Page 52 of Golden Rule

“Your fucking shoulder!” he whispers, but he may as well have just yelled that shit.

“Youdoknow that if you keep pretending there isn’t an issue, if you keep pushing and avoiding going back to PT or whatever the hell needs to be done to fix this, it’s not justyouwho loses, right? It’s the team, it’s the three of us, because we all know this entire city is watching. The whole fuckingcountry,” he adds, pissing me the hell off because he’s right.

Everyoneiswatching.

“Figure that shit out,” are his parting words, and I’m left staring at his and Dane’s backs as they walk off without me.

I’m not in the mood to argue, but they couldn’t even begin to understand the pressure I’m under—to unify this team, to showCoach he made the right move, to show this city that I’m more than the person Pandora has them allthinkingI am.

Some fuck-up who’s just like his father.

But Sterling’s right about one thing. The weight of this entire acquisition rests on my shoulders.

Literally.

I take a breath as my brother’s griping words linger with me. And when I peer up, I have Reed’s attention, which means he likely saw that whole thing play out. Including the part where I grabbed my shoulder after Sterling slammed into me. There’s this smirk and look of intrigue set on Reed’s face. A dark, menacing look that tells me all I need to know.

That he’s just been made aware of the one thing I hoped to keep off his radar, and thanks to Sterling’s piss-poor timing, this dickhead now smells blood in the water.

Just what I fucking need.

Chapter Fifteen

Blue

April: Hey, Babe! Sorry to text so late. CRAZY busy day. Couldn’t go to bed without checking on you two, though. Reed said West wasn’t looking so good after the team workout this morning. Something about his shoulder, I think? Anywho, I’m here if you need me…

I toss my phone to the nightstand, glaring at it. Screw Aprilandher fake sympathy. We both know she’d want nothing more than for her husband to be back in his old spot as the Emperors’ QB1.

Those of us who have brains and are fully functioning adults know not to take moves pro teams make personally. It’s always business, and it’s always what’s in the best interest of the team. Does it suck sometimes? Yes. But we pick ourselves up, get our heads back in the game, and move forward.

Well, everyone except the Lawsons, apparently.

I don’t need this shit. It’s been a weird day, and honestly? All I want is to fall asleep and start over. The meeting with the realtor wentincrediblywell, but when I got home this afternoon, it was like the high I was riding on completely died the moment I laid eyes on West—seated poolside with a bag of ice on his shoulder.

It was like déjà vu.

Seeing him hurt, the dark place it takes him, even the look on his face was the same then as it is now—a look of dread.

Like he sees some dark version of the future and it terrifies him.

I managed to get part of the story out of him, but only bits and pieces. I know Coach Wells asked him to lead the team’s workout session, and I know it ended with him and Reed going at it, aggravating West’s shoulder. So much that, even as he comes to bed tonight, it’s still red and swollen.

As I turn off the light on my nightstand, we’re silent. Like we’ve been all day. I’ve given him space to process and sulk, but there’s a conversation to be had, and it may not be pleasant. Which is why baby-stepping my way into it seems like the best approach.

“I talked to your mom today.” I hold my breath as we lie in the darkness, our backs to one another.

“Yeah, I figured she’d try you,” he grumbles. “I missed her when she called around noon, and I never got around to calling back.”

Thatisn’t like him. He’s always been so protective of his mother. Growing up, he kind ofhadto be that way, but that aspect of their relationship didn’t change when he became an adult. But now that she’s halfway around the world, touring Europe with her new boyfriend we’ve never met, West didn’t even bother picking up the phone to make sure she’s okay.

“How is she?”

I clear thoughts of worry from my head when he speaks, hoping to make my response seem as lighthearted as possible. Easier said than done with how strained things have been between us today.

“Fine. She just wanted to check in. I brought her up to speed on everything—the new house, our decision about continuing treatment, the building I found.”

I pause there, wondering if that last part will jar him at all, but… nothing. I’ve waited all day for him to ask how my meeting went with Rebecca, our realtor, but it’s like he’s so distraught, so focused on what happened at the training facility that it’s all he has room to think about.

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