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“So, you suckered him into one over the plate.” I laugh.
“Right in my fucking wheelhouse.” Kayce grins a mile wide as he claps me on my shoulder.
When we make it back to the locker room, I take a seat on the bench in front of my stuff and let out a long breath. I roll my shoulders and try to release some of the tension from how stressful that game was.
We pulled it off, sure. But the bullshit between Spencer and Davis is starting to mess with the team. A self-fulfilling prophecy, so to speak.
Fuck, I’m so tense. I get up and start stripping off my gear. I need a hot shower and a massage. Maybe I should go see Asher about my arm. I wince as I move it around. It’s sore, and I think I pulled something when I was making a play at the bottom of the fifth.
Grabbing my phone, I head next door into the room where the trainers and Asher’s office are at. When I walk in, I see Asher talking with Drew and doing arm motions with him. They look a bit tense with their conversation. I slowly make my way toward them.
“You need to work your shit out with Cameron. It’s doing exactly what he said it would do.” Asher rubs Drew’s arm.
“It’s only happening because he isn’t communicating with me. He purposely called shitty pitches and set up in the wrong spots. He did this, not me!” Drew defends.
I let out a huff, and they both turn in my direction.
“If I have to hear it from you, I’m gonna lose it.” Drew shakes his head and tips it back, closing his eyes and letting out a groan.
“Maybe you should hear it from everyone,” Asher offers.
I stand there with my hands on my hips, not saying a word as I study the both of them. Neither of them is saying what they’re truly thinking.
They can’t let her leave.
We all think that. Well, all of us except Cam.
“Maybe there’s a way to set her up at her own place. You know, give the girl her own space.” Asher shrugs.
“She wants to go home, back in New York,” I grunt, running a hand down my face.
I hate it. Every bone in my body wants to pull her close and keep her safe. Yet the logical side of me knows that isn’t possible.
She doesn’t want to be here.Weare keeping her here. Are we really any different than the asshole who kidnapped her? And that gets me thinking…
“Hey, have you heard from John?” I frown as I look at Drew.
He shakes his head. “Actually, no. Haven’t heard from him in weeks. Maybe he’s working a case or something.”
“But have you told him about Rae remembering things?” Asher presses.
He nods. “Yeah, messaged him. Called him and left voicemails. Even emailed him. But he’s been busy.” Drew bites his lip as he rubs the back of his neck.
“I wouldn’t think this would be something he would put off,” I say uneasily. He would want to break this case wide open. Find the guy who did this to her.
Something isn’t sitting right with me.
When I make it back to my locker, almost everyone is in the training rooms talking to press, or taking a shower. There are a few of us still in the locker room getting dressed.
Looking up at the top of my cubby, I see a black envelope. Instantly, I freeze. My throat tightens, and I can feel my heart race.
I pick it up and turn it over to see a skull on the front with the Latin phaseSatanas Libertus Est.
Satan is freedom.
A chill runs down my spine. It’s the Society. The Black Skulls.
I swallow over the lump in my throat. They aren’t giving me a choice anymore. My father made that perfectly clear. I never wanted this. I can’t be part of this.