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)
I don’t know. I was probably overthinking it, but for some reason it meant something that his text had come so late. Maybe Lo was right. He’d said he wanted to see me, then he’d said he’d call, and he’d dwindled that down to a text coming in at booty-call time of night.
That meant something.
I needed to go with my gut.
I didn’t reply to him either.
11
BRETT
Yesterday was our day off, and though I rarely took it because no one took it off, I was forced to this time. I’d gotten a call at three in the morning, just a few hours after I’d come home from going to drinks with Ole, and found Billie there of all places. I’d been planning my Tuesday differently than the way it happened. I’d wanted to head in, do more weight lifting and training, and go over the tapes for the next team. Then I’d wanted to call Billie on the drive home, maybe talk her into dinner at her place or mine (just easier for privacy reasons) or take her out somewhere to eat if that made her feel more comfortable.
I had also planned on stocking up on everything I needed for the house. Some of my buddies didn’t think about that since their wives or girlfriends did that for them. Some of the single guys had assistants who did that sort of thing. One of the guys’ husbands handled that too.
Not me.
I’d tried an assistant, but it didn’t work for me. I stuck with my agent, Jason, and my manager. Sometimes Callie, one of the team’s physical therapists, came over if I needed an early-morning treatment, and because we were friends, she’d stick around. At first my house had been a quiet place for her to study since her place was next to a bar and she was going for a graduate degree, but she started spending more time here. By now, I knew she’d be studying at my house every Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday night. I barely noticed Saturday because I was always gone for our game the next night. The team stayed at a hotel the night before, no matter where it was. Callie had started taking care of the house, and I’d cleaned out a back section on the other side of my garage for her. It’d been used as a gardening area by the previous owner, but I extended it and renovated it into a guest area. That was now where Callie studied.
But with all she did to help out, I never let her get my groceries. That was my job. I’d been looking forward to picking up a steak, maybe a decent red wine if Billie liked that kind of thing, and some potatoes and vegetables for the grill. If Billie hadn’t felt comfortable coming to my place, I’d fire up the grill another night.
But none of that happened.
Instead, I’d gotten a frantic call from my fourteen-year-old niece. “Uncle Brett, Mom went to the casino, and she’s not been back in days. I’m getting worried.” She’d been crying. “Can you find her?”
My niece rarely cried, or rarely let someone know she was crying.
An hour later, after making a call to someone I knew in the bounty-hunting business, I’d been in the car on the way to the airport because my sister was in jail.
It took me all day to get there and get things settled for my sister’s kids, but I’d gotten back late last night. I’d sent Billie a text when I landed in Texas and was on the way home. I’d called Wednesday and left a voice message, but still nothing. It was now Thursday, and I was just getting home after being at practice all day.
I’d messed up our first meeting, and she was ghosting me. Had I done something wrong?
I had no idea how else to get ahold of her. That Travis guy.
Fuck.
I bit back a growl, but I could track him down.
As I pulled into my garage, I could see Callie’s little white Camry was in the last slot, so I didn’t go inside. More than likely she’d be out in her area, but just in case she was using the kitchen, I wanted to do this in private.
I let loose a growl. I hated owing this guy two favors in a row.
I dialed the phone.
“New Kings Bounties.” He was already laughing as he greeted me with that.
I cursed. “This is your personal cell.”
He barked out a laugh. “No shit, Sherlock. Gotta raz you. This is the second call in three days. To what do I owe the stupendous honor of getting another call from the superstar Brett Broudou?”
Channing Monroe. I knew this kid from school. He’d been a leader of his own group, which made him usually my enemy back then. I’d been about family loyalty and backed up my twin, who wasn’t a good guy. Not that I’d consider Monroe a good guy, but he wasn’t in prison, so there was that.