Redeeming (Red Lips & White Lies Book 2)
Redeeming: Part 2 – Chapter 14

“This seat taken?” Dad asks as he climbs the last few steps of the nosebleed seats and sits next to me in a now-empty Kings stadium. He zips his heavy jacket and kicks his feet out as he looks out at the empty field. “Looks different up here, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does,” I admit. “Kinda looks peaceful.”

“Not something you often say about a football field, son.”

I drop my elbows to my knees and lean forward, trying to block some of the wind from hitting him. “Not often you see it without sixty-five thousand people filling the seats, I guess.”

I knew Dad was in the stadium tonight, even if no one else knew it. He was watching the game from Declan’s office. He did the same thing last week at the Thanksgiving game. Managed to get in and out without anyone seeing him. He hasn’t been seen at a game since he stepped down. Didn’t want to confuse the players, he said. Didn’t want to fuel the press. Doesn’t seem to be making a difference, though, and my shit performance tonight isn’t gonna help that.

“You calmed down yet?”

Shame washes over me. “Not my best behavior. I get it.”

“Do you?” He looks small sitting here in the dark cold night. And he’s never looked small a day in his life.

He hasn’t been to a game since he stepped down. Didn’t want to confuse the players, he said. Didn’t want to fuel the press. Doesn’t seem to be making a difference, though, and my shit performance tonight isn’t gonna help that.

“You’ve spent the last few months turning into another player, Callen. One I don’t recognize. One who’s going to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve. Care to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing, Dad. It’s all good.” Complete bullshit, but that’s what I do now. I bullshit my way through it. My day. My game.

“Don’t lie and tell me everything is fine. You’ve been a shit liar your whole life, and I didn’t raise you to be a good liar.”

A gust of frigid wind whips through the stadium and settles in my chest.

“Come on. Let’s get back inside. It looks like it’s going to snow,” I tell him, pretty fucking sure my conscience can’t handle it if he gets sicker.

“The passes you dropped tonight were cake passes you’ve been catching since pee-wees. You don’t drop cake passes, son. You popped off to your offensive coordinator. You got in an argument with your quarterback. You argued with Declan. You would have never done that with me. None of this is like you, so don’t tell me there’s nothing wrong.”

I lean back in the hard black, plastic-molded seat and cross my arms over my chest, staring at the field. “Kind of a lot of shit going on right now.”

I leave my sentence vague. My plan wasn’t to guilt my father over his diagnosis tonight or ever. I’m a grown man who’s gonna what? Cry over his daddy not coaching him anymore?

Dad pulls a Kings knit beanie from his coat and yanks it on his head.

“This isn’t about me. There’s something else there. There has to be—because you know me better than this, Callen. I’m going to get through this. I’m a fighter. We’re both fighters. And I’ve got way too much to live for to not win this fight.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, old man.” I take my gloves from my pocket and hand them to him. He shouldn’t be out here with a weakened immune system. “Come on. Let’s get back inside. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

Dad shakes his head and looks back out at the stadium he helped make great.

“You know something?” He asks, then waits me out like always.

“Know what?” I answer him, because he’s more stubborn than I am most days, and the quiet moment I was looking for when I came up here after the game is already shot to shit.

“You were my second chance. Declan, Nat, and Cooper . . . they didn’t have the childhood you did. They didn’t get the same father you did. They didn’t have two happy parents. Your mother—she made me a better man.” He smiles like he’s lost in a memory.

“She made me more present. I had a more stable job by the time you came around. I had a partner to balance all the things. Because of her, you got the best of me. And I’m not done watching you grow the fuck up yet, apparently, because you’re acting like a child throwing a temper tantrum because his favorite toy was taken away. I know, unlike Declan, you actually wanted to play for the Kings. But I don’t think I’m what’s tying you up like this. So you’re gonna sit here and tell me who or what is holding the goddamned rope, or I’m going to sit out here all night, and your mother is going to bitch us both out when she has to send one of your brothers to replace us. The choice is yours, Callen.”

“You know you’re fucking stubborn, old man,” I groan, pretty sure I don’t have a fucking choice in the matter. Nothing like being nearly thirty and fucking shit up so badly your sick dad has to solve your problems. “But you’re not the only one.”

“That I am. But don’t think for a minute I can’t wait you out, kid. I’ve done it before. And I’ll do it again. You never made anything easy. You always had to learn everything the hard way. I’ve waited you out a time or two before, and I’ll do it again.”

I look at him.

Really look.

His skin has a gray tint to it already, and he’s only a few weeks into the more aggressive treatment they decided to switch to, but the fire is still there. You hear men talk about what it’s like growing up in the shadow of a legend, but they rarely mention what it’s like watching that legend deteriorate in front of your eyes.

“Callen, it’s fucking cold. Speak, son.”

“There was a girl . . .”

“There always is.” Dad’s laugh turns into a cough. “Was she the right girl?”

That’s his first easy question.

“Yeah . . . she was.”

“Didn’t she feel the same?” he asks, probably trying to figure out what the hell happened, since I’m not exactly being forthcoming.

I think about the pain on her face the day I left.

The look in her eye the other day at the bakery.

“The thing is, the timing was shit, and I’m not sure if it’s ever going to line up.” I don’t offer more. The less people who know more, the better for Caitlin.

After a beat, I turn and look at him. “Don’t go stoic on me now, old man.”

“Guess I’m just surprised. I didn’t realize I raised a quitter.”

Fuck.

Dad never raised a hand to me, but he just landed a hard hit.

“I didn’t have a choice,” I argue, with her crystal-blue eyes pooling with tears at the front of my mind. “I did what I had to do.”

He looks skeptical. “If you can live with that, then live with it. Stop this shit. But I know you, son. And I’m pretty sure you can’t live with it.”

Me living isn’t what matters.

Caitlin living is.

Leo

Dude. Thought you were gonna get in a fight on the sidelines last night, Uncle.

Maddox

Nah, man. Not his style.

Killian

I’m with Leo. The whole world saw the picture of you screaming at Declan.

Hendrix

He’s not his brother during a game. He’s his coach. You shut off the family shit. You have to. How else would I kick Nixon and Leo’s ass every time?

Nixon

Not how I remember it.

Callen

Listen. I was pissed. I’m not now. It’s over. Emotions run high during the game. That’s all it was.

Leo

Still looked like you were gonna hit Dad though.

Nixon

Shut up, Leo. Kenzie’s on call at the hospital tonight. I’ve got the house to myself, and Monday Night Football is on in ten minutes. If you’re coming. Bring food or beer. Up to you, assholes.

Killian

I miss food.

Maddox

You eat.

Killian

Yeah. Chicken and rice is what we feed the dogs.

Leo

I like chicken and rice.

Hendrix

I heard you like raman since Nixon moved out. You ever heard of a meal service?

Leo

Sorry. Mommy didn’t set that up for me when I moved out. Must be nice being the baby.

Hendrix

You said it. Not me.

Nixon

Nine minutes.

My doorbell rings ten minutes later, and I curse Nixon. I wouldn’t put it past him to have walked to my place to drag my ass back to his. Some days, this town is too damn small. I could just ignore the fucker, but he’s persistent. Always trying to do the right thing. Leo would let me starve to death, then let the dogs in to lick my bones if he thought it would be fun to watch.

The bell rings again, and I grumble as I make my way to the front door. “Dude, I just played last night. I’m not in the mood—” I swing it open and replace Maddox on the other side. Not Nixon.

“You were saying?” he asks as he walks around me into the house and into my kitchen. He opens the fridge, tosses me a beer, then cracks one for himself.

“Apparently, I was saying help yourself to my beer,” I tell him as I open the bottle and toss the lid into the trash from across the room. “He shoots. He scores.”

“Certainly weren’t doing much of that last night.” Maddox leans against the counter and watches for my reaction, but I don’t react. “Come on, man. We lived together for nine years, including college. What the fuck was up with that shit last night?”

“I already did the whole therapy thing with my old man. I’m good. How about you? You still acting like you’re not hung up on the princess?” When all else fails, the best defense is a good offense.

“Kill’s got a big mouth. I’m not hung up on anyone. Between the bar, the gym, and a few things I’ve got going on with my dad, I don’t have time to focus on anything else.”

“Oh yeah . . .” I know I shouldn’t ask. It’s an unwritten rule. You don’t ask Maddox about Sam or his business. None of us do. But I’m dying for something, anything that might give me information because I haven’t heard from Sam since that night. “How’s the stuff going with your dad?”

“I don’t know. He’s been a moody son of a bitch lately. Not as moody as you. But moody.”

“Gee, thanks.” I crack a smile, managing to forget for a minute how much Maddox is going to hate me if he ever replaces out what happened.

“He worked through most of Thanksgiving. At least until Caitlin got sick. Mom made him get his ass to the table while she stayed with Cait.”

My head spins. “Sick? Like bad sick? What was wrong?”

“Dude. She got a stomach bug or something. Probably ate too much raw cookie dough. She’s been baking so much, you’d think her job was to stock Sweet Temptations with cookies. Who knows? She seems better this week.” Madman finishes his beer and tosses it in the trash. “Come on, man. Let’s go watch the game with the guys.”

I fucking hate this.

All of it.

Including myself.