Game On (17 page)

Troy snuggled a little deeper under the covers so Penny wouldn’t see his nose start to run. She closed the blinds so the room was almost dark. Quietly, she walked around the bed and put the remote on the table beside it.

The lady who’d been at Shane’s house this morning—Carly—turned out to be a lot more welcoming than Troy’s brother. She didn’t try to baby him or touch him like every other lady who’d been around him since his parents died. Instead, she’d made him program her number into his cell phone.

“Whatever you need, whenever you need it, wherever you are, you can call me, okay?” she told him. “You’re never alone as long as I am around.”

Then she’d taken them to the Richardsons’. She said they were her family and he could rest there as long as he wanted. Troy wished they’d taken the big dog with them, but apparently he belonged to the butthead. He could care for a dog but not his own brother. Carly must have thought Shane was being a jerk, too, because she didn’t even say good-bye to him.
Good.
His brother didn’t deserve a girlfriend who was so nice. And pretty.

The Richardsons seemed like a nice family. They teased each other a lot, but it didn’t seem like they actually meant it. Troy had always wanted to have more brothers and sisters to hang out with. Instead, it had just been him and his parents. Now it was just him. He dragged in a deep breath and tried not to think about what happens to kids nobody wants.

Molly was in the hallway arguing with her mother. Troy liked Dr. Richardson. She smelled like a mom and she had a pretty smile—the kind that made you feel like she’d keep you safe always. His stomach hurt as he realized his mom would never smile at him that way again.

The voices grew quieter and Troy tried not to think of his parents as he listened for his new friend. Molly was okay—for a girl. Even now, she was trying to get her mom to let him rest on the sofa in the playroom so they could play Wii some more. He didn’t hear what Dr. Richardson said because they’d moved down the hall. But he could tell Molly was the persistent type. Maybe if he just laid here and watched TV, she’d get her mom to change her mind. He really hoped so, because he didn’t want to be alone.

He turned on the TV and Penny reached over to push the hair off his forehead.

“You’re so much like your brother,” she said.

What a bunch of crap! He didn’t look like that a-hole, Shane. Not at all. Troy looked like his mom. Everyone said so. Shane Devlin was a dick and he hoped he never had to see him again. His stomach clenched again. Troy really had thought his brother would be different. When Shane left his parents’ house late the other night, Troy was sure he’d be back the next day to take him to Baltimore. But he never showed up. Instead, his grandparents told him he was going to Florida with them. Troy didn’t want to live with them. And, deep down, he knew it wasn’t what his parents would have wanted.

He needed a new plan, but his mind was really tired and it was hard to think. Maybe if he just watched a little TV, his stomach would stop hurting. Tomorrow, he’d get Tiny to take him to find Consuelo. She could take care of him until he was eighteen. He didn’t care what that stupid lawyer said. No way was he going to live with his grandparents. And if his jerk-faced brother didn’t want him, he’d live with Consuelo.

If he could find her. He gulped back a sob. Why was this happening to him? How come his brother didn’t want him? This all had to be a bad dream. Maybe if he went to sleep, he’d wake up back in his own house. With his mom and dad and Consuelo.

Penny quietly shut the door as she slipped out. Troy tried to concentrate on the Nickelodeon show he’d seen a thousand times before, but his eyes kept drifting shut.

Fifteen

Later that night Shane slipped into the Jacuzzi in
his master bath and wondered how life could spiral out of control so quickly. His day had been a nightmare from beginning to end. The ninety pounds of petulant twelve-year-old boy the three stooges deposited on his doorstep early that morning proved to be just the beginning.

Once he’d finally arrived at camp, the hordes of media wanted to delve into his feelings about the loss of his father. Shane didn’t bother telling them his feelings for Bruce Devlin weren’t fit to print. Keeping his answers short and sweet, he tried steering the questions back to football.

By mid-morning, he’d finally made it to the practice field. It wasn’t his best showing. His timing was off and he couldn’t quite find his receivers as quickly as he would have liked. Fortunately, everyone cut him a little slack, and Shane wasn’t above using their sympathy to his advantage. He figured it was about time Bruce Devlin played a positive role in his career.

“Things will go better tomorrow,” he said as much to himself as to his teammates as they trotted off the field. Unfortunately, his stint on the practice turf proved to be the highlight of his day.

Lisa Richardson stood on the sidelines waiting for him. Dressed casually in khaki shorts and a golf shirt, a pink ball cap covering the stubble of hair growing on her head, she smiled as he came near. But thanks to the ball cap, he couldn’t tell if the smile reached her eyes. Carly had taken Troy and his posse to her sister’s home earlier that morning. Shane wasn’t sure what reason she’d given Lisa for Troy being with her. But since the family jewels were still firmly attached to his body, he figured whatever excuse she’d given, it didn’t include details of her sleeping arrangements the night before. Or the night before that.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Shane,” Lisa said, falling in step beside him.

Fiddling with the helmet he was holding, he pondered how to best get to the locker room without insulting her. He’d pretty much had it with people’s condolences for the day.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

Lisa was having no trouble keeping up with his stride. He slowed a little, realizing he couldn’t escape the inevitable. Obviously, she’d honed her skills during her marriage to Coach.

“You and Troy seem to be holding up well,” she said as she came to a stop, strategically blocking the entrance to the locker room. “In case you’re wondering, Troy is sleeping at our house. He was exhausted.”

Her tone put him on the defensive. He wasn’t wondering where the kid was. He’d known Carly had left him with Penny. C.J. told him as much when he and Troy’s posse arrived at the training facility for lunch. This was some kind of test, he could feel it. She was baiting him to see how he’d react.

He put on his best Boy Scout smile. “Thank you for that,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting him to arrive this morning. I appreciate everything you and Penny have done for us. It’s been a rough couple of days.” Playing the sympathy card was becoming easier. He didn’t feel like puking when he invoked it anymore.

Lisa cleared her throat. “As a professional counselor, I want to encourage you to seek grief counseling, Shane. The team has people on retainer who can help you through this.”

Is she kidding? Grief counseling!
He wasn’t grieving. The only thing he felt about his father’s death was aggravation. This whole thing with Troy’s guardianship had thrown off his concentration. He needed to get his head back in the game. Furthermore, he needed to get Troy out of Baltimore and firmly ensconced with his grandparents. What he didn’t need was a grief counselor.

“Thank you, Dr, Richardson. I’ll definitely look into that,” he lied. The sooner he got into the locker room, the better.

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a smirk pass over her mouth before she harnessed it. “Good,” she said. “I’m afraid it won’t be as easy with Troy. Of course, you could both go to therapy together.”

Shane felt his whole body tense. He knew where she was going with this and he didn’t like it. He’d survived the loss of his mother without the help of a shrink. If Troy couldn’t, then his grandfather the reverend would be the one to counsel him.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he managed to squeeze out of his clenched jaw. “But where Troy will be living hasn’t been settled yet. His grandparents would like him to live with them. I’m sure they’ll have some idea how to handle his grief.”

“Ahh. I see,” she said, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. Her tone implied she didn’t see at all. The coach’s wife tilted her chin up at him in the same belligerent way her sister did. Shane didn’t like it from either one of them. “In that case,” she continued, “perhaps you want to leave Troy with us until the situation is resolved? We have plenty of room. That way, you’ll be able to get through the next couple of days of mini-camp without being distracted.”

Damn, she was tricky. Tossing out the perfect solution to his problem, she waved it in front of his face like chum before a shark. But he couldn’t take it. He knew it. And so did she. Pasting a smile on his face, hoping it didn’t come off too much like a sneer, he took a step toward the locker room. “That’s very gracious of you. But I think it’s best if he stays with me until we get things settled. But I appreciate the offer.”

She gave him a cheesy smile of her own. Yep, she’d been testing him. And he didn’t care if he’d passed or not. He slipped past her into the locker room before she could answer. Hours later, he was regretting giving in to his conscience. His cell phone rang, snapping him back to the present. He flipped the phone open as he slid farther into the warm water.

“Roscoe, where the hell have you been all day?” he snapped, instantly regretting his tone. His agent was the one person who’d always been there to save his ass. Shane needed an ally to help sort out this mess Bruce had left for him.

“When will you get it through your head that you’re not my only client, Devlin?”

“When you stop charging me like I am,” Shane teased, trying to lighten his tone.

Roscoe chuckled. “You get the family discount, dude, so quit complaining. How’s the hip?”

It hurts like hell!
But Roscoe didn’t need to know that.
“Great. No problems,” Shane said, trying not to slosh the water.

“Really? So you’re in the Jacuzzi at ten o’clock at night because you feel great?”

Shane sighed and sunk into the heat, not bothering to muffle the sound of the water.

“Seriously, dude, do you have hidden cameras installed in here?”

“Hmm, nice idea, but you’re just not that interesting,” Roscoe joked. “It’s just plain intuition. I’ve known you too long.”

“I’ve had a stressful day. I’m just trying to relax before hitting the sack.”

“Is Troy asleep?”

“Yeah, Beckett has appointed himself babysitter for the night.”

Shane was amazed at how quickly the dog had attached himself to the grieving kid. Beckett had provided a nice buffer earlier in the evening. What little conversation the two had was centered around the dog’s care and feeding. It helped Shane to stay detached from the kid. It was best for both of them. Except now, all he could see was the kid’s red-rimmed eyes and his trembling lip, a look of complete desolation on his face. Shane’s chest tightened as he remembered that aching feeling of abandonment. He thought those feelings were long buried. Damn Bruce for making him live through them again.

“How’d you manage to shake the boy’s posse?” Roscoe asked.

“It wasn’t easy. Tiny didn’t want to let him out of his sight. But the other two were getting restless to get back to campus. Evan had a hot date and Dante needed to polish his jewelry,” Shane joked. He took a swig of mineral water.

“From what I gathered, Tiny was a fixture at Bruce’s place,” Roscoe said. “He didn’t get home often, so he spent his holidays with Bruce, Lindsey, and Troy. He’s probably pretty shaken up about their deaths. It would explain his attachment to Troy.”

“Yeah,” Shane said, remembering the devastation on Troy’s face when Tiny and the others drove off. He took another swallow of water. “Well, I’m sure his grandparents will let him invite Tiny for Christmas.”

“Don’t count on it.” Shane sat up in the Jacuzzi, not liking the ominous sound in Roscoe’s voice. “Look, Shane, this situation isn’t going to resolve itself quickly. I finally got a hold of Dave Shapiro, Bruce’s lawyer, late today. He’s adamant that Bruce and Lindsey wanted you to have guardianship of Troy. Apparently, Lindsey was estranged from her parents since the time she married Bruce.”

“Can you blame them?” Shane quipped.

Roscoe sighed. “The grandparents were allowed to see Troy once a year, but only in Pittsburgh. He was never allowed to travel to the church’s compound in Florida. Shapiro says he can’t in good conscience facilitate Troy living with his grandparents. He said to tell you that you’ll have to take him to court to contest the will.”

Shane sucked in a breath. “Christ! Is this guy serious?”

“Oh yeah, he’s serious, Shane. And from some digging I did today, he may be right to keep the kid from the grandparents. They are teetering near bankruptcy. Bruce had a six-million-dollar estate from sales of his motivational book. He and Lindsey weren’t very careful setting up the trust. You’re probably right that they didn’t plan on dying young. Nobody does. They hadn’t gotten around to naming a trustee yet. The money goes with Troy for his guardian to use for his care. According to Shapiro, there’s nothing to stop the grandparents from pouring it all back into the church. The same church that keeps them living the elite life, I might add.”

Shane closed his eyes and swore. He didn’t like the queasy feeling forming in his stomach.

“Apparently, they’ve already dismissed the nanny or housekeeper or whatever Consuelo was. Shapiro says she was in his office yesterday, distraught to be separated from Troy. She’d begun to file her retirement papers with the university, so she could travel with Troy to his grandparent’s home.”

“So now what?” Shane asked the question even though he didn’t want to know the answer.

“Now you have to decide if you want to contest the will. It will be a long, protracted process, Shane. And I don’t have to tell you, you won’t come out smelling too pretty,” Roscoe said.

When Shane didn’t answer, he continued. “There are other options. Troy has enough money to live well. You can hire someone to look after him full-time. Consuelo, perhaps? You wouldn’t have to alter your lifestyle too much.”

Shane found the situation ironic. When his mother died, Bruce Devlin was a homeless junkie. Shane was sent to live on welfare with his grandparents in their double-wide trailer. Troy could afford to live in a palace anywhere in the world.

“Not an option,” Shane said firmly.

Shane wanted to believe his staunch refusal was about him concentrating on his career, on breaking Bruce’s records. But that was only part of the truth. A very small part. If he were being honest with Roscoe, he’d tell him he didn’t have the emotional arsenal to help the kid. What did Shane know about raising a kid, much less nurturing him? He certainly didn’t know a thing about love. His mother checked out when she got cancer, and his dad . . . well, it was common knowledge how that turned out. You had to be loved to give love, and Shane had no experience with that. But Shane wasn’t going to admit that to anyone.

“What’s with you, man? Do you sleep in a coffin or something?”

“If I did, you’d have already read about it in the tabloids.”

“Stop being a smart-ass and talk to me, Shane,” Roscoe pleaded.

When Shane didn’t answer, Roscoe sighed wearily. “Fine,” he said. “Keep your phobias to yourself. The other option is boarding school. He can afford the best.”

Boarding school.
Carly had gone to boarding school, and she’d turned out okay. In fact, the two of them had shared a few laughs last night over her tales of classic dorm pranks and late-night escapades. Christ, had it only been last night since they’d been together? His nerve endings hummed and his body tightened up at the thought of her. Maybe she’d help with the whole boarding school process. She had promised to help out with the kid. Then again, maybe pigs would fly. The tightness in Shane’s chest ratcheted up a notch as he recalled the look of utter regret in her eyes this morning.

“That sounds like the winner,” Shane said. “How long will it take to get him into one?”

Roscoe let out an exasperated huff. “I really have no idea. I’ll get someone working on it tomorrow. You are planning on letting Troy have some say in where he goes, aren’t you?”

“It depends on how black my heart is tomorrow,” Shane said sarcastically.

“You’ve got a freakin’ screw loose, you know that?” Roscoe asked. “You’re punishing an innocent kid for the way your father treated you.”

“I don’t pay you to analyze me, Roscoe. Just find a school for the kid.”

Roscoe let loose a few obscenities before hanging up.

Shane snapped the phone closed and placed it on the tile floor surrounding the Jacuzzi as he leaned his head back against the wall. Roscoe was the second person today to accuse him of punishing Troy for Bruce’s sins. Carly was the first.

Closing his eyes, he could still clearly see her angry face right before she stormed out of his office. It was better this way. It was easier to break it off if she was angry at him. He never should have gotten involved with her in the first place. Hell, a few weeks ago his life had been so simple: make the team, become the starter, and break Bruce’s remaining records. The starting job wasn’t guaranteed. Just today, he’d had to share reps with an undrafted rookie from Idaho. Potato Head had youth on his side, but Shane still knew the game better than any quarterback.

Fooling around with the coach’s sister-in-law, though, likely jeopardized not only his status as starter but also his spot on the team. Yeah, it was definitely better to have her hating him. It seemed something positive had come out of the mess Bruce had left him, after all.

Shane hefted himself out of the Jacuzzi and toweled off. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he went down to the kitchen to set up the coffeemaker for the next morning. On his way, he paused at the door of the guest bedroom to check on his uninvited guest. The kid was sleeping peacefully, one arm tucked under the blanket and the other gripping a tattered pillow he must have brought from home. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks tear stained, but he was finally sleeping peacefully.