Touchdown (5 page)

“What about it?”

He smirked, and she knew he meant to threaten her. “Don’t you dare,” she warned.

“Dare what?”

“Oh, just bring Bessie in here. I want to see her.”

He chuckled and left the room. She knew he must be kidding. A coach couldn’t possibly risk his reputation and be branded a child murderer just to save his nephew’s filthy ass, but his threat still frightened her. She had to convince Bessie not to ride the Ferris Wheel with Logan.

Chapter 5

“What do you mean you left her with my mom?” Troy asked, referring to Bessie, while they were driving along the road. His driver’s license had been suspended, so Logan had to be the one to drive.

It was Sunday noon. Logan and his lawyer arrived early in jail to bail him out.

“Your mom volunteered, and the kid seems to like her.”

“You know my mom’s a suicidal
alcoholic. She could be pouring brandy down that girl’s throat right now.”

“The kid’s smart. Sometimes, you just gotta trust them if you don’t trust the grown ups taking care of them.”

Troy sighed. “You’ll take the girl back to her mother. I’m not coming.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Well, dickhead, you’re not entitled to make the decision here. If I say you will come along, you will fucking come along.”

Troy leaned backward and rubbed his forehead. Why did he have to obey this old man’s every order?

Because he just pulled you out of your shit
, a voice inside him said.

Logan pulled the car over before the front yard, and Troy jumped out to get the girl.

“Mom,” he called out and opened the door. He found his parents in the living room, sitting on the floor in front of Bessie who was holding a microphone.

He was momentarily frozen. Bessie was reciting a poem while his parents were eagerly listening. She was dressed in a pink gown, with a wreath of flowers on her head.

It was a scene he had not anticipated. For the first time, he’d seen his parents smiling again.

Bessie suddenly stopped and turned to look at him. His parents, too.

“Hello, Mister,” Bessie greeted cheerfully. “Did the police let you go?”

A warm flush crawled up his face. This little girl had no idea how embarrassing that sounded.

“Yes,” his father added. “Did they let you go?”

Troy cleared his throat. “I’m out on bail.”

“You’re taking the girl with you?” his mother asked.

“Y-yes. We’ll take her back to her mother.”

“The victim is her mother, right?” Stanly asked.

“We’ll talk later. I have to bring the kid to the hospital. We have to practice tonight.”

“Are we going to see Zoey?” Bessie asked.

“Yes, we are, sweetheart. Go get your things. We’re leaving.”

Bessie put down the microphone and ran upstairs.

Paula quickly rose to her feet and approached him. “Can we borrow that girl again?”

Troy was speechless. He could have said no right away, but his mother had never asked a favor from him before. And something seemed suddenly right. His mother had not done anything right in her life since his brother’s death, and she wasn’t drunk either. She seemed too amused with the little girl, and he could not deprive her of that while he could clearly see that she had finally found something that could make her happy.

He nodded. “I’ll tell her mother.”

“Tell her she can trust me. I’ll take good care of her little girl while she’s in the hospital.”

He nodded again. Bessie came running down the stairs with her school bag.

“I’m ready,” she said.

Paula lifted the girl up. “You’re coming back, aren’t you?”

“Zoey is still in the hospital, so I’ll sleep with you again,” Bessie replied.

Troy frowned. “She’d been sleeping here for the last two nights?” he asked.

“Yes. Logan does not know shit about raising a child. What made you think he can?”

*****

“Is your name, Troy?” Bessie, who was sitting in the backseat of the car, asked. “Aunt Paula is your mama?”

Troy held onto the top of the seat and turned around to look at her. “Yes. Did she tell you I’m her son?”

“No, but I saw your picture in her room.”

He wanted to laugh. She could have seen Ashton’s photo.

“What’s your last name?” Bessie asked again.

“Myers. My whole name is Troy Myers.”

“You’re not Troy Myers,” Bessie giggled. “That’s the name of the football player Zoey hates. And he’s popular.”

He frowned, while Logan, on the wheel, laughed. “Don’t I look popular?”

“No. If you’re popular, you won’t be in jail.”

Logan laughed again. “Ain’t that kid something?”

“You’re not a bad man, are you?”

“What made you think I am?” Troy returned.

“Because only bad men go to jail. But the police let you go, because you’re not bad, right?”

Troy nodded. “Right.”

“Wrong, kid,” Logan interrupted. “He’s as bad as the wicked witch in your fairy tale books.”

“Troy is not a woman. A witch must be a woman.”

“Who told you? There are men witches as well.”

“I never saw one.”

“Don’t listen to her, sweetheart,” Troy interrupted. “You’re smarter than him. All witches are women.”

“Wait ‘til you meet her mother,” Logan said. “She’s one hell of a witch.”

Troy glanced at Logan. “She is?”

“I’m warning you, she growls.”

“A witch does not growl,” Bessie argued. “A witch laughs like hi-hi-hi.”

Troy grinned. No wonder his parents were so fond of this girl. “Does your mom laugh like that?”

“Sometimes, but Zoey is not my mom. Not really, but I like her to be my mom.”

He frowned. “She is not? Then why are you with her?”

“She got me from the big house.”

“Big house?”

“A house where children with no parents stay.”

Troy recalled the police officer telling him that Zoey Graham was a legal guardian. “Where is your real mother?”

“I don’t know. We used to stay in Zoey’s apartment. But she ran away with Brent.”

“Who’s Brent?”

“Brent is Zoey’s boyfriend.”

Troy’s jaw dropped. Did he get this right? Bessie’s mother eloped with Zoey’s boyfriend? “And your mother left you with Zoey?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a bitch of a mother you have, kid,” Logan said.

Troy agreed.

“Is it true you’re Zoey’s new boyfriend?” Bessie asked, which left Troy speechless.

“Yes, he is,” Logan replied. “And he is taking you to the mall to buy dolls and toys. You want that, don’t you?”

Bessie’s eyes widened, her big blue eyes glowed brighter. “Really?”

“You bet.”

“I want a Barbie doll, and a Barbie house.”

“You’ll have ten of those.”

“Wow! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Bessie was jumping in her seat.

Troy nudged his uncle. “We don’t have time for this. I’ll just leave the money with my mom so they can go shopping.”

“No, you’re not,” Logan said. “We’ll use that kid to make you look good in Miss Graham’s eyes. She might change her mind.”

“You don’t run out of tricks, do you?”

“A coach must never run out of tricks. I didn’t become a two-time best coach for nothing.”

Troy had to agree, but meeting his victim face to face for the first time really unnerved him. “Did you say she was a Jets fan?” he asked.

“Fanatic. Just like your father.”

Troy sighed. That just made things even more difficult.

*****

“Zoey!”

Zoey leaned forward to take Bessie in her arms. The girl seemed very excited to see her, and she was wearing a pretty dress, and a flower wreath on her head.

“What’s the occasion?” Zoey asked. “Did you attend a wedding? Were you the flower girl?”

Bessie shook her head. “Uncle Logan bought it for me.”

“I see,” she replied. Logan was probably like some of the men she knew who thought that a little girl ought to look like a doll or a fairytale princess every day.

“And your new boyfriend bought me Barbie dolls and castles. He’s so cool. I like him for you more than I liked Brent.”

She frowned. “My boyfriend?”

“Yes. He said his name was Troy Myers.”

“What?!” she exclaimed. “Did he tell you that?”

“Nope,” a man answered.

Zoey turned to the door and found a tall, gorgeous, black-haired man standing there.

Troy Myers! In the flesh! Was he real or just an illusion?

Her heart skipped. She couldn’t understand why she was reacting in such a way. She hated this man… ever since he had surfaced as the Patriots’ quarterback.

“It’s a misunderstanding,” Troy continued as he approached her.

Zoey could not speak. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Fuck, this man was more handsome in person that how he appeared on TV. He looked even more magnificent in a gray shirt and jeans.

He stood beside the bed, just a foot away. He smiled. “So how do you feel?”

For a few seconds, she still could not speak.

Wow! His famous, deep blue eyes that had captured the hearts of women all over the world. She couldn’t believe she was looking at them now, up close. They were sucking her in.

Fuck! What the hell was happening to her? This son of a bitch just broke her leg. She could still see her leg wrapped with a plaster cast. She couldn’t stand. She couldn’t even sit properly. Her butt and back hurt staying in the same position all day and night long.

“How do I feel?” she returned with a hint of sarcasm. “Don’t you see? I can’t walk. I might never be able to walk again.”

His smile faded away. She noticed Logan peeking through the door.

“Bessie, come here for a minute,” Logan said as he gestured for Bessie to come to him. “Zoey and her boyfriend need to talk.”

“Okay.” Bessie jumped down the bed and ran towards Logan. They quickly disappeared out of her sight.

“Where the hell are they going?” she asked. She honestly didn’t want to be left alone with Troy. It made her feel uneasy.

Troy moved away. She followed him with her eyes and noticed he was approaching the wall at the other side of the bed. He was staring at the photo she had posted there—a photo of Mason Wayne she had cut out of the magazine. She had hoped it would make her feel better despite the boredom of having to remain in bed all day long.

“You’re a Wayne girl, huh?” he said, nodding his head.

She stared at him. The wide breadth of his shoulders caught her attention. She ran her eyes down the flat of his back to his narrow waist. It almost looked like a V shape. And his butt… wow. It looked better than Wayne’s butt, she must admit.

“You like him?” he asked, now looking at her.

She pulled her eyes off his butt and looked into his eyes. “Who doesn’t? Wayne is every girl’s dream. The most gorgeous football star that ever graced the field.”

A nonchalant smile pulled the corner of his lips. “Most gorgeous, huh. The last time I checked the survey, I won seventy-thirty over him in that category.”

“Hah,” she scoffed. “That survey is rigged. Even if it were true, it’s the other way around now.”

“Why so?”

“Why? Because you did this,” she said, pointing at her plastered leg. “You broke my leg. And if it were true that I was homeless, that could have made your crime even more unforgivable.”

“So you’re not homeless.”

“I am not. I’ve got a home, and I have a job, for your information.”

He nodded. “Listen. I’m really sorry about that. If there’s anything I can do to make up for—”

“It’s been done. What else can you do?”

“Tell me what you want.”

Pissed, she grabbed the stuffed bear and threw it at his face. He caught it fast, just like the way he’d catch a ball. “You can’t bribe me. Didn’t your coach tell you that I don’t need your money?”

“What about if it isn’t money?” he asked, handing her back the bear.

“So what else can you give me aside from your money?”

“Hmm.” He stroked his chin, thinking. “There is one, but I still have to think about it.”

“What? Your dick?”

His eyes were wide in shock.

“Your coach told me,” she said to answer his obvious question. “He said you only have two things—your money and your seasoned dick.”

“Seasoned?”

“With varieties of vagina creams sprinkled with herpes virus or… other stuff. Maybe that’s what your uncle meant to say.”

“Ugh.” He cringed. “I’ve made it a habit to wrap my dick well with an elastic, water proof, air tight and vanilla flavored rubber so as not to get in contact with any cream, for your information.”

“You tell that to your uncle. I was just relaying his words to you.”

“Alright.” He threw his hands in the air. “I’ll let that pass. So what terms have you come up with my uncle?”

She rolled her eyes and tossed the bear on the table. “Don’t count on it. I’m determined to settle this in court.”