Page 126
“She moved out. She came by and got the rest of her stuff when I wasn’t around. She’s not interested in a reconciliation.”
“But you are?”
“I am.”
“Then you know what to do,” she says.
I stare into space. “If I had any idea how to fix it, I’d do it.”
“Then get to thinking, Cash. Because honestly, it’s affecting you on the ice.”
“I know,” I moan. It’s just another reminder from another person I respect and care about. “I’ll try to figure it out.”
“Okay. And did you want to issue any statements, or are we keeping quiet?”
“Keep quiet,” I say.
“You got it, Maddox. I’ll talk to you soon.” She ends the call, and I force myself to eat something for dinner as I think over our conversation the entire time.
I've just finished washing my dinner dishes when I hear my doorbell ring, which is highly unusual considering I live in a gated community.
I walk over to the door and glance through the peephole, and I'm shocked to see someone I consider my nemesis standing there.
I throw open the door. “You fucking coming here to bother me in my own home now?” I demand.
Dex Bradley has his hands on his hips and a smirk on his lips as he shakes his head at me.
“No, man. I'm here to attempt to help you fix what you fucked up.”
“Sorry?” I say, not sure exactly what he means.
“My sister. How you fucked that whole thing up,” he says, clarifying. “I'm here to help you get her back.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?”
He laughs. “Because, man, she is as miserable as you. And we've all done stupid shit we wish we could make up for. So I'm here to help you make up for yours.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I mutter.
He laughs. “I had a feeling that's how you would react. So I'll go, but you should know a couple things about my sister before I leave.”
“Oh? What do you think you can tell me about her that I don't already know?”
“You know what, dude? It's fine. You fucked it up. You can figure it out.” He turns around to leave.
“No, wait,” I say, and he stops and turns back around. “I'm sorry. I will take any advice you have to give. Come on in.”
He follows me into my kitchen, and I pour us each a glass of whiskey. He doesn’t touch his as I practically chug mine.
He folds his arms across his chest and glares at me. “She's in Chicago right now. She is going to my dad's sentencing tomorrow, and she's planning to go to San Diego to work at VanBrad.”
“She's leaving Vegas?” I ask.
He nods. “She feels betrayed, man, and I can't blame her. You really fucked up.”
“I never meant for her to find out,” I murmur, my voice breaking.
“That doesn’t make it better, and the fact is, she did. And now you have to figure out what you're going to do about that.”
