Playmaker - Jami Davenport

Prologue

~~Delaney~~

I drummed my fingers on the table and glanced around the dark hotel bar, as I always did. For the past year, looking over my shoulder had become second nature to me, as natural as breathing.

One moment I’d been doing my dream job in DC, the next I’d been running for my life. Being with Kaden was the only time I truly felt alive and at peace in my fucked-up world.

I checked my burner cell for the tenth time. Kaden, being a bit of a free spirit, was twenty minutes late. Even his time-telling disability didn’t dampen my enthusiasm for all things Kaden. I’d wait forever for that man, assuming, of course, that I had forever to wait.

Kaden Westbrook was the love of my life, but he didn’t know it, and he never would, because my life was shit. I wasn’t allowed to be in love. I was barely allowed to live. To drag him any further into this mess endangered his life, and I wouldn’t be able to draw another breath if his blood was on my hands. He was the one good thing that’d happened to me since I’d fled DC late last summer.

I twisted the paper napkin in my hands and swept my gaze around the bar one more time. No one was paying any attention to me. I slid farther into the corner of the booth and closer to the window in an effort to keep a low profile and watch for Kaden.

A year ago, I’d been living the high life in Washington DC, the daughter of a powerful man, looking forward to taking on his legacy of public service. I would be a voice for the oppressed and downtrodden. I had great aspirations, and I had the tools to achieve my lofty goals. I was young, only twenty-three, with a fresh degree in political science from Harvard, and ready to take on the world.

Yeah, well, dreams didn’t always come true. In my case, mine had become a nightmare.

Tonight was my twenty-fourth birthday. Instead of spending it with family and friends at some posh restaurant, I’d be spending it with Kaden in this nondescript hotel. Not a bad trade-off if the rest of my life wasn’t shit.

My reflection in the window caught my eye. I was once again taken aback by the stranger staring back. My long black hair was now shoulder-length and blonde, my makeup was heavier than I preferred, and my clothes were from the thrift shop on First Avenue. Even so, I worried whether the changes to my appearance were enough. But then, I worried about everything anymore. That once-confident, poised young lady had been reduced to a confused hot mess of a girl.

My cell rang and I grabbed it, expecting an apology from Kaden.

“Where are you?” As I said the words, I noted he was now thirty minutes late.

“Delaney?”

I balked at the use of my real name. Kaden didn’t know me by any name other than Lanie. The few other people I knew in my new life called me Laina.

“Who is this?” My voice rose slightly. I was immediately defensive and ready to fight or take flight.

“It’s Robert. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Robert Klanden was a longtime family friend, my savior, and one of the few people who had this number.

Almost everyone else thought I was dead.

“Robert, what’s up?” My voice faded to a raw whisper. I wasn’t sure why, but I always whispered when speaking to anyone involved in the tragic events of my past.

“Did you see the news?”

“Uh, no, I never watch the news anymore.”

“Then you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?” I desperately hoped he wasn’t saying what I feared he was saying. I clutched the phone tightly and held my breath.

“He’s out.”

Those two words changed my life—what was left of it. A cold chill swept through me. “He’s out?” I must have misunderstood him. I had to have misunderstood him. I had very few pleasures in life, and if his words were true, I wouldn’t even have those.

“He’s been released from prison.” In typical Robert fashion, he spoke the words with the same calm as if he were discussing the weather. Deep down, he wasn’t that calm. I knew this about him. He was a rock on the outside and a boiling-hot caldron on the inside.

I pushed aside my concerns for Robert and concentrated on what he’d said. He’s out.

Who in their right mind would release a man who’d done what he’d done?

“How? Why?” I struggled to come to