Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
“You’re a bit sadistic.”
“Yep.” She threw an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her side. “That’s why if anyone comes for you, they’ll turn tail and run because they won’t be ready for me.” An evil laugh came out of her before it subsided into a genuine chuckle. She squeezed me one more time, then let me go. “I know Travis. He’s steady. He can protect you, and he’s a good guy. I don’t know this Brett Broudou except that he’s a professional footballer, and he got on Travis’ nerves like I’ve never seen.”
That explained things a bit more.
“I’m sure Trav gets mad, but I’ve only seen him mad once,” she continued. “A guy got drunk and was trying to drive home from a charity function at the country club until Travis stopped him. He got real pissed.” She flashed me a grin. “And it was hot. I got permission from Roger to say that. He thought Travis was hot in that moment too.”
I snorted. We were cresting the hill where we could see the end of the driveway. “Do me a favor? Give me some space so I can get to know Brett? I want to try.”
We both paused because this was as far as we usually went. If we went farther, we wouldn’t be able to see the girls. The game was starting soon as well.
“Define space?”
I growled.
She laughed, giving me a hug. “I’m kidding. I’ll back off. I promise.” She stepped away. “I’ll try to back off. I will attempt to try to back off.”
I growled again.
“I’ll back off.” She held her hands up in surrender before gazing back at the girls. She groaned. “Right there. I don’t understand why she just doesn’t squeeze the brake. It’s like she forgets and decides to use the fence post instead. We’re going to end up in the emergency room today, I’m telling you.” She started back, grumbling.
I began to go after her but paused.
A truck was parked on the road, not too far away. It was tucked off to the side.
Parked trucks weren’t uncommon. Hunters liked to scope out the land, and sometimes they’d track down Howard to ask if they could hunt around here. His response was always no. Howard liked to say he was keeping the land for himself and his son-in-law, but the truth was that neither Howard nor Roger hunted, though I’d never asked why not. I liked that they weren’t hunters.
Seeing a truck there shouldn’t have given me a pause, but Brett’s words were still in my head from Friday night.
“…some sick fuck could get curious, trek out here, and find you.”
That’s why a cold tingle formed at the bottom of my spine.
Brett put the thought in my head.
It was only because of that.
16
BILLIE
Minneapolis was up, twenty-seven to twenty-four. There was a minute left on the clock, and they had the ball, hoping to score to make that lead even bigger. It was third and goal. I held my breath because Brett was giving it everything he had. He kept fighting against the guy guarding him, grappling to see if he could get an inch of an opening to rush the quarterback.
“Broudou’s been going hard at Leroy the whole game,” one commentator said.
“You’re right,” the other agreed. “What a great player we got in him. The Kings’ defense coordinator must’ve leapt for joy when he got a player of his caliber. He knows what he’s doing. All the little touches, the holds he’s doing on the quarterback? That’s what a top-notch defensive lineman does. He’s getting in the quarterback’s head. It’s his job to do anything to mess up his game.”
“Anything within the rulebook.”
“Of course within the rulebook, but Broudou is a treat to watch.”
For most of the game, they’d been talking about the two quarterbacks—Doubard’s game versus Leroy’s, though for a few moments they’d raved about Stone Reeves, the Kings’ wide receiver who’d run in two of the touchdowns. But for the last ten minutes, they’d been focused on Brett. He’d sacked Leroy twice and was pushing to get a third. If there was any time that it was needed, it was now.
The players lined up.
“Let’s see if they can pull off the money play.”
“Yeah, let’s see what Broudou is going to do here.”
The quarterback called the play, and I was on my feet.
Lo was on the couch, frowning at her phone with one of the girls trying to get her attention. Roger and Howard had ceased talking.
“He’s open! He’s totally open—” Roger yelled, pointing at the television.
The guy who’d been guarding Brett had turned to block the other defensive lineman, which gave Brett a wide-open shot to rush Leroy.
Leroy shifted back to let the ball loose, but Brett was there. His hand was up, just as Leroy threw the ball, and he got a finger on it, tipping it up.