Quarterback Keeper (Fall Lake Ballers #1)

Chapter Thirty-One

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

KYLIAN

C ould this day get any worse? I stood at the island across from Melanie Honeycutt. With her index finger—I was surprised it wasn’t her middle one—she pushed her black-rimmed glasses higher on her nose. I’d only opened the door because I was surprised by her appearance. It was a mistake to let her inside, and I knew that by the big envelope she’d slapped onto the counter.

Her blond hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and her black-framed glasses gave her a sexy-librarian vibe. Didn’t matter, though. I felt nothing. All I could picture was what Aurora would look like with her dark-brown hair like that, wearing a pair of those glasses and nothing else. Fuck. Why won’t she get out of my head?

The door opened, and Ares entered. Liam followed, and the door slammed shut behind him. Neither looked pleased at seeing Melanie. That made three of us.

“Saw Aurora at the café.” Ares went to the fridge, ignoring Melanie as he grabbed food to make a sandwich.

I read the disapproval loud and clear. Liam sauntered up to Melanie and threw an arm around her shoulders as he whistled under his breath. “What have we here? You came to see me, didn’t you?”

“Get off me, ape.” Mel shoved at Liam.

He moved aside only because he wanted to. She was more like a gnat trying to move a mountain.

“I have no interest in anyone other than Kylian. And that brings me to why I’m here.” She shot a pointed look at my roommates. “If we could have some privacy, please.”

“This is a mistake.” Liam rapped his knuckles on the island before he headed to the couch and the remote, ignoring Mel’s eye roll. “Make me one, too, Ares.”

“Already did.” Ares grabbed the sandwiches and followed Liam but not before shooting me a disapproving look.

I got it. They were team Aurora, despite everything that’d happened.

“I still don’t know why you’re here, Melanie,” I said.

“Look”—she rubbed her temples, briefly closing her eyes before she pierced me with a direct, no-nonsense hit of whiskey eyes—“you seem intelligent enough for me to lay all the cards on the table. I don’t want to marry you any more than you want to tie your life to mine. But my dad has something on me.”

“What are you talking about?” I focused on her like she was a wide receiver going for a long pass with seconds to throw before a defensive blitz.

She slapped her hand on the manila envelope she’d brought, the sound cutting through the banter between Ares and Liam while they played video games. “This.”

I reached for it, and she snatched it away and cradled it to her chest. “Not so fast, hotshot.”

“What the fuck is it with the stupid names? You’ve been hanging out with my pops, haven’t you?” Red coated my vision. I was so sick of being played by my old man. “Are you sleeping with him? Is that the real problem?”

“Yeah, that’s a hard pass and wrong team altogether.”

“What?” I didn’t follow, and I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers to ease the headache coming on. “Let’s get to the point. You were all over me at the fundraiser.” The reminder of our dads put me over the edge, and I was reaching for any argument I could find. “You come in here guns blazing with wedding prep”—I motioned to her envelope—“for a marriage I have no intention of going through with.”

“Same page.”

I ignored her. “And whatever this is”—I motioned again to the envelope she held protectively to her chest—“you’re now saying you’ve been coerced into the same bullshit relationship that my dad is pushing with me? You’re not making sense, so please, cut the crap and tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ll need something to drink before I unload my life on a stranger.”

“Coffee?” I reached for a pod in the canister on the counter behind me.

She scoffed. “No. Something much stronger. Do you have any Patrón?”

I grabbed a bottle from the corner cabinet along with a lowball glass and handed both to her. I blew out a breath, working to control my irritation. It wasn’t her fault I wished it had been Aurora at the door and was disappointed when it wasn’t. “Thanks for the flowers,” I said, trying to ease some of the tension between us by acknowledging the gesture.

“What?” Her brows furrowed. “I didn’t send you flowers.”

“Huh, never mind.” More manipulation from dear old Dad. He had to have sent them.

She poured two fingers and slung the shot back, her eyes closing as it went down her throat. I saw the appeal. She was gorgeous and connected and would probably make someone a great wife. She would understand the drive to succeed from growing up in a high-power world like she had. But she wasn’t for me. And the more I understood who was, I realized what a fucking dumbass I’d been with Aurora. I should have fought for her, for us.

“Pass that bottle over here, Blondie!” Liam shouted from the couch, a devious grin curving his mouth.

“Get it yourself.” She mumbled something unflattering under her breath that would only be a challenge Liam couldn’t resist if he heard it.

He didn’t really want the liquor. He was just messing with her. I caught the shade my best friends threw our way occasionally while they pretended to be engrossed in their video game. They’d been all over my ass ever since I’d told them everything about what had happened between Aurora and me. And I got it. Mistakes were made. Not only on her behalf—and she had a legitimate reason—but I hadn’t appropriately prepared her for the steamroller that was my dad or listened to her when she’d said she didn’t want anything to go public. And after seeing the consequences of her ex finding her, I understood why.

I was the one at fault and needed to rectify things between us. If I didn’t, I could lose her for good, which scared me more than losing my shot at an NFL career.

Mel snapped her fingers in front of my face, and I growled at her. I wanted her out of here. “What?”

“If we want a way out of this, I need you to pay attention.”

I caught her mumbling, “Fucking football players,” and narrowed my eyes.

“Then get to it, so you can get the fuck out,” I said.

After another eye roll, she set the envelope in front of her but kept her palm over it, French-manicured fingernails spread wide. “My dad is a right-wing extremist. He doesn’t believe in abortions, gay marriage rights, or anything liberal. That being said, he’s deeply ashamed of my preferences?—”

“Which are not men.” I’d finally caught on to her problem. It seemed I wasn’t the only one being played by a parent.

“Exactly.” She splashed a finger of tequila into the glass and swirled it around before downing it in one gulp.

“What does he have as leverage to get you to marry me?”

“My trust fund.” Her full lips turned down, and she looked like someone had just kicked her puppy. “I was playing along because it’s a lot of money. And I thought I could deal with his crazy scheme, marry you?—”

“As your beard!” Liam shouted from the living room.

Melanie sent a sneer Liam’s way. “And continue my life however I wanted. But… it’s not worth my happiness.”

“Just your happiness?” Banked anger burned hot under my skin, but I refused to give it free rein. I sensed a solution to our problems, and I supposed it was in the envelope she’d brought.

“Fine. You, too, I guess.”

Ares snorted.

“I don’t know you, like, at all, so your feelings haven’t factored in as much as my messed-up dilemma.”

I glanced at my nosy roommates, who weren’t even pretending to play their video game anymore. Frankly, I could use the support. “Let’s go in the other room.” I left the kitchen to join them, and she had no choice but to follow.

“So, you’re willing to ruin his life for access to your trust fund?” Liam started immediately.

“I’m guessing your girlfriend isn’t too happy about it,” Ares said. “Bet you can kiss that relationship goodbye.” He tossed a handful of salted almonds into his mouth.

“Maybe she isn’t worth it to you, but Kylian’s fiancée is, and you’ve been fucking that up ever since you forced your way into his life.”

I mentally high-fived Liam for that. “Why not hire a lawyer for the trust? You might be able to fight him and get it released.”

“That’s what my girlfriend said. Since Samantha is a paralegal, she has access to high-powered attorneys who can answer some questions. I’ve asked her to look into it, but in the meantime, I wanted to fill you in on what I know about our dads and what’s driving them to push for this marriage.”

“What do you know that I don’t?” I was all ears.

“Our dads’ campaign and development deal of the century is based on that old saying, ‘Keep your enemies close.’”

“They’ve done business together before.” It was starting to make sense. “I didn’t know they had a development deal in the works.”

“Yes, on both counts. The business they were previously involved in was a shady deal from about twenty years ago. They were business partners and scammed their investors out of millions of dollars when the deal went belly-up. It was almost a scandal, and my father paid a boatload in hush money.”

“So that’s why they’re both pushing so hard on the marriage. It connects them on another level.”

“That’s a warped viewpoint,” Ares injected. “Thinking that marrying you two will keep the other in check.”

“Exactly,” Mel answered. “But their egos must think it’ll work.”

“Sounds like they’re cut from the same cloth.” Liam leaned back on the couch, his arm extending along the cushions.

“That works in our favor. If they don’t recognize that they’re the same person, we can leverage the information against them. We have it, right?” I tapped the envelope, and her fingers curled tightly around the edges.

“We do.”

“I’ll need to see that.”

She shrugged. “I’ll show you, but I’m keeping the original copy. It’s my insurance to fight against him. I’m only letting you in on it so you can do the same on your end. I don’t know what your dad has over your head, but it must be just as bad, if not worse, for you to agree to their scheme.”

I wasn’t going to share about my mom. I nodded instead. “He’s got enough leverage to work with.”

She flipped the envelope and lifted the flap before pulling out several papers. “This shows the business name”—she tapped her nail against the appropriate place—“here. You can see both of their signatures. If you follow the shell company’s history, that’s where things get more interesting. I have digital copies of as much as I could find, some from the internet.”

“What will you do with it?” My mind raced, and a plan began to form. But I wouldn’t do anything until I talked things over with Mom.

“I’m still deciding. It might depend on what Sam finds out from the trust lawyer she’s been talking with for me. I need bank statements, an account, something, and I don’t have it. What I have is damning enough, but will it take them down for good?” She shoved the papers back into the envelope then stood. “All I ask is that you keep me posted, and I’ll do the same.”

I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. “I want copies.”

She handed over the envelope. “That’s what these are. I wanted to make sure you were as invested in stopping them as I am before I gave them to you.”

“Trust me, I’m all in, and I’ll keep you updated. I might be able to find the missing data we need.” I walked her out then turned to find smirks mirrored on Ares’s and Liam’s faces.

It was Ares who spoke, saying what we all thought. “She handed you a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“Take advantage of it, and go get your girl.” Ares slapped me on the back.

They weren’t kidding. If my dad had any hold over Aurora, this was my chance to obliterate it. “Oh, trust me, I will, but after I talk with Mom and get her the hell out from under his thumb too.” And maybe even gain access to additional evidence.

I spent the drive to Mom’s thinking about the best course of action, and what made the most sense was a turnabout—blackmail. The worst-case scenario would mean handing over everything Mel had to the Federal Trade Commission or whatever branch of government handled fraudulent businesses.

I’d called to ensure Mom was home and hurried up the stairs as soon as I found a spot to park. She let me in at the first knock, worry clouding her eyes.

“What’s this about? You sounded angry on the phone. Did you reinjure your shoulder?”

“No.” I rotated it, feeling only a tinge of tightness. “It’s about Dad.”

Mom huffed out a breath, and her shoulders dropped. “Okay, let’s talk about it.”

We sat on the worn sofa, and I filled her in about everything. From the fundraiser and threats to do what he wanted or she would suffer when it came to both her living arrangements and the money needed for treatments to the pressure to marry Melanie Honeycutt that would only further his career. I finished with the information Mel had shown me.

“I’m tired of being beholden to him. Will you please move into the condo next to mine? I have enough to put a down payment on it, and when the NFL signs me”— because dammit, I would be on a team —“I’ll pay it off.”

“Okay.”

I leaned back, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s time. I shouldn’t be here if everything comes crashing down around him. And I have a feeling it will.”

“You didn’t seem surprised about anything I told you.”

“I was about Melanie. I can’t believe he would stoop to that level to control Honeycutt. But about the business dealings, I’m not. I have copies of the paperwork and offshore bank statements. I’ve used it all these years to make your father behave.”

A feeling of determination and satisfaction spread through me because I knew exactly what to do.