Redeeming (Red Lips & White Lies Book 2)

Part 2

Breaking News.

In a shocking, unprecedented move, Coach Joe Sinclair has officially stepped down as the head coach of the number one most winning team in NFL history. Rumors have been rumbling all season that this one was going to be his last, but Sinclair, Sr., has responded as always with, “No comment.” Today, as we start week eleven of the regular season, with one week before our beloved Kings have a rematch on Thanksgiving with their Super Bowl rivals, the Nashville Fury, Scarlet Kingston-St. James announced the organization would forever be home to Sinclair before transitioning to how excited the team is with what his son Declan would bring to the table as the newly minted head coach.

Now the question on every Kings fan’s mind is what is happening behind closed doors to make this coach step back. Was this a forced transition by the team owners? And if so, why? Our Kings are seven and three in a season rife with injuries. Why change things now?

Only time and this reporter will tell. Stay tuned, football fans.

#KroydonKronicles #BehindClosedDoors

“You want to talk about it?” Maddox asks from the other side of the bar in West End. Everyone and their brother saw the press conference earlier. It’s a fucking miracle Dad managed to keep things quiet for as long as he did. But that’s all going to change soon. The spotlight will be blinding now. Someone is going to find out.

“Nah, man. I’m good.” Lies. All fucking lies.

I haven’t been good in months.

The only thing good is my ability to lie.

I’ve perfected that.

“You should have stayed in Ellwyn longer. The whole scene was crazy.” Maddox pushes the beer my way with a smirk as Killian agrees.

“Yeah. Maybe next time. You two shits already knew I had to fly home with the team. What was so special about it anyway?”

The league has been scheduling international games for us for the past few years in an effort to bring football to other countries. It’s not my favorite thing, but it’s not the worst. We played in Ellwyn three weeks ago, and apparently, since we won, we’ll be playing there again next year.

Oh, yay . . .

“Yeah . . . been a crazy few weeks. But now it’s time to get down to business,” Killian announces like he’s psyching himself up for the hell his life turns into when he’s in training mode. “I’m gonna miss having a life.”

Maddox lifts his beer and taps it to mine as Kill stares at us with a bottle of water in his hand. “Here’s to missed chances,” he toasts, and I choke on my drink.

“The fuck?” I cough.

“Come on, man,” Killian shakes his head. “It’s not like it’s your first casual fuck. Just the first time it’s with an actual princess.”

I look between the two of them, relieved he’s not talking about me but definitely not following whatever he’s talking about. “What’d I miss?”

“Madman bagged himself a princess.”

I blow out a long, low whistle. “Fuck, dude. An actual princess?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Maddox tells us, ending the conversation. At least he tries.

“Not like she’s next in line for the throne or some shit. You could call her,” Kill pushes a little harder, and the look Maddox gives him says it all.

He’s not calling.

“Wasn’t Lennon a princess?” I ask because it feels good to not hate myself at the moment.

It won’t last, but it feels good.

“Fuck off. Technically, I don’t think she had a title . . .” Maddox tries to take my beer away, but I pull it out of reach.

“Hi, boys,” Bellamy bounces over and kisses the guys on the cheek, then looks at me and curls her lip. “Missed you when you guys got in last night.”

Killian wraps an arm around her shoulder. “Looking good, B. Got a hot date?”

“Not exactly.” A coy smile plays on her lips, and she looks right at me. “Caitlin does though.”

My stomach drops.

It’s been three fucking months, and not a day has passed that I haven’t regretted what I did. How I fucked it all up. Then I remember Sam’s words and know I’d do it again if it meant keeping her safe.

Bellamy is the only one who knows, and I’m pretty sure if I still lived with them, she’d have cut my balls off in my sleep already because she only knows whatever Caitlin told her.

Cait can’t ever know the rest.

She never said a word to Maddox, and neither did I, even if it makes me a shit friend most of the time. He’s been traveling with Killian on and off more lately, so at least I haven’t had to lie to his face. Not much. Not until now, when I have to keep my fucking mouth closed and act like Bellamy didn’t just land a knockout blow.

“Who the fuck is the date with?” So much for keeping my mouth shut.

“Is Jude with her?” Maddox asks, and Killian laughs.

“Why would Jude be on a date? Everything okay?” I try and fail to sound casual about it.

“It’s like the two of you have never seen her date before. She’s a big girl.” Killian tugs Bellamy against his side. “And you. Don’t egg these assholes on. One of Dad’s fighters needs a stylist, according to his agent. He was meeting with Caitlyn today. That’s all it was.”

“Dinner is a date.” Bellamy pushes away from Killian and cocks her eyebrow my way. “When a man takes you out, it’s a date. He opens a door, buys a meal, and if he’s lucky, gets a goodnight kiss.” Something catches her eye, and she smiles. “Speaking of which, I’ve got my own date. Don’t wait up, fellas.”

She walks away with an extra sway to her steps that screams fuck you.

And it’s directed at me.

“You set my sister up with a fighter? Who?”

“I didn’t set her up. I told her one of the guys needed a stylist. That’s it. Who Cait fucks is on her, not me.”

I see fucking red the second the words leave his mouth.

“Ahh, man. Stop. I don’t want to think about that.” Maddox nails Killian in the face with his dirty bar towel.

“Whatever,” Kill mumbles. “If I gotta hear about my sister and her husband, you can hear about Cait going on a date.”

I finish my beer and slam it on the bar. “I’m out.”

“What the hell? What’d I say?”

I don’t bother answering Killian.

I don’t need to.

What I need is a bottle of tequila and an empty house.

Fuck you, Sam.

“Get up, asshole.”

I drag a pillow over my head and flip Leo off from the couch.

“Go away,” I groan, my head pounding in time to some kind of fucked up beat.

What the hell is that?

“No can do. It’s Thanksgiving, remember?”

Shit. Wait . . . did I lose a whole week?

“And let’s not forget whose fault it is either. You and Dad are the ones otherwise occupied on Thursday. You’re the reason we’re having dinner today instead of sleeping in. Some of us had games last night.” He kicks my leg. “Dick.”

“Fuck off, Leo. I’m up.” I sit and rub my eyes as I work on moving. “My head hurts like a bitch.”

“Just guessing, but it might have something to do with the empty bottle of Don Julio. Maybe if you’d get the fuck up and get showered, I wouldn’t have to be a babysitter. Seriously, man. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you look like dog shit.” He sniffs me, and I consider head-butting him.

Kill two birds with one stone and all that shit.

If my head hurts from that, maybe the Don Julio will take a back seat.

“Dude, you smell worse than you look. Don’t make me shove your ass in a cold shower.”

Head-butt is looking pretty good.

I stand and stare at him. “I’d like to see you try, man.”

“Leo,” Cooper growls from the front door.

When did he get here?

“Head over to Grandpa’s. I’ll get Callen moving.”

“Whatever you say, Uncle Coop. He’s salty as shit today. Maybe you can figure out what the hell is going on with him. The rest of us gave up.” Leo looks back at me as he walks out. “Take a fucking shower.”

Cooper waits for Leo to leave before he picks up the empty bottle. “Leo’s not wrong, Callen. Take a goddamned shower and meet me down here. I’ll make the coffee.”

When I don’t move, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Mom’s been cooking all day, Callen. Don’t make her wait for you.”

“She’s not your mother,” I mumble like a fucking child as I head to the stairs.

“She’s more mom to me than mine has ever been, you little dick. She’s also going through hell, and she wants her whole family together. That includes you. Men give a shit about making their mothers happy, Callen. Give a shit.”

I ignore my brother as I move into the bathroom and step into an ice-cold shower.

I know I’m being a bitch.

But this is hell.

Three fucking months, and nothing’s changed.

Strike that.

Nothing has gotten better.

Worse—yeah.

Treatment is kicking Dad’s ass.

And Caitlin won’t speak to me.

I know that’s how it needs to be, but fuck me, the reality of it is hell.

Once I’m showered and dressed and feel half-human, I make my way back downstairs, where Coop’s cleaned up my mess from last night.

He kicks one of the kitchen chairs away from the table. “Sit.”

“I’m good,” I answer and reach for the coffee before he gets in my way.

“It wasn’t a question, Callen. Sit your ass down.” My brothers are all at least twenty years older than me. And for the most part, I’m pretty sure I could take any of them in a fight. But right now, I’m thinking Cooper might be the exception.

I sit, and he hands me a cup of black coffee.

“Drink.”

I look from the mug to him. “You gonna make speaking in single syllables a thing now?”

“You gonna grow the fuck up and talk to someone about whatever the hell is bothering you, smart-ass?” He drops into the seat across from me. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that. In case you weren’t sure, now’s when you speak.”

“I’m not one of your kids, Coop.”

“You’re right. My kids don’t sulk for weeks, Callen. And I know this isn’t about Dad, so don’t try to say it is.”

I groan, not sure how I got here.

“You ever feel like no matter what you do, you’re fucked?” I ask, trying to figure this shit out.

“More times than you’ll ever know. But I’m pretty damn good in those situations. So how about you let me help you. You’ve been angrier than I’ve ever seen you for weeks, little brother.”

Anger is easier to deal with.

Anger I can use. Can channel.

Football is a great sport for angry men.

You get paid enough money for your children’s children to never have to work a day in their lives just to hit someone on a field.

“It’s not just the Dad stuff. That’s not helping anything, but it’s not that. There’s other shit going on that I can’t talk about.”

“Does it have something to do with why you moved in?” He pushes like I knew he would.

“Coop, seriously, brother. Let it go.” I blow out an aggravated breath and watch Coop’s face change as something clicks.

“It wasn’t Bellamy Wilder,” he says slowly as he lifts his mug, waiting to gauge a response I won’t give him. “It was Caitlin Beneventi, wasn’t it?”

I school my face, not wanting to confirm anything.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Callen. Tell me you didn’t fuck over Sam Beneventi’s daughter.”

I shake my head and clench my jaw so damn tight, I’m surprised my teeth don’t shatter.

“I didn’t fuck her over. I broke her.”