The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

“So?”

“I knew someone who collected old cars and had a nineteen fifty-four blue Ford Thunderbird. He also worked at the arena.”

Bella’s eyes bulged. “Are you kidding? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I held her gaze. “Because the person was John Barrett.”

Bella’s forehead wrinkled. “What?”

“I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“That it was his car that killed your mother.”

Bella clutched her heart. “You think John Barrett killed my mother?”

I took her other hand and squeezed. “I can’t prove he was the driver, but it was his car that hit her, Bella. Coach inherited John’s car collection when he died. He still has them, so I had someone compare the tire marks. It’s a match.”

Bella abruptly stood. “I’m gonna be sick again.” She ran for the bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet bowl. I gathered her hair and held it from her face as she heaved.

Nothing came up, but her body tried anyway. After a few minutes, she lifted her head. “Are you sure?” Her face was pleading, and I wished with everything in me that I wasn’t.

But I nodded. “I am.”

“How could the police not have known? They went through all the local owners of both cars that the witnesses described. I remember the detective telling me that.”

“Classic cars don’t have titles, so they probably checked registrations. John owned a lot of collectible cars and bought and sold them under a corporate name. The corp was a dealership, so he had dealer plates he used to drive them—meaning he didn’t have to register the individual cars.”

She leaned an elbow on the toilet bowl and held her head. “The arena had cameras all around the exits, but the one that might’ve caught the accident was broken that night. At least according to the arena…which John owned.” Bella shook her head. “How long were you going to keep this from me? Until your contract was renewed?”

“What?” I jolted back. “Of course not. My contract renewal has nothing to do with this. I didn’t tell you because I hoped I was wrong and wanted to avoid having to dredge up a lot of stuff from your past. You said yourself you didn’t want to look back anymore.”

“How long have you known about it?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Maybe a month?”

“A month?”

“To be honest, I forgot about it for a few weeks. A while back you mentioned the type of cars involved in your mom’s accident. John had once shown me his classic car collection, and I could’ve sworn he had a blue Thunderbird, but I figured I was crazy for even thinking he might be involved and no one knew. But then a few weeks later, the old cars came up again when I was talking to Coach, and I asked about them. One thing led to another after that.”

“Does my grandfather know? Is that why he suddenly wants to get rid of the cars?”

“Definitely not. I’ve never shared my suspicion. When I asked him about the cars, it just reminded him that he’d wanted to donate them.”

Bella stared off at nothing in particular. “Did he kill my mother intentionally?”

“I don’t know, Bella.”

She was quiet again, until her eyes grew wide. “Oh my God. Is John Barrett even my father? Or is the team a payoff for what he did to my mother?”

My brows puckered. “What do you mean? Didn’t you have to prove he was your dad during the probate contest? I remember Tiffany and Rebecca holding a press conference when news first broke about the inheritance. They’d said they were going to court to ask for proof that you were John’s daughter, because they didn’t believe you were.”

“My lawyer said it didn’t matter because it wouldn’t change the outcome of the inheritance. The will had been worded so that the team was left to Bella Keating, not to his daughter. All the stuff about him being my father was in a separate letter that wasn’t part of the will. I actually didn’t mind taking a test, but my lawyer was against it because it would have wasted more time and money. He also thought it was an unnecessary violation of my privacy and was against my DNA going in some database for no reason. The judge agreed. Plus, why would a stranger leave someone a billion-dollar inheritance? And my mom worked there, so it made sense since they’d have known each other.”

“Jesus Christ.” I raked a hand through my hair. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know. I need some time to process this.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Bella just kept shaking her head. “You should have told me, Christian.”

“I was planning to. I’m sorry you found out this way instead.”

“I am too.” She frowned. “I’d like you to go.”

“Go where?”

“I need to be alone, to think. I can’t wrap my head around everything.”

Leaving was the last thing I wanted, but I wasn’t going to give her a hard time, not after the bomb I’d dropped. So I nodded. “Okay. I’ll go to give you space, but promise you’ll call me if you want to talk later or if you need anything?”

She sort of half nodded, not really committing.