. Stop.

There's no reason to freak the fuck out. Maybe it's about the endorsement deal we talked about last week.

I tap the steering wheel. At this ridiculous hour?

Ella turns to me. "You going to answer that?"

I grit my teeth and stab the Accept button. "Hey, Greg. What's up?"

"I've been calling you for the past two hours. Why haven't you picked up?"

I recoil at the alarm in his voice. "Um, my ringer was off. Phone was charging."

"Jesus," he mutters. I can just see him sitting at his desk, holding his head in his hand like he does for a lot of his clients. But I'm not one of the problem children, so I really don't understand why?—

"I got a call from Rex Ashton a few hours ago." His voice is grave.

Fuck. Jase must have told him I was involved in that brawl after all.

"You need to get to the stadium as soon as possible. I'll meet you there."

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Ella is chomping at the bit to ask what happened. Fortunately, I just pulled up to the school and a group of her friends are waiting for her at the curb.

Thank fuck.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." I give a quick glance to the back seat. Nick has his AirPods in and his eyes are glued to his lap again. Stabbing the End Call button, I paste a smile on my face and reach behind me for Ella's bag of project props.

"Have a great day. I'll see you at pickup."

"Are you serious?" Her jaw drops. "What did your agent want so early? Why do you need to get to the stadium? And why did he sound like you were in serious trouble?"

The kid is like a fucking cutthroat litigator already, and she's only fourteen.

"Oh, that's just about an endorsement deal. I'm sure it's just to iron out details."

Ella narrows her eyes. "Then why are you going to the stadium and not Greg's office? And who's Rex Ashton?"

"Ella, go to class."

"I want answers."

I lean toward her, my jaw tight. I can see the fear in her gaze. I can sure as hell feel it knotted in my chest.

"And I'll give them to you. When I see you. Later." I nod my head pointedly toward the door. "Good luck with your project presentation."

Her bright-blue eyes darken. "You're okay?"

"I'm great."

"Promise?"

I nod. My lips fight against the smile but I hold it in place until the door slams shut and Ella disappears with her friends. With a hammering heart and a hell of a lot of unanswered questions racing through my mind, I peel away from the curb and head in the direction of Nick's school.

This is a whole different drop-off. He smiles, doesn't bother to pull out his AirPods, and yells for me to have a great day. I yell back to lower the volume so he doesn't bust his eardrums. With an exaggerated wave, he's gone.

I stare after him for a long minute, knowing I need to go but afraid of what will be waiting for me at the stadium.

Like a sucker punch to the gut, I have a thought, and while it's not a great one, it's something.

Aaron. I need to find my older brother.

Last time we saw him, he'd passed through the city looking for money and a hot meal. I'd tried for years to get him help, to give him anything he needed because he'd gone off the deep end after our parents died in that house fire and was just drifting through life, high on whatever he could find or barter for.

But he always ran. I couldn't hold him down and after a while, I just stopped trying. He didn't care that we were still here for him, and I don't know if he'll care now. But if something happens, if shit goes sideways because of what happened last night, he might be my only option to keep the kids safe and together.

He'll clean up for them. He has to. I just need to find him.

My fingers clench the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turn white.

All sorts of scenarios loop through my mind as I drive to the stadium. I don't know anything other than the fact that Greg sounded tense as hell, and what I don't know could destroy everything.

And I'll have failed my parents again.

I get out of my truck like I'm next in line for the electric chair. The closer I get to the main door to the stadium, the more my leg muscles tense and tighten. They want to run and I don't blame them.

Greg waits for me just inside the stadium. The management offices are upstairs in a private wing, so I guess he thinks there's power in numbers if we go together instead of me walking into the shark tank alone.

"What's happening, Greg?"

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle when he looks up from his phone, his thick eyebrows knitted together. His lips stretch into a tight line.

"Somebody's about to get fired."