Page 59 of Power Play

Coach’s eyes are as big as saucers, his lips parted, as he looks back and forth from both sides of the table.

“Lo…I’m…I’m so—” Thad whimpers, but Coach slams his fists down on the dining room table. He stands up from his chair so fast it flips backward, and he leans down in Thad’s face.

“I’m not gonna ask you if it’s true,” he says, “because I believe my daughter. And right now, there isn’t a whole lot stopping me from killing you with my bare fucking hands, Dietrich.”

His voice is so calm it’s almost eerie. It’s how you know he means it.

“Hang on, Pop,” Tyson says, reaching up and grabbing his arm. He leans down and picks up Coach’s chair, motioning for him to sit back down. “There are a few items of business we need to take care of first.”

He reaches into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He pulls a pen out of his other pocket. Then he looks at me, and I slide my phone across the table again so it’s in line with the paper.

“This,” Tyson says, tapping my phone, “is the recording we have of you at the club with Levi, telling the whole damn story, Thad. Admitting to the whole damn thing. This,” he says, pointing to the paper, “is the letter you’re going to sign, saying that you sign away all parental rights of your daughter to Lola.”

Thad’s eyes widen.

“My…did you say my…” he says. I watch his eyes move back and forth, a thousand miles a minute, then he looks up at Lo. “She’s…she’s mine?”

“I told you not to fucking look at her,” I growl again.

“No, Thad,” Lo says. “She’s not yours. You took something from me, but you gave her to me. And I will die before I let you anywhere near her.”

Tyson crosses his arms over his chest.

“Once you sign this,” he goes on, “you’ll tell your agent and your publicist. You’ll want to make sure you have a good statement ready for when you tell the Drafting Committee. This will be all over the news. The NFL can decide how they want to handle it. But you’re a fucking predator, Dietrich. And you’re not stepping out onto the world’s stage with access to the world’s women on our watch—not without the world knowing who you really are.”

“And if you don’t,” I chime in, “then this recording gets sent to every major news outlet in the country. I will give it to my publicist. I will give it to my neighbor. I will give it to every fucking human that I can. And we will have the DNA test results to prove the kid is yours. We’re just giving you a chance to do it yourself, Dietrich.”

Tyson pushes the paper and pen forward. Thad swallows, a single tear rolling down his face. Slowly, he picks up the pen and opens it. He takes the paper, signs it, and closes the pen. He looks at Coach, who is staring straight ahead.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Dietrich,” he says. “If I ever see you again, I swear to God, I’ll kill you where you stand.”

Thad walks out of the house slowly, without saying another word. And as soon as the front door closes, Lo lets out a sob that I know she’s been holding in since he stepped foot inside. I reach for her, wrapping her in my arms, holding her head to my chest. Tyson rubs her back as she cries, and I look over at Coach, who has a tear in his own eye, his fists still clenched on the table. He stands up slowly and walks toward us. Tyson and I both back away, and he scoots Lo’s chair out. She wipes her tears and looks up at him. He kneels down in front of her, wiping her tears. He pulls her up from her chair, then he sits down. He pulls her onto his lap and cradles her like a child, and they both cry.

I nod to Tyson, and we both slip out the back door.

A few minutes later, Coach comes outside, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his shirt stained with tears.

“Boys,” he says, and Tyson and I both sit at attention. “I just…uh…I just want you both to…I just want to thank you both for being there for her. For doing what you did for her. For all of us.” His lip quivers, and I feel my own throat get tight. “I asked Tate to keep Harper for the night. Lo needs to rest. Levi, I think it would be good if you could stay the night here tonight. She’s pretty shaken up.”

I nod.

“Of course, Coach,” I say.

“I have some more questions,” Coach says, “but not tonight. Maybe another day.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Pop,” Tyson says. We tell him goodnight, and he slips into the house. Tyson pulls me in for a hug as we both stand.

“Thanks for loving her like you do, Buck,” he says. Then he disappears around the side of the house.

I take a deep breath, then I head inside. I check that the front door is locked, and then I slip my shoes off and creep up the steps to her room like I did all those years ago. I knock on her door gently.

“Yes?” she says. I push the door open, and she looks at me, surprised. “I thought you might have left.”

I smile at her, looking as beautiful as ever, her hair wild, her eyes swollen. I want to kiss them until she falls asleep. I take my jacket off and set it on her desk chair.

“I’m not leaving tonight,” I tell her. Her eyebrows knit together. “Your dad’s idea.”

She nods slowly.

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