Hendrix (Raleigh Raptors 3)

The same team that kept popping up on the highlight reel on NFL RedZone.

My arms were folded tightly across my chest, my heart weighing heavy in its center. Every time I thought I'd gathered the right words to open up a dialogue about the extreme pain I felt over what my father had done—regardless of the actions I'd taken to prevent it—I lost my nerve. Because what good would it do?

Hendrix clearly hated me. I’d done that job well. And he'd most likely already moved on. The way he looked at me in the hallway had haunted me since I’d watched him leave the arena.

"Weston tells me you're doing a bang-up job with the upcoming contracts," Dad said from his opposite position on the couch. Things had never been so tension-filled with us. Never been so awkward or painful. But I turned my gaze on him, my lips parting in astonishment.

"Are you really talking about my job right now?" The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. It wasn't that what he said wasn't true. I was kicking the shit out of those contracts. Burying myself in my newfound position was about as close as I could get to feeling anything other than emptiness lately. But was Dad really acting like everything was normal between us?

"I just wanted you to know that I'm proud of you," he said, a little of that pain slipping in his voice. But it didn't have an effect on me, not like it normally would. Something was broken between us, and I didn't know if we could ever mend it. Me being here was my hope that we would find common ground again.

“Dad, I…” Where to start? How to begin?

I shook my head, unable to grasp the right words, and forced my eyes to the screen. The RedZone showed highlights again—

Hendrix Malone.

Of course, he’d be on the screen.

They showed replay after replay of the catch he’d just made—

I gasped and jumped out of my seat. I fumbled across the couch for the remote and hit pause.

Dad grumbled and shook his head. "You really dodged a bullet there," he said. "Look at that kid, no remorse. No worries. Not a care in the world."

The words barely registered in my mind because I was too focused as I stepped up to the flatscreen. Too focused on that slight glint of gold I'd seen. I almost thought I'd imagined it. But the pause said it all.

My heart was in my throat, thundering and pounding and making it hard to breathe, making it hard to think.

"Savannah?" My father asked as I continued to stare at the screen, my eyes welling with tears.

The necklace.

That's what glinted on the screen right now. When Hendrix had jumped to pluck the ball from the air, his pads shifted so that the necklace flew up and hit his chin. The barely perceptible chain, the star charm my mother had given to me before she died. The one I’d given to Hendrix in my own silent show of how much I loved him.

I was still there with him.

I was on that field with him.

And the idea that he hadn’t taken it off, hadn’t thrown it in some dumpster in Charleston, made me think that maybe the hate in his eyes had been just as much for show as my breakup had been for him.

I spun around, glaring at my father while pointing to the necklace. "Dodged a bullet?" I snapped. "Do you see that?"

My father stood up, crossing the room to look at what my finger pointed at on the flatscreen. It only took a second for his eyes to register, his lips to part.

"That's my favorite necklace," I said. "The necklace I've cherished for more than half my life."

"And you gave it to him?" my father asked, exasperated.

I tossed the remote at him, and he fumbled to catch it against his chest. His eyes flew wide as he watched me stomp through the living room.

"Savannah, wait," he called after me as I headed toward the door. Adrenaline burst through my veins as I reached for my cell phone. "Please," he said.

It was the desperation in his tone that made me pause. Made me take a breath and turn around to face him.

"Baby," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he shamefully looked at the floor. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think it could possibly be real between you two. I've seen the kid operate. And all I want to do is protect you."

"You have protected me," I said, tears welling in my eyes. "My entire life. Dad, you're the reason I am who I am today. But you have to cut me some slack. You have to give me some credit. You need to lift those ridiculous rules you have on your team. You need to trust me to make decisions for myself, not some stupid rule you put on your players like they’re a pack of ravenous wolves." The words flew out of me, the toxins in my soul spilling out with each sentence. “I’ve been part of that team for just as long as you have. You can’t seriously be so surprised I’d fall in love with one of them.”