He and Wyatt walked silently toward the lobby, then exited through the front doors and stepped into the cool morning air. Cars whizzed by in front of the arena. Pedestrians ambled down the sidewalk without giving the two men a second look. Everyone was going about their day, cheerfully heading to work, while Brody was here, waiting to be questioned about something he wanted no part in.
With a strangled groan, Wyatt ran one hand through his hair, messing up the style he’d obviously taken great care with. “Look, I’m not going to lie. I’ve been seeing Sheila, okay?” His voice shook slightly. “I know it’s wrong. I know I have no business sleeping with a married woman, but goddamn it, I was a goner from the moment I met her. I love her, man.”
“Sheila told you who took the bribes, didn’t she?”
Wyatt averted his eyes. “Yes.”
“Then who was it, damn it? Who the fuck put us in this position, Craig?”
There was a beat of silence. “I don’t think you want to know, man.”
Another pause. Longer this time. Brody could tell that the last thing Wyatt wanted to do was name names.
But he did.
“Nicklaus did. And—” Wyatt took a breath. “I’m sorry, Brody, but...so did Sam Becker.”
THIRTY
The ground beneath Brody’s feet swiftly disintegrated. He sagged forward, planting both hands on his thighs to steady himself. He sucked in a series of long breaths. Waited for his pulse to steady.
“Those are the only two Sheila knows about,” Wyatt was saying. “There could be more.”
He glanced up in anger. “You’re lying. Nicklaus maybe, but not Sam. He wouldn’t do that.”
“He did.”
No. Not Becker. Brody pictured Sam’s face, thinking back to the first day they’d met, how Sam Becker had taken Brody’s rookie self under his wing and helped him become the player he was today. Becker was his best friend on the team. He was a stand-up guy. A champion. A legend. Why would he throw his career away for some extra pocket money?
“He’s retiring at the end of the season,” Wyatt said, as if reading Brody’s mind. He shrugged. “Maybe he needed a bigger nest egg.”
Brody closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he saw the sympathy on Wyatt’s face.
“I know you two are close,” Craig said quietly.
“You could be wrong about this. Sheila could have lied.” Brody knew he was grasping at straws, but anything was better than accepting that Becker had done this.
“It’s the truth.”
Fuck.
Fucking hell.
They stood there for a moment, neither one speaking, until Wyatt finally cleared his throat and said, “We should go back inside.”
“You go. I’ll be there in a minute.”
After Wyatt left, Brody adjusted his tie, wondering if he’d ever be able to breathe again. His head was still spinning from Craig’s revelation. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
Damn it, he needed to talk to Becker. Look his friend in the eye and demand the truth. Prove Wyatt wrong.
Then he looked up and realized he was going to be granted his wish sooner than he’d expected.
Because Sam Becker had just exited the arena.
Becker spotted him and instantly made his way over. “You done already?”
“Haven’t even gone in yet.” He tried to mask his emotions as he studied his old friend. “Are you scheduled to be interviewed today?”
“Yeah,” Becker said. “And as a reward, I get to take Mary shopping afterward.”
Brody smiled weakly.
A frown touched Becker’s lips. “You okay?”
“I’m, uh...” He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. All good.”
“You sure about that?” Sam said, rolling his eyes.
He swallowed through the lump in his throat. “All good. Just thinking about stuff.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still obsessing over Presley’s daughter. I told you, man, you shouldn’t be seeing her.”
Yeah, Sam had told him, hadn’t he? And Brody now had to wonder exactly where the advice had stemmed from. Was Becker really looking out for him, or had he wanted to keep him away from Hayden in case Presley decided to confide in his daughter? In case Brody learned the truth about Becker’s actions.
The thought made his blood run cold.
“Let’s not talk about Hayden,” he said roughly.
