24. Bennett

TWENTY-FOUR

BENNETT

"I'm done," Luke repeats for emphasis. I can tell the room next door is deadly silent while they listen to the statement he so carefully crafted. Gab and I are in the conference room right next to it, watching all of this on a TV. We thought it would be better to not go in the room with him. It was hard as hell having to let go of his hand fifteen minutes ago, but we both know this is something he had to do on his own. I focus back on the TV as he continues.

"I don't owe you anything and I won't give you anything anymore. Maybe I'll reconsider in a year or two, I don't know. But this is the last time you see me here. And if anyone ever puts a picture of my brother on the internet again, I'll sue them." Luke shrugs like it's no big deal. "You're lucky I'm not suing for slander today. I don't care about any fines from the NFL, I can pay them." He shrugs again, and I marvel at how truly relaxed he looks even though I know he's not.

"I don't care about visibility or calming down the fan base that decided since January I'm no good anymore. I care about my family, I care about playing football, and I care about being treated with basic respect, which is something I never had until I became an adult. So yeah, take a good look because I'm done with all of you. If you have any complaints I suggest you direct them at Gab Darnell. She's strong enough to deal with all your bullcrap, I'm not, and I won't allow your overwhelming disrespect into my life anymore."

With that, Luke takes a step back and walks out of the camera's view.

"Well, damn. The brat went and outdid me," Gab murmurs from next to me.

I wish I could laugh at her objectively funny comment—no one will ever outdo the lesson she taught reporters after her nephew came out of the closet—but I just don't have it in me. No matter how awesome Luke was up there, nothing is fixed really.

And there will be consequences from this, I just know it.

Luke walks in looking dazed. His hands are empty now, since he left his contract on the podium. Gab rushes to him and hugs him with all her strength.

"You did good, my protégé. I'm so proud of you."

A sharp-looking bald man who's probably in his fifties comes in at that moment. "Uh." He shoves a phone in Gab's direction. "It's the commissioner."

Gab rolls her eyes, then straightens and visibly puts her game-face on as she reaches for the phone. I'm pretty sure the commissioner is like the head guy of the NFL, so I'm surprised when she takes the call right in front of us.

"What's up, John." She speaks very casually as if she hasn't a single clue why she's getting a call from him. I swear this woman and her nerves of steel are going to fry my fucking nerves.

Did the fucking consequences arrive so damn quickly? Really? Luke couldn't have even five fucking minutes to rejoice in what he just did?

Gab frowns as she listens to whatever John is telling her. Then she takes a deep breath and fucking unleashes on that man.

"No, I'm not fining him." She starts in a tone that suggests that would be ridiculous. "No, I'm not going to even suggest to him that he should apologize. No, I'm not going to tell him he has to have contact with the media when he clearly doesn't want to. He's earned the right to do whatever he wants until I decide otherwise, not you. I'm pretty sure he should be getting apologies instead of all that. Public fucking apologies."

She listens for a few seconds then snorts. "You can go ahead and fine him all you want, I'll be paying them. Just telling you so we're being transparent." Another five seconds of her listening and then...Gab does her thing.

"No, you're the one who's not understanding that there are some quarterbacks in your League who are currently trying to quietly settle sexual assault suits, and I know for a fact they don't even get a second thought from you, let alone this much time trying to punish them. They are even revered for being mediocre little shits, especially compared to Lucas fucking Riggs. I have an MVP quarterback who's probably going to get me three more rings before I have to kick him out of here when he turns forty.

"All you have is your threats of fines. So go ahead, fine me, I don't care. I can keep it up and make that money back in the next five minutes. I can also call up a meeting with all the owners and put you in your place in front of them if that's what you need to finally get with the program. You and anyone in your organization who tries to bully me into punishing a man who's clearly just been slandered on national television can be gone when my friends and I get together, do you understand ?

"Because your misogynistic business only has me as proof that you're not, you got me? You can't get rid of me, but I can and will do anything in my power to get rid of you . Just fucking try me, I dare you."

She hangs up without waiting for a response.

"Holy shit," Luke whispers in awe. "That's Gabrielle fucking Darnell." He's smiling but tears are brimming in his eyes. "Can you really have him replaced?" he asks.

"I don't actually know, but I don't fucking care if I can or can't. I'll make it happen if he doesn't stop being an imbecile."

Luke takes a deep breath through his nose, lets it out through his mouth, then another one. His eyes shift to me for a second before going back to Gab and I can see the second he decides he can't hold it in anymore.

"Fuck," he says in a raspy whisper. "Fuck!" he screams. Then he covers his face with both hands. His shoulders shake with the sobs rocking his body.

I finally stand and go to him. Nothing could hold me back anymore, I have to hold him.

I have to let him know somehow that I've got him, even though there's nothing I can realistically do to protect him. I don't have any fucking power in the world of football. In any world, really. I've never felt this powerless or helpless.

I can only hold Luke as he lets it all out, and realize after a few seconds that Gab's holding him too. I keep my arms around him even when Gab lets go and looks at the bald man. "You should leave this room now, Bob," she tells him. "I'm about to make some calls, and who knows, you might want to have plausible deniability on your side."

Looking scared but just as awed as Luke did, he leaves without a word .

"Hey Harry." I hear her say a moment later. The poor, recently married couple is only getting more interruptions from us it seems. I hear her tell him everything then they start throwing out names. "So twenty. We've got twenty out of thirty-two owners who would be on our side if John decides he wants to try to get rid of me. Yeah, okay, sorry for the interruption. Enjoy it. Bye."

Luke straightens, breathing more evenly now, and sighs. "Let's go home to our kids," he whispers.

"Yeah, pretty boy."

"Love you, cutie," he whispers, and then he gives me a sweet kiss that tastes like gratitude.

We find a security guard who's Luke's friend, Mitch, and he makes sure the coast is clear all the way to the parking lot. Gab gave Luke the day off and told him he better come back ready for a brutal practice tomorrow.

I think about what just happened on the way home.

Could Gab lose the team? Is Luke going to be out of a job?

It's not like the man can't retire today, but he loves football. Like I know Adam and Clive love football. I've seen it the last few weeks when I come home and he's watching tape. I see it in the way his eyes light up when I ask him to explain one of the plays to me.

He doesn't love it more than he loves Robbie or Gordon, though, and I'm pretty sure he loves Lizzie and me just a tiny bit more too. But he does seem more alive after he's played all day with his football and his friends. Childish as that might seem, I don't see it that way.

I can only be positive and hope he gets to play for as many more years as he wants to while we drive back to his home.

We spend a day full of peace, at home with our phones turned off—well, not Gordon's, since he wants to hear the second there is news on Marcy's location. The kids are thankfully none the wiser about the whole ordeal, Robbie having gone back to his new normal happy self since yesterday.

When we go to bed though, I just know there's no way this ends well. Robbie's mother is still out there being basically hunted down by the police, and he's going to have to deal with that at some point. Then there's the fact that she'll go to prison if they manage to catch her.

For how long would that be? I have no clue whatsoever honestly, but yeah, our precious, innocent, finally happy and outgoing boy is going to have to deal with her at some point.

As will Gordon and Luke.

I feel for Gordon, I really do. He seems like a good man, and I don't know how a woman who's his daughter can have so much hate for Luke, for her own father.

Is there something we're missing? Something that happened to her to make her this way? Or is it simply who she is?

Spoiled, capricious, a brat with zero empathic ability?

I read the testimonies Luke's lawyer got yesterday and one of them was from Marcy's doctor. In it, she specified that after seeing the emotional disconnect between mother and child, she'd asked a colleague to do an emotional evaluation to figure out if maybe Marcy had postpartum depression.

They ruled it out, which means . . .

Maybe she's just forever lost inside her hateful and resentful thoughts.

Maybe there's no turning back, and all we can do now is make sure she never has any power over Robbie again.

I lie awake for hours next to Luke who's sleeping peacefully, thinking about all the possibilities.

I've encountered a few awful people in my life, obviously, but not one of those was a person who would always have a connection to someone I love. It's a bit harder to pin her as a downright villain when I know her son and her father. It just doesn't compute for me how she could do all of this.

But I know if she'd suffered some trauma, if something or someone had made her this way, then we would know it by now.

No, I have to accept the very real possibility that she simply doesn't love her father and doesn't love her son. If I do, then maybe I can help Gordon and Luke when all of this eventually blows over.

That's the last thought I have before sleep finally takes me, and then, a pretty insistent knock on the door to our bedroom wakes me from a dead sleep. I sit up, scared out of my mind and call out. "Yeah?"

The door creaks open and Gordon comes in. I turn the bedside lamp on and see on my phone's lock screen that it's five a.m.

"Sorry," Gordon whispers. "My doctor just called. They have a kidney."

"What?" I demand, loud enough to wake Luke too. What the fuck is up with the universe right now?

I rub a hand down my face to try and wake up, and maybe to make sure I'm not dreaming.

"What's going on?" Luke groans.

"Gordon's getting a kidney!" I whisper shout, excited beyond belief.

"Oh, shit." Luke sits up then and stands right up. "We need to go, we need?—"

"No." Gordon interrupts while Luke spins around on the same spot next to his nightstand. "I'll go alone. You need to go to practice after yesterday, and you need to take care of the kids. It's fine." He waves us off like a dumbass. "I'll manage. "

"Uh, no you won't." I stand ready to put my foot down. "Yes, Luke will go to his practice and play the best football he has in his whole life, but I'm going to the hospital with you right now, and we're dropping the kids off at my parents' place. Or..." I muse, turning to look at Luke. "Maybe call my parents to come here in the morning? Their place is a mess right now."

"Yeah, of course, they can stay over if they want, too. But Gordon, I..." Luke trails off.

"I know, son. I want you there with me too, but I'll have your other half with me, right?" Gordon puts a hand on my bare shoulder and squeezes—thank God we put on underwear after our shower, we don't always do that. "It'll be okay, and you can come by this afternoon after you're done with practice."

"Are you sure?" Luke asks with a pained look.

"I'm sure." He nods once then looks at me. "We need to leave in like fifteen. They have to make sure I'm ready and get a million tubes of blood out of me and all that."

"I'll meet you downstairs," I tell him and walk around the bed to Luke. I press right up against my favorite spot, where my face slides perfectly into the crook of his neck and my hands touch at the small of his back. "I'll stay with him all the time I can, I promise."

"And please text me updates."

"Every thirty minutes unless we're sleeping."

"Okay," Luke breathes out. "Okay, you need to pack a bag, and I have to find a way to go back to sleep."

"It'll all be okay," I say as I lean back slightly and look up at him. At his eyes shining with so many emotions they're hard to pin down. Happiness, exhaustion, hope, grief, anger, and love. "We've got this, pretty boy." I kiss him hard and deep, until I need to separate myself from him otherwise I'm not going to leave.