The Cut (31 page)

Inevitably, the idea of suicide surfaced. From a purely logical standpoint, it would work—the payout would guarantee Jeanine and the kids more than twenty million. There was no mention of it in the policy, no out-clause for the rich insurance company and their lawyers to use against her. Dead was dead. In one stroke, they would be out of debt and able to live well for years to come. She would learn from their past financial mistakes. Their money managers would invest well. Hell, she might even meet somebody else in the league and work her way into some
serious
money. She'd be fine. The kids would be fine. They'd have the life they deserved.

And in the end, I would win. Finally, I would win.

But could he bring himself to do it?

*   *   *

Jeanine Reese came through the door with the kids a few hours later. Their son fled to the rec room to play Xbox. Their daughter plopped down on the couch to watch Nickelodeon. She called out to her husband several times but received no answer. She'd been worried about him, but at the same time she'd been trying to give him some space. She'd stopped at the supermarket on the way back, and the cold stuff had to be stored in the fridge. Once that was done, she went on a house-hunt to find him.

She started in the gym in their basement, then the rec room. “Is Daddy down here with you?” she asked her son, who, controller in both hands, only shook his head. Then throughout the first floor. It was odd—she didn't even get a sense of his presence, yet his car was in the driveway.
He's here somewhere
.

On the second floor, the door to the main bathroom was open, as was the door to each of the kids' rooms. The only one closed led to their bedroom. Maybe he was sleeping.

Not wanting to wake him, she opened the door slowly. It was very dark, and unusually cold for early September. Corey had never liked the cold. She had a sudden feeling in her gut that something was not right. She tried to find him in the darkness, but her eyes weren't adjusting fast enough. Just a roomful of shapes and shadows.

She flicked on the light, and that was when she found him—lying on his side.

She shook him once, and he didn't move. Then she spotted the pill bottle on the nightstand. Her heart started pounding. She shook him again … and again.

Trembling, she turned to go back out. There was a phone in the hallway.

Then her husband called out groggily, “Hey.”

She stopped in the doorway and spun around. He was trying to get up on his elbows.

“Sorry, I was out like a light. This pain medication is unbelievable.”

Jeanine Reese laughed once, and a tear rolled down her face.

“By the way, Freddie called before,” he went on, unable to see her clearly. “What do you think about the idea of me in a broadcasting job?”

She thought it was a great idea. So did he.

And life went on.

ALSO BY WIL MARA

The Draft

Wave

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.

An imprint of St. Martin's Press.

THE CUT
. Copyright © 2007 by Wil Mara. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.thomasdunnebooks.com

www.stmartins.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Mara, Wil.

The cut / Wil Mara. —1st ed.

     p. cm.

ISBN-13: 978-0-312-35930-0

ISBN-10: 0-312-35930-6

1. Football stories. I. Title.

PS3613.A725C88    2007

813'54—dc22          2007023710

First Edition: October 2007

eISBN 9781466856417

First eBook edition: September 2013