I didn’t have any advice for him right now. It was back to the drawing board. “I’m sorry, Jefferson,” I said. “I actually have to get going.”
“Oh, okay.” He looked down at his feet and started walking toward the stands.
What was he doing? “Jefferson, wait. I’ll talk to you. Just let me clean up this stuff. I’ll meet you by my car.”
He smiled and nodded, then hurried off to the parking lot.
The hitwoman was already on the move.Shit.I tried not to look like I was staring at her, as I hurried towards her. But I was pretty sure she saw me because she picked up her speed. Not fast enough this time, though.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it as I caught her arm.
She turned around and looked up at me. “Matt.” She didn’t say it like she was about to kill me. She said it like she had no idea why I was touching her.
“I know you’re working for Richard Pruitt.”
“What?”
Rob and Tanner were coming this way. I gripped her wrist a little harder. “Tell me everything you know and no one needs to get hurt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I studied her face and only saw…confusion. “How much money did he pay you to kill me?” I demanded.
“Kill you? What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Matt.” She pulled her arm out of my grasp. “You have no right to touch me after you never called me. I waited weeks like a freaking idiot.”
I lowered my eyebrows. So I was right. I had slept with her? But what the hell did that have to do with anything?
“And the whole time you were with someone else? I don’t even want to know if that woman is your wife. I don’t want to be pulled into your mess of a life.”
“My wife?”
“I saw you with that redhead and the cute little girl.”
I remembered the first time this woman had run off. Right after she saw me with Penny and Scarlett. “Wait, you’ve been running away from me because you think I’m married?”
“I’ve been avoiding you because you’re a dick.”
“Then what the hell are you doing here stalking me?”
“Stalking you? God, I’d rather be anywhere than talking to you. But I came to see Henry’s practice.”
“What?”
“My son, Henry Jefferson. The kicker.”
This woman was Jefferson’s mom? What the fuck was going on? “So you don’t work for Mr. Pruitt?”
“I have no idea who you’re even talking about.”
Her being Jefferson’s mom explained why she’d been to some games and practices. But it didn’t explain everything. “Why did you follow me at the cemetery?”
“I didn’t follow you. I was there to put flowers on my late husband’s grave.”
Oh fuck.It all finally hit me. I’d slept with Jefferson’s mom? That was so wrong on so many levels. And not only that, but she was a widow. She was absolutely right. I was a dick.
