Quarterback Keeper (Fall Lake Ballers #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

KYLIAN

S everal days passed while I was stuck in the hospital. Everything I’d worked for was gone. Dark despair hung like a heavy mantle on my shoulders. Football had been my world, my end game, how I’d coped with things. And it was gone. Or that was what the doc said. Fuck that—I’ll prove him wrong.

My mind wrestled with the potential loss of my future, the inability to protect my mom from my father, and the reality of Gia’s situation. Where is she?

I felt as if I were underwater, drowning. My mind tried to swim through the murky, heavy depth of each failure that had brought me to my current state—the inability to protect Gia and Mom. Then there was that other thing.

I always knew Gia was holding something back, and I should have pressed her to find out what. I’d wanted to help her. I understood why she’d withheld her past from me, even if I didn’t like it. But if I’d known what she’d faced, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up in a fucking hospital bed, after surgery, missing out on the Alabama game and who the hell knew how many more.

I’d needed that game. My mom needed it. Now that I’m red-shirted, how the hell will I get the money for her treatments and get out from under my dad’s thumb?

Injuries like mine had the potential to end careers. The doc’s prediction wouldn’t leave my head. He’d said that the tear to my right rotator cuff could cause a considerable problem with mobility if it didn’t heal correctly, and he was worried it might not. Then there was the puncture wound to my kidney, which they’d had to do emergency surgery on to save my life. The shoulder injury shouldn’t cost me football, but it could. He was wrong—I would play again, better than before. I couldn’t let the setback stop me from helping my mom when she needed me the most.

ESPN had reported my injury and surgery, sharing it far and wide to all coaches’ and scouts’ ears. I was achingly aware of the potential reduction in the contract value I would receive when I came back—and I would—if I even got picked up by a team.

And Gia— no, Aurora —had suffered at that asshole’s hands too. Bile climbed my throat at the thought of him abusing her. Relief and pride had filled me at the sight of her falling to her knees to help me while I sat there in a pool of blood.

But what she’d said about me meaning nothing to her had gotten into my head. Even if it had been an attempt to save me. I’d trusted her with everything I cared about most, but she didn’t trust me enough to give me her real name. And she’s not here. Did she ever care about me, or was I just a means to an end?

The weight of my mom’s fate was my priority, especially when my future lay in shambles around me. Because it wasn’t only mine—it was my mom’s ticket to health and freedom too.

I had a long road ahead of me with physical therapy and doing everything my docs said. Four to six months was the timeline. The doc said six. I would prove him wrong and do it in four.

I knew my head wasn’t on straight, and maybe I wasn’t thinking clearly. But I knew how to achieve exactly one thing, and that was getting back in the game. I had to become a machine, solely focused on recovery.

Once I was back on the field, I would have to prove myself with a consistency I hadn’t needed to worry about as much before. There would be no signing before the combine, not after my injury. I would have to get an invite to the combine and prove to the NFL teams that I had what it took to be a first-round draft pick.

“Stop it,” Mom said, jolting me out of my dark thoughts.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I’d growled the words at her, and an instant wave of guilt hit me. She didn’t deserve my bitterness. I had no right to take my emotions out on her. Or Aurora.

“Why? Because I spend too much time in the hospital already? I’m here, Kylian, and I’m not going away. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, and be the man I raised you to be.”

Fuck. She raised me. I got the message loud and clear, and I turned my head and flashed her what I hoped was a convincing smile. Dad was in the waiting room, pandering to the press he’d allowed to accompany him. The hospital wouldn’t let them near my room, but they didn’t stop the circus going on not far from it. Nor did they stop the giant flower arrangement, courtesy of Melanie, then Dad’s text scolding me for not letting her—my future wife, according to him—in to see me.

Dad was using me again. My misfortune generated headlines, and with my connection to Danbury Wilder, he was getting even more coverage, which only helped his campaign. The dull pain in my shoulder went ignored. I blocked as much of the bullshit from my dad as I could because Mom was right—she’d raised me. Not him. And she taught me not to wallow, or at least not for long. I had to pick myself back up and get to work. I had drive in spades, and nothing would stop me from achieving my goals.

“Ah, there he is.” Mom’s voice had softened as she stared at me, and the smile curving her mouth made her look younger than the disease ravaging her body usually allowed. Some color had returned to her face, even if her shoulder-length brown hair still looked dull. “He worked a miracle on your kidney and expects a full recovery. Focus on that. The damage to your shoulder wasn’t as bad as it appeared. Don’t listen to the general surgeon’s worst-case scenario. You know the orthopedic doctor’s prognosis is favorable. I know you. You’ll overcome this. You’ll miss games this year, but you still have your senior year and the combine then.”

“It’s not good enough. I need to be out there sooner. I’ll use some of the money left from Grandad’s trust for PRP injections.”

Aurora had released me from the contract’s terms the night before the fight with her ex. It felt wrong in the back of my mind, but I needed the money. I could help her in other ways. She would have a place to stay and my dad off her back, and I would make sure the fridge was stocked. And somehow, I would figure a way out of the Melanie deal so no obstacles would stop me from being with Aurora.

“Platelet-rich plasma injections might not get you there faster. But”—Mom sighed—“I support your decision. However, you’re not going to use your trust fund. I’ll talk to your father. He’ll pay for that and stop pressuring you to do whatever stupid scheme he’s concocted.”

She must have seen the doubt written all over my face because when she squeezed my hand, that steely determination that colored so much of my childhood blazed from her eyes. If Mom wanted something to happen, she always made sure it did. I just hoped whatever plan she was cooking in that brain of hers wouldn’t cause her body additional stress and a relapse.

“When do you speak to your docs?” Mom asked.

She’d had great news when I’d woken from surgery. And it was something that made me even more determined to fight for her and my dreams. Her terminal cancer was responding to the new treatment and shrinking. Her body was going into remission. She still had more treatments to undergo. We had bills to pay and living expenses to worry about. But for the first time, I had a hope that she might survive.

“Later this week,” I said. “But don’t worry about any of that. We got a win. We’re going to focus on that and your recovery.”

Mom’s phone rang, and she squeezed my hand, whispering that it was her doctor’s office and she would be back in a minute.

I clicked through a few channels on the TV until finally settling on a game show, and then a soft knock sounded. Everything in me relaxed when I spotted Aurora through the small window in the door.

“Hey.” Relief at seeing her batted some of the darkness away, letting a sliver of sunlight warm my foggy brain. “Are you okay? I thought you were right behind the ambulance.” Three days ago. It was ten in the morning, and I couldn’t figure out what had detained her, but I’d been worried something had happened.

“Yeah, I-I’m sorry.” She offered a shaky smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I wanted to see you, but your family was here, and I didn’t want to intrude. Not after everything that happened.”

“What are you talking about? I wanted you to come.” My hand closed around hers, needing the anchor because she was acting strange. That same vibe from the beginning, when she would run rather than talk to me, emanated from her.

“I need to tell you something.” She sniffed and yanked her hand free to swipe at her eyes. “I was scared. Desperate. But the truth is, I used you, and I can’t keep doing that. I never should have gotten involved with you. I should have left when you found me on your boat and never made that deal.”

I was stunned into silence. My world was already uncertain, thanks to my injuries, and I could barely process her words.

She trembled as she slid my engagement ring from her finger and turned my hand over to press it into my palm. My fingers closed around it automatically, the diamond biting into my flesh.

“I’m sorry.” She choked on the words, whirled around, then fled from the room.

Stunned, I lay there, staring after her, unable to do a thing about her leaving. She never cared about me? Her words repeated through my head until I finally put two and two together. I might never play football again. It made sense. Her saying she didn’t care at this precise moment. She must have found out about the doc’s prognosis. He would have told her, since she was my fiancée.

The door opened slightly. Mom called after Aurora, then the door shut without coming in. Muffled voices filtered through. Trapped in the hospital bed, I had to endure parts of her speech all over again.

Seconds passed of blissful silence, then Mom entered my room, and I turned away, not wanting to see the sympathy in her gaze.

“I’m sorry, Kylian.”

I made the mistake of looking at her, and she winced.

Her hand curled around mine. “I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”

My gut churned. It wasn’t a misunderstanding. My growing concern had been right—she’d used me. Aurora had never loved me or felt any of the things that I had for her. I was a fool. I was tired of the games. I’d been played, but Mom needed to know everything so she could let go of Aurora too.

“It’s not a misunderstanding. I need to tell you something.” I met her eyes, letting her witness the truth in mine, no matter how painful. I was done with the lies. “Our relationship was fake. I got her to go along with it because she needed a place to stay and my boat was an easy solution for that.” I explained the contract, the business agreement we had. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to give you everything you wanted so you wouldn’t have to worry about me.” When you leave. I couldn’t say that part. I didn’t know if I ever could.

“Oh, Kylian.” Mom sighed, sadness flooding her eyes. “I only wanted to know you would be happy after I left. That you had someone to take care of and love you. I didn’t mean to put so much pressure on you, and for that, I’m so very sorry. But?—”

Another knock sounded, and a spike of irritation shot through me at the interruption. I clenched my jaw before I lashed out at whoever the visitor was.

A man entered, his gaze skimming over me then latching onto Mom. Interest sparked in his eyes, and a crooked grin curved his lips. It was enough to distract me from how my world was crumbling around me.

“Detective Lancaster.” Mom’s voice held a smile that was impossible to ignore.

I whipped my head around and narrowed my eyes. What the heck? I looked from her to the detective and noted something between them that I wasn’t sure how to feel about. Mom was gorgeous, even while knocked down by illness. I shouldn’t be surprised that the detective had noticed, but witnessing her positive response to the attention was oddly uncomfortable.

“How can I help you, Detective?” I’d already talked with him and his partner after surgery. The entire story of finding Dayton on the boat, the gun, our fight, and Aurora saying she pushed him into the lake had been relayed. I couldn’t imagine what else he required.

“I wanted to stop by and give you an update.”

“How nice of you to do that,” Mom said.

So strange. My gaze darted between the two again. Mom was blushing.

“Yes, thanks. Did you find him?”

“No, not entirely. We haven’t recovered the body yet. But we did locate a torn piece of his clothing twisted around a boat’s propeller that Aurora identified as the shirt he was wearing. And the DNA from the finger we found matches Dayton’s. We hope to recover the rest of him soon, since no one around the accident site saw a man emerge from the water. If he did survive, we’ll find him. Aurora Mason, who also uses the alias Gia Mason, gave a statement about Dayton, including his last name and address.”

“Okay.” I wanted him to hurry up. Besides, I’d already spilled about Aurora’s name.

The doc would be making rounds soon, and I needed to get a plan in place about when physical therapy would begin and how soon they thought I could return to the field for practice. It was important if I wanted to beat the tentative date for best-case circumstances they’d given me—by a lot. That was what I had to focus on. Recovery. Returning to the field better than ever. And helping Mom. Not a girl who never cared for me. Who only pretended to in order to use me.

The ring bit into my palm. The harder I worked, the less I would think about Aurora.

“We have every reason to believe that Dayton Vanderbilt is dead. If he did manage to survive, from what Aurora has told us, we don’t think you would be in any further danger from him.”

“But?” I knew I wouldn’t like his answer because I still felt compelled to protect Aurora—that hadn’t died, even if she didn’t have feelings for me.

“Aurora could be if we don’t locate him or his body. But we’re doing everything we can to find him.”

“And put him behind bars?” Mom snapped, echoing my thoughts.

Gone were the flirty looks. She’d returned to that ferocious mama-bear persona I’d experienced my whole life. It was only her sickness that had quelled it, which was why I’d worked so hard to protect her from Dad.

“Yes, if he’s alive, that’s the plan.” Detective Lancaster nodded. “I’ll let you get your rest, but please call me if you think of anything else or have questions.”

Mom waited until the detective left, then she pounced. “I don’t believe everything was fake between you and Aurora. Nor do I believe that she doesn’t care about you and wants to break things off.”

“Mom, I can’t?—”

“Maybe not right now, Kylian, but you must face how you feel about her. And if you love her, fight for her. No matter the lies she told to protect herself, she’s a good person.” She brushed some hair back from my forehead. “And so are you.”

“I love you, Mom. And I know Aurora’s a good person.” But what we had wasn’t real, even if Mom seemed to think it was.

“Back to your relationship being pretend. I’m not buying it. You care for each other. It could be that Aurora broke things off because of guilt, or that she’s afraid her presence will bring you more harm.”

My mind argued that I was a fool, that Aurora’s part was an act and I had the proof in the form of a diamond in the palm of my hand. Everything had been built on a lie, which had only snowballed from there.

“You need to look at her actions.”

“Mom—”

“Please try to keep an open mind. I hope you both work things out because I know how you feel about her. I witnessed it, and you can’t lie to me. I just don’t want you to throw this away.”

“I’m furious.” About her returning the ring, but I couldn’t vocalize that. It was too painful. Instead, I used the obvious to hide my pain. “She didn’t tell me the truth. About who she was, about her crazy ex-boyfriend. I would have been more aware. And while I was busy falling for her, she still didn’t care enough to tell me. And that’s fucking killing me.” And that was before I realized I was just a meal ticket that could no longer pay off.

“Did you tell her how you felt?”

I scowled in response.

Mom laughed. “Despite what men think, we’re not mind readers. Cut her some slack.” She rested her hand on my arm. “Maybe you should ask yourself why you’re so angry with her, and if that doesn’t work, you should ask her why she didn’t tell you everything. She has a valid reason, and you won’t know until you talk to her.”

Those words haunted me as the days bled together in a series of PRP injections and physical therapy. I worked my ass off, but the reason that had put me in the hospital was never far from my mind. Twelve days had passed, and the cops still hadn’t found the fucker, if he was, in fact, dead.