Page 134 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
“You were a lot more certain than I was. It was hard to see past all the crap I was dealing with at home.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Yeah, I guess you do. And look at you now. You did everything you set out to do. I’m so… God, I’m so happy for you. Elijah Reid would be so proud of you.”
He bit the corner of his mouth. “A few months ago, I went back to my old neighborhood.”
“How’d that go?”
He shook his head. “It was harder than I expected. I must have blocked a lot from my memory, but when I walked down the streets I used to hang out on and saw the places where my mom and I lived, everything came rushing back. All those times when I went hungry and just all the shit I dealt with. I walked down the street where Elijah was shot, and I stood in that same spot. And it felt like it all just happened yesterday.” He glanced out the window. “I went to see Elijah’s mom. But I fucked up.”
“What happened?”
“Elijah always said he would build his mom a house and buy her a Mercedes Benz when he got rich.” He laughed a little. “Used to tell her she’d be walking around in Gucci and diamonds. So I…” He winced, and I had a feeling I knew where this was headed. “I knocked on her door and handed her the keys to a Mercedes.”
“Oh god. What did she do?”
“She pretty much told me to fuck off. But then she cooled down, and she said that if I really wanted to help, I should donate the money to charity.”
“And did you?”
He nodded. “I donated it to the youth center where we learned to play football. Eventually, I’d like to do more to help. Maybe set up a foundation for at-risk kids and teach them to play football. Help keep them off the streets and make sure they have food and clothes. Something like that.”
“That would be amazing.”
He nodded. “When I signed my contract, I was thinking, damn, this is a shitload of money. Never thought I’d be so rich.” He laughed. “But Gideon gave me some good advice. He said to save everything I make. Especially for my rookie contract. Because you never know when it will all end. I could have a career-ending injury or get cut from the team. Nothing is guaranteed.”
“So you didn’t buy a fancy racecar and a penthouse in New York?” I teased.
He chuckled. “Nope. I don’t even live in New York. I rent an apartment in Jersey City about six miles from the training facility.”
“What’s it like being an NFL player?”
“It’s humbling,” he said with a laugh. “I showed up for pre-season training thinking I was hot shit. I was feeling pretty damn cocky.”
“That doesn’t sound like you,” I joked.
He snorted. “Yeah. It was a wake-up call. I wasn’t in college anymore. Got knocked down a few pegs. I wasn’t even a starter. I only got a few plays the whole season.”
“You made some good plays, though.”
“Yeah? And how would you know?”
“I might have watched a game or two.”
His brows rose. “A game or two?”
“All of them,” I admitted.
“You watched my games?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“How could I not?”
Ridge let that one go. “And what did you think?” He sounded so unsure, as if my opinion mattered to him.
I’d forgotten that about Ridge. He always appeared so confident, with all that swagger and bravado, but he still needed reassurance. Ridge and I were so alike that way. Deep down, we never truly believed we were good enough. We were the products of our shitty childhoods, and some things were so deeply ingrained in your psyche that I wasn’t sure they’d ever go away. “I thought… look at Ridge fly. And I mean that literally. Nobody plays like you do, Ridge.Nobody.”
“You’re biased.”
