Page 24

Mila

I ’ve always hated the sound of power drills. That whirring whine grates on my nerves, but today… not so much. Today it represents upgrades that Jameson is making to Penn’s security system.

In addition to the drilling are faint thuds echoing from somewhere deeper in the house.

The noise of fortification and it’s oddly comforting.

Knowing Jameson Force Security is here, hard at work, reinforcing the windows, updating the locks, and installing new surveillance gear finally gives me some measure of comfort.

Deep in my heart, I know these efforts are probably not needed.

That Penn is wasting money doing this because he’s already got a fortress, but I think he’s doing it for me.

To make me feel heard, my fears understood.

That alone makes me lose more of my heart to him.

I stand in his kitchen, barefoot on the tile, watching the steam rise from a mug of tea I haven’t touched.

Penn’s in the great room talking to one of the tech guys, his expression unreadable as he nods along to some update.

After we met with Kynan McGrath this morning, I went with Penn to the arena for a practice session.

He set me up in one of the associate coach’s offices so I could work and then after, we hustled back to his place to meet Malik.

That particular Jameson agent is a man on a mission. He’s been moving in and out like a shadow, issuing orders with quiet authority, keeping the entire operation running like clockwork.

We’ve learned more about Malik Fournier today while he oversees the security upgrades.

It came out casually, in the way people who’ve been through hell sometimes speak about it like it’s just another fact, that he was on a mission in Syria when everything went sideways.

Captured. Held for months in a makeshift prison, a hole dug into the desert floor—ten feet deep, chained at the ankle like some forgotten animal.

He was starved, isolated, barely kept alive, and left to rot in a shack where the only view he had of the world was a scrap of sky through a single window.

Jameson rescued him. Not the government—Jameson.

They found him, took out the guards, and pulled him from that pit to safety.

And somehow, he’s still standing here today—quiet, steady, watching everything like he sees threats the rest of us can’t. It makes you look at him differently, knowing what he survived. What he came back from.

It should feel invasive—strangers combing through Penn’s house, wiring things, testing alarms—but somehow, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because they move with purpose, or maybe because I know they’re doing it for me.

Penn steps into the kitchen, his expression relaxed. He gives me a small beat of a smile, something I’m still getting used to. “You ready?” he asks.

“Are you?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do it.”

I glance at the phone in my hand, hesitating only a moment. It’s up to me to do my part now and after a long discussion with Penn on the way home from the arena, it’s time to enact the next part of our plan.

I scroll through to my contact that simply says Jillian and tap the screen to dial her number. I select speakerphone so I can hear her loud and clear when she picks up after the second ring.

“Mila,” she says, her voice sharp with worry. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I say with a nervous laugh. “It’s okay. I mean… it’s stable right now.”

“Thank God,” she huffs out with relief. “I was worried after you tried to get me to stop the article. I was afraid it might put you in danger.”

“It’s fine,” I reassure her, my eyes cutting to Penn who stares right back at me with conviction. “I was more worried about it outing the other witness. I wanted to protect his privacy.”

“His?” she drawls expectantly, going into investigative journalist mode. “So, the other witness was a man? Would he be a player on the Wraiths?”

She asked me this before, but I refused to bring Penn into it. Now, I’m going to make Jillian’s dreams come true.

“It is,” I say, nerves fluttering like dragonflies in my stomach. “I’m ready to share the identity of the other witness. He’s here with me, and he’s willing to talk. You’re on speaker.”

I set the phone down and Penn places his elbows on the counter to either side, leaning over it so he can be heard. “This is Penn Navarro.”

Jillian is silent and I wonder if we’ve been disconnected. But then she responds in almost in a hushed whisper of awe. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Not kidding,” he says, cool and calm. “I’m willing to grant you an exclusive interview about my role in this.”

“When?” she exclaims. “I can do it right now.”

“We’ll get to a time and place,” he says, shooting me a wry smile. “But first… I need you to agree to something.”

Dead silence on her end for a second. “I’m listening.”

“You have to print what I tell you, word for word.”

“Of course I’d do that.” She sounds indignant. “I don’t fluff my pieces.”

“I’m not saying you do, but more than just giving you the facts of what happened, I’m going to issue a challenge to the people who are threatening Mila. And you have to be okay with that going in print.”

“A challenge?” she asks, sounding slightly confused, but then she immediately gets it. “It’s no longer about getting them to back off but luring them into the open.”

“Exactly. I’ve got security on Mila so she’s safe, but this needs to end. So, are you in?”

“I—wow,” Jillian breathes. “This is huge, but I’m in.”

“You’ll need to get on a flight tonight,” Penn says without hesitation. “I want the article out immediately. We’ll meet in person tomorrow morning before our team’s skate.”

“You’re serious.”

“Very.”

“I can make that happen,” she says quickly. “Where should I meet you?”

Penn rattles off a hotel name and address. “I’ll reserve a room for you.”

“You won’t regret this,” she promises. “This story—it’s going to shake things up. And I’ll make sure it’s told the right way.”

Penn ends the call without any fanfare. “We’ll see,” he mutters, sliding the phone back over to me.

I haven’t been able to shake my worry over this plan though. I tried to talk him out of it, but that conversation was short-lived. “Are you sure this is the right choice? Maybe we should just let Jameson do their thing.”

“I have every confidence they’ll work hard to resolve this, but in case you don’t remember, I’m an offensive player. I’m taking this fight to them and I’m not waiting. I want this shit over so I can get on with my life.”

He sounds so angry yet determined, and part of my heart sinks because that sounds like he wants everything to do with the hazing incident to go away. But then he amends, “I want us to be able to get on with our lives.”

Now my heart melts and I reach a hand out to him, but Malik steps into the kitchen, brushing drywall dust off his jacket sleeve.

“We’re done. Cameras are online with a direct feed to our server where someone will monitor twenty-four seven.

Security codes are updated and on an encrypted app that you’ll both have access to and will change every thirty seconds.

All exterior corners now have motion sensors as well as perimeter cameras. We’ve got eyes on every angle.”

“Wow,” I murmur, not just feeling comfort but a little empowerment.

“We’ll have an agent patrolling at all times. You won’t see them, but they’ll see you.”

“And for the away games next week?” Penn asks.

“I haven’t decided who will accompany you yet, but you’ll have someone within eyesight of Mila at all times. Did you get permission to have us accompany you on the team plane?”

My head whips toward Penn. “You want me on the team plane?”

He’d suggested I travel with him to the away games until this is over, even though I pointed out that I will be plenty safe here at his house.

But he wouldn’t hear any of it. His theory is that because he’s a public figure, whoever is threatening me isn’t going to make a move when I am with him.

I’m not so sure about that, but I didn’t argue.

My work is mobile and I can easily travel with him.

“I talked to Callum and Brienne a bit ago. They’re both in agreement that you and security should travel with the team. In Callum’s words, it will cut down on my worry with you being out of my sight while traveling commercially. Translation: A stress-free player is a good player.”

“Stressing you out is the last thing I want,” I assure him.

To my surprise, he laughs and it sounds like genuine amusement. “Mila, you’ve been one cloud of stress since the day I met you. But we’re going to change that.”

I should be offended, but a slight heat in his eyes accompanies his words, and I know the stress he’s endured seems to have been worth it.

Malik coughs and we both turn his way. “We’ve already got agents en route to interview all four of the guys—Jace, Peter, Ryan and Colton,” Malik continues. “We’re digging deep into their digital history. Hopefully, they’re willing to talk to us.”

“If they don’t, isn’t that sort of an indication of guilt?” I ask.

“Maybe,” Malik says with a shrug. “We’re also chasing down their whereabouts for the last ninety days, as well as known associates. Bebe’s making progress on tracking the burner phones. She’s found a few anomalies worth following.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” I murmur.

“More than everything. In fact, Bebe is trying to access Peter’s prison communications so we can see who he’s been in contact with.”

“Damn,” I exclaim with appreciation. “You have great contacts.”

Malik’s eyes flash with mischief. “Not always. In this instance, let me just say that Bebe has ways of getting information.”

I exhale shakily. “And you’ll let us know if anything breaks?”