Chapter 6: The Lie Between Us

Kade Mercer had spent years believing that Coach Danner was one of the few people in his life who would never betray him. Now, standing beside Rhett Calloway in the parking lot behind Westbridge University's administration building, he could barely remember what it felt like to trust the man who had helped rebuild his life after his father's supposed death.

The message on his phone remained burned into his mind. Ask Coach Danner why he was the last person to see your father alive. Kade read it again, his fingers tightening around the device as if he could crush the words and make them disappear. His father had been alive when Rhett found him injured. His father had warned Rhett about the man who taught Kade how to win. And now someone was telling Kade that Coach Danner had been the last person to see Daniel Mercer alive. Every piece of information opened another wound, and Kade was beginning to fear that there was no version of the truth that would leave his life intact.

Rhett watched him carefully, but Kade refused to meet his eyes. He didn't want to see concern on Rhett's face, especially when he wasn't sure whether that concern was genuine. Six years ago, Rhett had stood somewhere inside Kade's childhood home while his father bled on the floor. He had seen something Kade had never been allowed to see, heard words Kade had never been allowed to hear, and carried the secret into their rivalry without saying a word. Kade couldn't decide whether to be furious that Rhett had protected him or devastated that the protection had required such a cruel lie. He wanted answers, but every time Rhett gave him one, another secret appeared behind it.

We need to talk to Danner, Kade said finally.

Rhett's expression changed. Not yet.

Kade turned toward him sharply. Don't tell me what I can and cannot do.

I'm telling you that someone is sending us messages and knows where we are. They knew we opened the safety deposit box. They knew what was in the photograph, and they knew what I told you about that night. If we walk into Danner's office without knowing who else might be listening, we could be handing them exactly what they want.

Kade gave a humorless laugh. You mean the truth?

I mean a confession they can control.

The words silenced Kade for a moment. He hated that Rhett's reasoning made sense. Whoever was sending the messages seemed to know every step they took before they took it. Even their conversation in the parking lot could have been recorded. Kade glanced toward the surrounding buildings, searching the windows and the parked cars for any sign of movement. Suddenly, every shadow seemed suspicious, every passing student a possible threat. He had spent years worrying about defenders watching his movements on the court. Now he found himself wondering whether someone had been watching him long before he ever put on a Westbridge jersey.

Rhett unlocked his car and opened the passenger door. We need somewhere private to look through everything we found. Then we'll decide how to approach Danner.

Kade didn't move. Why are you still helping me?

Rhett paused with one hand on the door. What?

You heard me. You could walk away. You could tell me that your promise ended the moment I discovered the truth. Instead, you're still standing here, trying to protect me from people you claim you don't understand. Why?

For the first time since their confrontation began, Rhett looked genuinely uncomfortable. His gaze dropped briefly to Kade's hands before returning to his face. Because your father asked me to make sure you survived long enough to learn the truth.

Kade felt the answer land like a slap. So that's all I am to you? Another promise you made to a dead man?

Rhett's jaw tightened. I never said that.

Then tell me what I am to you.

The question hung between them, far more dangerous than Kade had intended. He hadn't meant to ask about their relationship, not when his father's disappearance was tearing his world apart, but the words had escaped before he could stop them. Rhett stared at him, and for one strange second Kade thought he might finally receive an honest answer that had nothing to do with contracts or promises. Instead, Rhett looked away.

Get in the car, Mercer.

Kade hated him for avoiding the question. He hated himself even more for caring about the answer.

They drove to Rhett's apartment in silence. Kade watched the city pass outside the window, trying to organize the pieces of his father's disappearance into something that resembled a story. Daniel Mercer had investigated dangerous people. Coach Danner had apparently seen him shortly before he vanished. Rhett had found him injured, and someone had stolen the envelope his father entrusted to Rhett. The messages suggested that the truth about Rhett and the truth about Coach Danner were connected, but Kade couldn't tell whether the sender was exposing the conspiracy or carefully constructing a lie to turn him against everyone.

When they arrived, Rhett led him into a small apartment overlooking a quiet street. It was clean, almost painfully organized, with basketball shoes arranged near the door and training schedules pinned beside a desk. Kade had expected something different from his rival, perhaps a collection of trophies or expensive possessions displayed to prove how successful he was. Instead, the room looked as though Rhett had spent years trying to avoid leaving traces of himself anywhere.

Rhett placed the black envelope and contract on the desk. Kade took out the photograph of his father and laid it beside them. For several minutes, they examined everything in silence, searching for details they might have missed. The contract still made Kade's stomach twist. His own name appeared in the document, but he had never signed it. The agreement had been made when he was still a teenager, and it placed responsibility for his protection in Rhett's hands. Kade wondered whether his father had seen something in Rhett that nobody else could see or whether he had simply run out of people to trust.

Then Kade noticed something on the edge of the photograph.

He lifted it closer to the window. The image showed his father standing beside the black SUV, but there was a reflection in the vehicle's dark window. At first, Kade thought it was merely a shadow. Then he adjusted the angle, and a figure emerged from the reflection, standing several feet behind his father. The person was partially obscured, but Kade could make out a familiar university jacket and the shape of a face turned toward the camera.

He felt the blood drain from his face.

Rhett noticed immediately. What did you find?

Kade handed him the photograph without speaking. Rhett studied the reflection, and the muscles in his face tightened. He moved closer to the window, holding the image beneath the light, then turned it over and checked the date again.

That jacket, Kade whispered. I know that jacket.

Rhett looked at him. Who is it?

Kade swallowed. Coach Danner gave it to me last season. It was part of the team staff collection. I've seen him wearing it a hundred times.

Rhett examined the figure again. We can't identify him from this reflection alone.

But Kade had already recognized something else. The figure's left hand was resting against the side of the SUV, and a silver ring caught the light. Coach Danner wore a similar ring, a plain silver band he had once explained was a gift from an old friend. Kade remembered it because Danner used to tap it against his clipboard whenever he was thinking through a difficult play.

It could be him, Kade admitted, his voice shaking with anger. Or someone wearing the same jacket and ring. I don't know anymore.

Rhett placed the photograph carefully on the desk. That's why we need evidence before we accuse anyone.

Kade turned on him. And how long are you going to keep telling me to wait? Another six years? Until somebody else decides what I deserve to know?

Rhett's expression hardened, but he didn't raise his voice. I'm not asking you to wait six years. I'm asking you not to let someone manipulate you into making the wrong move. Your father spent years investigating this. If the people behind his disappearance were careless, he would have exposed them already.

Kade looked away, breathing hard. He knew Rhett was right, and that only made him angrier. His entire life had become a series of decisions made by people who claimed they were protecting him. His father had decided he was safer believing a lie. Rhett had decided he was safer without the truth. Now someone else was deciding which pieces of information he should receive and when. Kade was tired of being the person everyone else moved around like a piece on a chessboard.

I'm going to practice, he said.

Rhett stared at him as if he had misunderstood. Practice? Kade, you can't be serious.

I have a team to lead, a professional future to protect, and a coach who might be connected to my father's disappearance. If someone wants to destroy my career, I'm not going to help them by disappearing from the court.

You're not thinking clearly.

Maybe not. But at least I'm making my own decisions.

Kade grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Rhett followed, catching up with him in the hallway.

If you go to the training facility, I'm coming with you.

Kade spun around. I don't need a bodyguard.

Good, because I'm a terrible one. I charge extra for difficult clients.

Despite everything, a short, unwilling breath of laughter escaped Kade. It vanished almost immediately, but Rhett noticed it. For a second, something softened in his expression, and Kade remembered the boy he had known before their rivalry became so bitter. He remembered the way Rhett used to challenge him on the court, the way they could communicate with a glance during a game, and the strange comfort of having someone who understood his competitive instincts without needing an explanation.

Then Kade remembered the blood on the floor of his childhood home, and the softness disappeared.