Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
My arm collapses by my side, the Cup almost tipping from my grasp. I catch it at the last moment.
I’m not worried about the Cup; it’s been through worse. Stories of the Cup’s escapades are legendary. A little mud won’t hurt it. Nope, I’m worried about the contents. That’s some pretty good whiskey.
“You know the worst part . . .” I run my hand through my soaked hair, grabbing at the strands and pulling to the point of pain. “You killed her. She trusted you, and you killed her.”
My mother was the glue of our family. The day she died, our family died too.
“And Molly. Don’t get me started with Molly. The fact that she’s so amazing has nothing to do with you. The fact that I’m here, Cup in hand, has nothing to do with you. It’s all because of Molly. She’s the reason I’m here. How does that make you feel?” I hiss as I lift the Cup and take another swig. “The funny thing is, here I am, not so much unlike you. How’s that for irony? You killed me that day too. Killed the fun-loving guy I could have been and left this—” Another swig, another burn. “I guess this is the Sinclair legacy. Angry drunks.”
“So here’s to you, Dad.” I laugh, but it’s a hollow, empty sound. “Here’s to the bastard who only wanted one thing—a famous son. Whelp, you got it. Even if you had to kill everyone to achieve your goal.”
I look at his headstone. Jonathan Sinclair.
The words dance in front of me because my vision is blurry. Is it the rain or my tears that blind me?
Maybe my hate.
With one final swig, I finish the whiskey and push myself back to standing.
“I hope you rot in hell, old man. It seems I’m right behind you, so you might as well save me a seat.”
12
DANE
It’s been a few weeks since I last spoke to Coach. The off months have everyone scattered about, and with no official training in the books, I don’t usually see him, so when the text came from him asking me to have dinner at his house, I was taken aback and a little nervous about the reason for this dinner.
Not long ago, we had dinner often, but he’s had a lot going on lately, so the dinners stopped. Now I wonder if she’s what has him so busy.
Robert is like a father to me, and during the offseason, I often spend time with him and his wife, Sherry.
They’ve been there for Molly and me since the beginning of my career.
Robert knows how important my sister and her well-being are and why I’ve never gone very far from Redville.
Dinner shouldn’t feel weird, but it does because of her.
Josie . . . aka Hellfire, could not have been in his life until recently. I would’ve known about her. Right? Would Coach have kept her a secret from me?
I find it hard to believe that he’s never mentioned he had a kid in all these years, especially since he’s been so instrumental in helping me raise Molly.
I’ll need to ask him because none of this makes any sense.
I’m starting to sweat, a cold panic taking over.
Will she be there?
Does he know about our night at the vineyard?
Fuck.
I pull the car to a stop and then throw it in park.
My hands are still on the steering wheel when the front door opens.
Coach stands in the frame with a perplexed look on his face as he watches me.
What does he see? A kid about to lose his shit? If only he knew how close to the truth that is.
Still sitting here, car off, unmoving.
The lines on his forehead are more pronounced as he stares at me. He doesn’t speak or say anything, but the questions on his face are clear.
Are you getting out?
What’s taking so long?
I let out a long sigh and throw the door open.
“You okay over there, Sinclair?” he asks.
“Sure am. Was just thinking about something.”
“Must have been pretty serious.”
If he only knew.
Based on his teasing lilt, I don’t think this has anything to do with Josie and me. He doesn’t sound mad, and if he knew, he’d be more than pissed.
Thank God.
What he doesn’t know won’t get me killed, so now I just need to keep it that way, and the best way to do that is to hope that she’s nowhere near me.
I know Josie will be working for the team, but I didn’t pay enough attention to ask what that meant.
Now I can’t.
I’ll just need to wait until official practice starts at the end of September.
I take the steps two at a time until I’m standing in front of him.
Robert looks like he’s aged ten years since the last time I saw him. Which is crazy. We’ve been on break. What could be worrying him?