The Quarterback Sneak (12 page)

A banging knock at his apartment door jolted Liam
awake. The spot beside him was empty of Hayden’s lovely form. He
glanced at the clock. 3:00 a.m. Who the hell could it be?

He jumped out of bed, slid into a pair of
sweatpants, and then heard a muffled male voice. A former
boyfriend? A current one? No, that was the late hour talking. He
took a calming breath before jealousy overrode his good sense.
Hayden had never given him any reason to suspect she’d been
unfaithful.

Stepping into the hallway, he listened to
the voices coming from the living room. Liam didn’t like to
eavesdrop, but Hayden was his wife and, while her business was her
business in the light of a day, at 3:00 a.m. it was his.

“Harry, it’s the middle of the night.” she
said. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

Liam rested his forehead on the wall in
relief. Not a former boyfriend, just her pompous younger brother.
Before the wedding, Liam had only met him a couple of times, but
each encounter had left a bitter taste in his mouth. His opinion of
Harry hadn’t improved. A sense of entitlement radiated from the
spoiled brat.

“You have to help me,” Harry told his
sister.

“What happened this time?” Hayden asked.

In a rush, Harry explained his car had been
impounded for outstanding tickets. Of course that wasn’t the worst
of it—five grams of cocaine would most likely be discovered at any
moment. Harry wanted his sister to take the fall. Again?

“We’ll say you borrowed my car to avoid the
press. It worked the last time.”

What last time?
Had Hayden covered
for her brother last year? She’d spent three months in rehab and
completed a hundred hours of community service for that
conviction.

“I can’t do it Harry. I just got off of
probation. I’ll go to jail.”

“You have to. You’ll get away with it. You
always do. Judge Mayer loves you now that you married choirboy
McQueen.”

Liam clenched his fists, fighting the urge
to pommel her brother. Stepped out of the shadows, he said, “You
heard her the first time. The answer is no.”

H
ayden’s heart stopped at
the protective but fierce expression on Liam’s face.

In a scathing tone, Harry said, “This is
none of your concern. Family only.”

She’d never seen such a hateful look from
Harry. Her eyes widened in shock. Where was her sweet little
brother?

Before Hayden could blink an eye, Liam had
placed himself between them. “I’m her husband. That makes me
family.”

“That’s what you think,” Harry snarled.

“What does that mean?” She took Liam’s hand.
That he considered them family gave her hope. Perhaps their
marriage was more than a sham.

Harry took a step toward her, stumbling over
his words. “You didn’t even want him on the team, never mind in
your bed. He’s a loser, remember?”

“Liam, I—”

“That not breaking news.” He patted her
hand. “The fact that you’ve covered for your brother’s ass is.”

“Not anymore.” For the first time she saw
her little brother for what he was—a drug addict. “Harry, I’ll be
there to support you, but I won’t enable you any longer. You need
professional help. Rehab.”

His lip curled into a sneer. “Look at you,
all high and mighty. You get a ring and now you’re
Suzie-fucking-homemaker.”

Hayden’s eyes watered. Her brother had never
lashed out like that at her. It must be the drugs.

“You will not talk to your sister like
that.”

She was glad Liam was here. In the business
world she was known as a piranha, but when it came to her brother,
she was like a protective mama bear.

“You’ll regret not helping me.” Harry headed
to the door. “You both will.”

“Harry—” But the door slammed before she
could reason with him. “My father is going to be livid.”

“But not with you.”

“Yes, with me.” Hayden folded her arms.
“He’ll accuse me of being a bad influence on my brother. I gave him
his first beer. Introduced him to the club scene.”

“Like he wouldn’t have done those things on
his own? Even if that were true, Hayden, your brother is an adult.
He’s responsible for his own choices.”

“My father doesn’t see it that way.”

“He doesn’t know what you did for Harry. Why
did you take the fall for him?”

“With those angelic looks? He would not
survive jail.”

“And you would?”

“Better me than him.” She shrugged. “My
father will be devastated. He loves Harry.”

“Hayden, he loves you too.”

“Whatever.” No matter what she accomplished,
she’d never been the apple of her father’s eye. Even knowing
football inside and out hadn’t impressed him. Harry was the golden
child. The favorite.

“No, not whatever,” Liam said. “Do you know
what your father told me when I argued that our engagement would
hurt the team’s chances for a Championship run?”

Fearing Liam’s answer, she went on the
defensive. “Oh, I don’t know. That you didn’t have a snowball’s
chance of getting back there anyway.”

“No.” Liam’s mouth tilted a notch upwards
into a soft smile. “He said ‘my daughter is more important than any
Championship.’”

“He said that?” Tears flowed freely from her
eyes. Her father loved her? He’d never said the words. Neither had
she. To anyone.

Engulfed in Liam’s strong embrace, his
warmth blanketed more than just her body. Her heart had found a
place to shelter.

She’d gone from wanting to get out of their
fake engagement to wanting to do everything in her power to make
sure, that one day, they celebrated their sixtieth anniversary,
just like her grandparents.

Hopefully, she’d have more success with
keeping Liam, than she’d had with getting rid of him.

T
he darkened room suited
Liam’s mood today, the anniversary of the worst day of his life. A
reminder of all he’d lost and all he had to atone for. Glancing at
his phone, he saw his mother’s name. He knew that she was hurting
just as much as he was. But how could he comfort her when he was to
blame for her misery? He answered her call only because she would
worry more if he didn’t.

“How are you, Liam?”

“I’m fine. I’m not drinking.”
Yet.
A
sealed bottle of Scotch sat before him on the coffee table,
tempting him to accept numbness over grief. “How are you?”

“I visited your father’s grave.”

Liam’s eyes filled. He’d only cried twice in
his life. The day his father died and the day he asked God to
reenter his heart. “I’ll visit after the season.”

“You can visit with him whenever you want.
Speak to him.”

“I know. I do.” He choked out the words.

“Are you okay? Where’s Hayden?”

Liam still stared at the bottle. “Yeah, Mom.
No worries. Hayden is at a business meeting. She’ll be home soon.”
Then somehow, he’d have to pretend like he hadn’t lost his best
friend four years ago. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you once the
season is over. Call me if you need anything.”

He smiled for the first time that day. He
guessed mothers never stopped being moms. “No, you call me if you
need anything.”

As he ended the call, Hayden entered the
living room. He hadn’t heard the door or her footsteps. There was
no time to hide the Scotch. Maybe it was better that she knew what
she was really up against.

“What’s going on, Liam?” she said slowly
like she was trying to gage the situation.

“I didn’t have a drink.”

“I didn’t say that you did.” She tossed her
purse to a chair. “Why do you want one? Is it something I did?”

“No, Hayden. Come here.” Her desperate plea
ate away at his heart. When she sat down next to him, he ran a
reassuring hand down her hair. He touched his forehead to hers.
“There’s nothing you could do to make me want to take a drink.”

“Then why? I thought things were good. With
us, and the team is 7 and 2.”

He pulled away. “I don’t want to talk about
it.” If she knew, it would change everything.

“That’s not fair, Liam. You helped me with
Harry, but I can’t help you? What about our vows? ‘I will help you
when you need help, and turn to you when I need help’.”

She was right. If they were to have a true
marriage, he should turn to his wife when he needed help, just as
Hayden let him support her. It couldn’t be one-sided. Besides, she
deserved to know what a mess he was. “My dad died four years ago
today.”

Her hand flew to her chest and her eyes
widened. “Oh Liam. I’m sorry I didn’t know today was the… I should
know that. I’m a terrible wife.”

“Hayden, stop. You’re a wonderful wife.”

“I am?”

Poor Hayden, she was always looking for
approval when she had nothing to prove. “Yes. You are.” He stroked
her cheek. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”

“There’s more. Tell me. I can see you’re
torturing yourself.”

Liam took a deep breath and dragged his
fingers down his face. “My father is dead because of me.”

“Your father died in a car accident. A drunk
driver.”

“That’s the ironic part.” Disgusted, he
smacked the bottle off the table, and it crashed to the carpeted
floor.
Unbreakable
. Unlike his will to resist temptation.
“He was driving to Arizona to confront me about my drinking. An
intervention.”

Hayden moved from the sofa to the coffee
table, blocking his view of where the bottle had landed. Taking
both of his hands, she said, “That still doesn’t make it your
fault.”

“It is, Hayden. If I had been a better
Christian, then he would have never been on that road in the first
place. It’s easy to be a Christian when everything is going good.
After I went pro, I got sick of everyone from the fans to the
press, questioning my faith, hoping I would fail. And I did. I
started to lose. Badly. The first time I was tested with adversity,
I failed, turning to alcohol and women instead of God. Then my
father got killed.”

“And your grief made things worse,” Hayden
said.

As if that were any excuse.

“I hit bottom. The bottom of the last
bottle, that is. That night, I fell to the floor in a hotel room,
cursing God. Then I passed out. When I woke up, the Bible stared at
me from underneath the bed. I couldn’t believe it. I reached for it
and read and read until I asked God to enter my heart. At that
exact moment my phone rang. It was my agent. I asked for help. I
was in rehab within two hours.”

“Liam, it’s not your fault. Your father
wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“It is my fault.” He swiped the wetness from
his face. “My father’s death was God’s punishment for my sins. I
don’t deserve to be forgiven.”

“I’ll admit I don’t know a lot about
Christianity, but isn’t forgiveness one of the main tenets of the
faith?”

Liam nodded, glad that she wasn’t mentioning
his tears.

“And that includes forgiving yourself?”

“It does. I’ll work on that, promise. Thank
you, Hayden.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you
through this?”

“You already have.” He squeezed her hand.
“But this is a battle only I can win. Recovery is an inside
job.”

“Um, at the risk of hellfire and brimstone
being rained down on me, why don’t we take a walk down the block?
There’s a church around the corner. Catholic, I think. We could
light a candle for your father.”

“I’m not Catholic.” Liam laughed for the
second time that day. “But I don’t think they would mind.” It’s
probably something he should do every year or come up with another
way to deal with his father’s death. Find some way to honor his
life, instead of wallowing in his death. “I have to do something
first.”

He picked up the bottle, took it to the
kitchen sink, and opened the cap. The sweet smell of booze wafted
up, and his resolve wavered for a moment. Hayden stood beside him,
her scent of spice and vanilla more intoxicating than any alcohol.
The comfort of her words outmatched the brief relief any tumbler of
Scotch ever could.