Take a Chance on Me(47)

A hometown boy drafted by the Bears had been big news a few years back. But now, at the height of his career, with a fat contract and too much wildness for his own good, he was a media favorite. He was in the paper as much for his exploits as his wide receiver skills.

“That’d be the one,” Charlie said.

“I’d think he’d be too busy chasing his next piece of supermodel ass to come get Maddie.” Mitch could only hope, because he couldn’t ignore that it was the offseason and training camp didn’t start until the end of July.

“Don’t know.” Charlie scrubbed at his jaw. “Maddie seems awfully close to her brothers, but he’s not my main concern.”

A local football player prone to creating media frenzies showing up in Revival was about the worst problem Mitch could think up. “Just spit it out for f*ck’s sake! This isn’t a soap opera—you don’t need to pause for dramatic effect.”

Charlie shot him an amused glance. “Fine, her other brother is Shane Donovan.”

Mitch blinked. He couldn’t have heard correctly. “You’re shitting me.”

“’Fraid not.”

Mitch placed his palms flat on the bar to steady himself. This was not good. Maddie’s brother was one of the most connected and influential people in Chicago.

The pieces from Maddie’s past clicked into place, forming a new image of one Shane Donovan. Bits of news articles flashed in Mitch’s mind. After the man’s father had died in a tragic car accident, leaving his family financially destitute and on the edge of disaster, Shane had built a commercial real estate company from scratch until he held contracts all over the city. He knew everyone: teamsters, union     heads, the mayor, CEOs. Everyone who was anyone.

He was not the kind of guy who’d let his sister go missing.

“If even half the stories are true, he’ll be coming for his baby sister sooner rather than later,” Charlie said, echoing Mitch’s own thoughts. “His revenge is legendary, and I doubt he’ll take lightly to you corrupting her.”

Little did Charlie know that Mitch had been a virtual saint when it came to Maddie, although he doubted that her brother would bother with the particulars.

He raked his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

Charlie smirked. “I think that pretty much sums it up.”

Mitch’s gripped tightened on the bar until his knuckles turned white. “He’s had run-ins with dear old dad.”

“Yep,” Charlie said, almost sounding cheerful. “And you don’t have the best reputation.”

A chill settled low in Mitch’s gut. This had trouble written all over it. He took a deep breath and loosened his death grip on the counter. “I’ll worry about it when the time comes.”

Charlie shook his head, giving Mitch the resigned, hardened look he reserved for lifelong criminals. “You never f*cking learn, do you?”

Mitch crossed his arms. All his instincts warned of trouble, but he was damned if he intended to listen. Charlie was right: he hadn’t learned a f*cking thing.





Chapter Thirteen



Maddie ran down the dark sidewalk, her gym shoes pounding on the pavement as the humid night air hit her face. Restless and unable to sit still after the phone conversation with Steve, she’d paced through the house, her mind tumbling with thoughts about both her past and her future. The mental gymnastics did nothing to wear her out, so she decided that the only cure was a run.

She hadn’t exercised in a week, and as soon as she hit her stride she remembered why she’d taken up the habit in the first place. It calmed her mind and soothed away all the jagged edges of her emotions. She sucked in a lungful of air, loving the smell of grass and summer.

Out of nowhere, the sound of her dad’s loud, boisterous laugh filled her mind, so crystal clear that it made her want to look over her shoulder to see if he was there. Her chest tightened at the bittersweet remembrance. To her surprise, the familiar loss and ache of grief didn’t hit her like a ton of bricks the way it normally did. Instead, a distant, long-forgotten memory pricked at the corners of her mind.

She’d been twelve, caught between being a child and becoming a teenager, filled with all the emotional upheaval of that age. She’d been upset because her mom had signed her up for dance class instead of the cool abstract sculpture class she’d wanted to take. Her mom had insisted Maddie needed to be a “more well-rounded young lady,” and wasn’t it nice that Penelope was also taking dance? Maddie’s temper had flared, and she’d stomped around the kitchen, kicking up a fuss about how her mom probably wished Penelope were her daughter because she was perfect and Maddie wasn’t even close.

Patrick Donovan had scolded Maddie for her outburst and upsetting her mother, and then he’d taken her fishing at a nearby lake. She’d hated fishing almost as much as she’d hated ballet, and she’d sat there, a sullen, resentful tween refusing to even hold the pole. Her dad just shrugged and cast his line. They drifted along in the quiet for a good forty-five minutes before he broke the silence.

“You know, I’ve never told anyone this before, but when Evan was born your mom cried because she’d wanted a girl so bad.”

The admission shook Maddie from her sulk. “Really?”

He nodded, solemnly. “Now, I’m trusting you not to run off and tell him. She was disappointed to have lost her girl, but she didn’t love him any less than a mother should.”