He sank onto the couch and held his head in his hands. He had to find a way to fix things. Football was his life. What he loved to do. It was as integral a part of him as his heart was. He’d just have to find a way.
When his cell rang again for the tenth time in the last hour, he let the call go to voice mail. His coaches kept calling, but he needed to deal with the news the doc had just given him before he could talk about his knee with anyone on the team. He’d write them another sugar-coated text about the state of his knee after he calmed down some.
Maybe if he worked harder, did even more than Jo asked, he could get back on track.
Ryan’s stocking feet appeared, so Chad raised his head. “Hey, Ry.”
“You’re late. Did my mom call?”
“Nope. Sorry.” Damn Linda. He’d sent her a text and an email with a custody agreement attached, but she wasn’t talking to him. But if he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she was still traveling and didn’t have Internet access. “How was your day off with Heather?”
“Okay. Can I have a snack?”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.” Chad wasn’t in the mood for a fight. The last thing he wanted to do was argue about what Ryan could have for a damn snack.
Ryan blinked at him. “Anything? Even some of Heather’s cookies?”
“Whatever.” Chad leaned back and grabbed the remote. “If you want to eat crap and stay scrawny your whole life, then eat cookies. If it were me, I’d have some fruit.”
Ryan headed for the kitchen with a frown on his face. He reemerged a few minutes later with a banana and sat beside Chad. “Whatcha watching?” He stuck the banana out for Chad to help peel.
“Good choice.” He fist bumped Ryan. Then he ripped open the banana and handed it back. “Monday night pregame stuff. We don’t want the Chiefs to win tonight.”
“How come?”
“Because they’re our rivals, of course.” He ruffled Ryan’s hair and made him laugh. “Our job is to beat them so we can win the championship and then go on to the Super Bowl.”
“That’d be good, right? Is Jo coming soon?”
“Yep. That’d be very good. And Jo should be here any minute.” He turned his attention to what the announcers were saying about the game later. But then a picture of him in full uniform appeared on the screen, and the announcer said, “San Diego wide receiver Chad Jenks appears to be lying to his coaches about his medical progress after the hit he took early last month during the Raiders game.”
Chad watched the video of the hit, and then they cut to him limping around his gym during a workout, and his heart lurched. Copies of text messages he’d sent from his phone to his coaches saying he was healing well and almost better appeared on the screen and made a liar out of him.
“An unnamed source says Chad is desperate to save his starting position, but he is only hurting the team by not revealing the extent of his injuries. We asked for a statement from the Chargers organization, but they declined to comment. In other news—”
Chad hit the mute button on the remote and sat in equal parts disbelief and fury. Who the hell would do that to him? Could do that? Who had access to his phone? And his workouts?
Only Jo.
He’d just given her the code to his phone on Saturday night. And she’d been filming his workouts all along. But she’d never do that to him. Would she?
Had she just been waiting for the opportunity to betray him? Would Jo really stoop so low? Was it her way of getting out of rehabbing him? Had she just been pretending to be friends again to get information to ruin him?
Jo was the last person he’d ever think would betray him. It hurt as badly as the prospect of never playing again. She knew how much it meant to him to play.
Or was it revenge? For what he’d done to her all those years ago? For not believing her and not being there when Bryce died?
When the elevators doors parted, Jo appeared. “I just heard the news in the car, Chad. Hi, Ryan.” She sat on the couch next to Ryan, tossed her things beside her, and picked up the remote. “How did they get your texts?”
His jaw was clenched so tight, it was hard to spit out, “They have video too. Shot here. In my own damned gym! Who beside you had access to my gym and my phone, Jo?”
Jo’s jaw dropped. “You’re accusing me of doing this?”
“Who else would I blame!”
“Stop yelling. You’re scaring Ryan.”
He leaned down and got in her face. “I don’t care! Answer the question, Jo. Why did you do this to me?” He saw red, he was so angry with her. And damned hurt that she’d do that to him.