Page 23

As we settle in, I can’t help but feel like we’ve just stepped into the eye of a hurricane.

And I think things are about to get a hell of a lot more interesting.

Kynan leans back in his own chair, hands steepled before his broad chest, eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses me and Mila.

He’s not one for unnecessary pleasantries, and I can tell he’s already calculating the risks and potential threats we’re dealing with based on what little information he’s been provided by Van.

Malik leans casually against the far wall, arms crossed, but his body language is deceptive. He’s laser-focused, eyes sharp as they scan Mila and me, already piecing together the puzzle before we’ve even spoken a word.

Kynan’s gaze shifts to me first. “So, tell me everything.”

My mind works to put our story into a timeline he can understand.

I tell him as succinctly as I can about the hazing incident, how Nathan died, and how both Mila and I knew who was involved.

I explain that it was our testimony that ensured those who killed Nathan were punished, but that our names were never given to the public.

“I’m assuming some people knew you and Mila were the ones who turned them in?” Kynan asks.

I nod. “It leaked, got around to the teammates. We never talked about it… never confirmed or denied, but people in our community knew.”

“And they weren’t happy,” Kynan says. A statement, not a question.

“The success of the hockey team was more important than a kid dying,” I reply bitterly. “At any rate, I’ve been harassed over the years by former members of the Wraiths. Nothing I couldn’t handle. But Mila’s getting serious threats now.”

Kynan’s gaze moves to Mila, waiting for her story.

“It started a few months ago,” she says, soft but steady. “At first there were texts, then the emails started. All anonymous. All increasingly more violent, but I couldn’t tell who they were coming from.”

Kynan’s jaw ticks. “How violent?”

Mila’s voice quavers slightly. “The first ones were… warnings. Threats calling me a liar. But lately…” She swallows, her fists tightening in her lap. “They’ve been worse. More direct. They said I’d pay for what I did. That I wouldn’t see it coming. That I’d suffer before I die.”

Kynan’s eyes harden, but it’s Malik who speaks first. “Jesus Christ.”

“Have you reported these threats to the police?” Kynan asks, all business now.

Mila nods. “I did. But they said without any concrete evidence or a clear suspect, there’s nothing they can do.”

“Typical,” Kynan mutters, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the desk as his piercing gaze locks onto Mila. “I assume you still have the messages?”

“Yes.” Mila’s hands tremble slightly as she pulls her phone from her pocket. She unlocks the screen and hands it to Kynan. “All the texts are there as well as the emails.”

He takes it without hesitation, his expression unreadable as he scrolls through the messages. His eyes narrow, and I see his jaw flex as he reads the chilling words that have haunted Mila.

“Malik.” Kynan hands over the phone without a word, and Malik’s easygoing demeanor vanishes as he steps forward, eyes scanning the screen with a sharp, practiced focus.

“Burner numbers without a doubt,” Malik mutters after a moment, shaking his head. “Untraceable. And the emails… all routed through VPNs, I’m sure. Whoever’s doing this knows how to cover their tracks, but we’ll run this through Bebe and she’ll be able to locate the source.”

“Really?” Mila asks hopefully.

Malik offers her an encouraging smile. “We’ve got the best and brightest electronic forensic analysts, but I’m giving this to Bebe Grimshaw, who is at the top of her field. If anyone can locate the source, it’s her.”

“Have you detected any patterns to the messages?” Kynan asks, his gaze flicking to Mila.

“Not that I can tell,” she says. “The messages are random. Sometimes a few days apart. Sometimes weeks. But they’re getting more frequent.”

“Escalation,” Kynan says grimly. “That’s not a good sign.”

“Tell me about the players who were punished for the hazing incident,” Malik says, setting Mila’s phone gently on the desk. His dark eyes meet mine, all business now. “Who are we looking at?”

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, fingers laced together. “There are four of them,” I say, voice tight with old anger. “Jace Holloway, Peter Brennan, Ryan DeLuca and Colton Briggs.”

“Brennan?” Kynan says, highbrows raised as his eyes dart to Mila.

She lifts her chin. “My older brother.”

Kynan grimaces, eyes flashing with empathy. “Where are they now?”

“Jace and Peter went to prison,” I say. “They took plea deals, served time. Jace has been out for about a year now. Peter gets out of prison today.”

Kynan and Malik exchange a glance, but it’s Malik who asks, “And the other two?”

“Ryan and Colton weren’t charged,” Mila answers. “They were kicked off the team and banned from junior hockey. Their careers never recovered.”

“Where are they now?” Kynan presses.

“Both still in Minnesota working jobs far below the prestige of professional hockey,” I provide.

“Which could be enough of a motive that they would do this,” Kynan muses.

“I talked to one of my former teammates, Jacob McLendon. He doesn’t think they’re involved.”

Malik chuckles darkly. “No one is off the suspect list, and that includes McLendon if he was pissed at you for this.”

“He was,” I admit ruefully. And while I had discounted Ryan and Colton based on what Jacob said, I’m glad Jameson will look at everything.

Kynan leans forward, clasping his hands on his desk. He looks directly at Mila. “What does your gut say? Who do you think it is?”

Her expression is tortured. “I don’t know. I’d say my brother because he got the longer sentence, but how could he have done it? He’s in prison. And Jace… well, he’s been out for a year. Why now? It makes no sense.”

Kynan’s gaze hardens. “Plenty of people in prison have ways of doing dirty deeds on the outside. If that team loyalty was as deep as you say it was, Jace, Ryan, Colton or all three could be doing this at Peter’s request.”

“Like I said,” Malik says, grabbing Mila’s phone from the desk. “No one is above suspicion. I’ll give this to Bebe. She’ll download all the data and I’ll have it back to you before you leave.”

Mila nods. “My password is—”

“No need,” Malik interrupts. “Passwords never stop Bebe.”

For some reason, that makes me feel pretty fucking good. I’m okay with these people bending the law to protect Mila. Malik gives us a stoic nod and leaves the office.

Kynan turns to his laptop and starts typing, presumably taking notes. As his fingers move over the keyboard, he asks, “Anything else I need to know?”

“The news article,” Mila says.

Fingers stilling on the keyboard, Kynan turns his attention to Mila in silent request to continue.

She explains about the reporter and her intent to out herself as a safety measure, figuring if the spotlight was on her, no one would be stupid enough to make a move.

“Jillian did a good job with it,” she says, almost hesitantly.

“I told her everything I could without naming Penn. I thought…” She swallows hard, eyes lowering.

“I thought getting the truth out there would protect me.”

“Did it?” Kynan asks, his expression unreadable.

Mila’s lips press into a thin line. “Not the way I’d hoped.”

Kynan’s brow arches. “What kind of response have you had?”

Mila glances at me briefly before speaking. “It’s been… mixed.” She shifts in her seat, her eyes darting to me before landing back on Kynan. “Some people have been supportive. Strangers, mostly. They call me brave. But…” She trails off, her throat working as she swallows again.

“But the ones who matter most weren’t as forgiving,” I finish softly, knowing exactly who she’s talking about.

Mila’s jaw clenches, her eyes glassy but refusing to spill tears.

“My parents disowned me a long time ago for turning Peter in,” she says tightly.

“But after the article came out…” Her lips tremble, and she shakes her head, eyes dropping to her lap.

“My mom sent me a message. Told me I was a disgrace.”

“And did the threats ramp up after that?” Kynan asks calmly, but the undercurrent of anger is unmistakable.

Mila nods, her fingers twisting tighter. “Almost immediately.” She meets Kynan’s gaze, her blue eyes filled with vulnerability. “I thought coming forward would make me safer… but now I feel more exposed than ever.”

Kynan’s jaw ticks, his expression hardening. “Public exposure like that can be a double-edged sword,” he murmurs. “It puts a spotlight on the situation, but it also makes you a target.”

“Do you think the article could flush out whoever’s been threatening her?” I ask, my mind already racing ahead.

“Possibly,” Kynan replies thoughtfully. “It’s not uncommon for threats to escalate after a public statement. Whoever’s behind this might feel backed into a corner. Desperation makes people reckless.”

“Which could make them easier to catch?” I press.

“Theoretically,” Kynan agrees, his eyes alight with curiosity. “Sounds like you might have an idea.”

“Yeah,” I say, fully confident in what I’m about to propose.

“We out me as the other person. It’s bound to happen, but let me at least be in control of the narrative.

I’ll talk to that same reporter for a follow-up article, and I’ll goad whoever is making the threats.

We force them into the spotlight right with us. ”

“That’s too dangerous,” Mila exclaims angrily. “I won’t let you do that.”

“You don’t have a say in what I do, Mila.” Not harshly, but there is no room for debate. Her eyes drop away and I turn back to Kynan. “It’s a good idea, right?”

“It could work,” he agrees hesitantly. “But Mila’s right… you might really piss them off and make them come after you even harder.”

“I want them to know they’ve fucked with the wrong person,” I growl, and Kynan’s lips curve, but it’s a predator’s smile—sharp, calculating and dangerous.

But just so he understands who the wrong person is, I turn to Mila and take her hand.

“If it were just me, I wouldn’t bother. But it’s you they seem fixated on, so I say let’s stir up some shit and dare those fuckers to come after us. ”

Kynan appraises Mila but turns his attention to me. “I guess I’m not getting why Mila seems to be the one they’re focusing on.”

I lift a shoulder. “My guess is because without Mila, none of this would have happened. My testimony alone wasn’t enough. Mila’s corroboration is what gave the police what they needed to make arrests. She was the nail in the coffin.”

“Then putting attention on you could take the heat a little off Mila,” Kynan muses.

Mila’s eyes lock onto mine and she stares for a long moment.

“It’s the best plan,” I say to her.

I can see resolution take hold as she straightens, shoulders squaring. “Okay… let’s do it.”

Kynan starts typing again. “Okay. Let’s break this down.

” After a few more keystrokes, he swivels back to us.

“Here’s what I can do for you. We’ll do a deep dive into the threats by tracing the digital footprint as best we can.

If there’s even the smallest crack in their anonymity, we’ll find it.

I’m going to send agents to talk to these guys.

In fact, I’d like to catch Peter by surprise, given that he’s walking out of prison today.

We’ll jump on him fast but give me a few days and we’ll have made contact with all of them. ”

My head spins. This is so much more than I had anticipated. Jameson is going on the offensive for us. They’re going to confront Peter today. I’m seriously fucking impressed.

“You’ll need protection,” Kynan continues smoothly.

“We’ll put surveillance on both of you, around the clock, at least two agents at all times.

We’ll check out your security system and upgrade it if necessary.

Cameras, alarms and if needed, boots on the ground.

No one gets near you without us knowing. ”

Mila’s eyes widen. “That… seems expensive.”

Kynan laughs, his eyes crinkling as he jerks his head my way. “I think your boyfriend is good for the money.”

“Drop in the bucket,” I say reassuringly, and not correcting him on his identification of me as her boyfriend. It seems a little immature—more like partners in after-crime—but I like it. “Spend whatever it takes.”

Kynan nods. “I don’t take half measures when it comes to protecting my clients.”

“This is more than I could have hoped for,” I tell Kynan and I hope he can hear my gratitude.

“This is what we do, Penn,” Kynan says softer, but still firm. “And we don’t lose.”

I glance at Mila, who’s staring at Kynan like he’s offering her a lifeline. Which, I guess… he is.

“What do you think?” I ask her gently. “You good?”

Mila swallows hard, responding with quiet confidence. “More than good. I feel… hopeful.”

“Good,” Kynan says with a curt nod, rising to his feet. “Then let’s get started. I’ll coordinate with my team and Malik will be in charge. We’ll get eyes on both of you by this afternoon and I’ll need to know your travel schedule. We can bump up security on Mila when you’re gone.”

“Mila is going to travel with me,” I say, a pronouncement that has Mila jerking in surprise. “Will your agents travel?”

“Absolutely.” Kynan rounds the desk toward us, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “We’ll keep you both safe.”

I nod, my throat tight as I fight back the surge of emotion threatening to choke me. It’s not me I’m worried about but knowing that Mila won’t be harmed with these badass motherfuckers on our side has me overwhelmed with relief.

“Thank you,” I manage.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Kynan mutters, his expression grim. “We’re just getting started.”