Page 8

Penn

T he locker room is always filled with energy after a good practice. It’s the start of getting our minds set for the next game tomorrow night against the Columbus Hawks. Laughter echoes off the walls, easy banter tossed between teammates as they dress and sling gear into their bags.

As usual, I don’t join in.

I sit at my cubby, pulling on my socks, aware of the sideways glances in my direction. No one talks to me. No one acknowledges me.

It doesn’t bother me because I’ve earned this distance.

I’ve built up a proverbial wall since the day I signed with this team.

If anyone asked my former Florida Spartan teammates if I was like this before, the answer would be yes.

After leaving the Wraiths and entering the professional league, I brought with me the absolute certainty that there is no true loyalty among men.

Ironically, I’m well aware that many people hate me because they think I breached loyalty for turning in those responsible for Nathan’s death.

That’s okay… because I hate them in return for not being loyal to me.

It only proved that individual greed and ego is what drives people, not doing what’s right. Call me jaded, but that’s how I am.

While I don’t ordinarily mind the silent treatment from my teammates, I do have a problem that probably needs fixing.

Yesterday morning, I took a shot at North, made a scene in front of the entire team, and gave them yet another reason to steer clear of me.

Not that they needed one—I’ve spent the last year making sure they knew I didn’t give a shit about being part of their brotherhood.

I keep my head down, tying my laces, listening as the room around me buzzes with post-practice chatter. Stone and Boone are talking about plans for the night. Atlas is laughing at something Bain said. King’s talking to Willa on the phone, but I can feel his eyes flick toward me every so often.

I know I need to fix things with North. I lost my shit in the worst way.

No matter my personal boundaries when it comes to relationships on this team, what I did was not cool.

I had no right to touch him. It was beyond the pale of decency that I threatened to kill him.

I owe him an apology for my words and actions, and I’ll get to it.

Eventually.

But that’s not my priority right now. I’ve got something far more important to handle.

I pull my hoodie on and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder.

As I walk toward the exit I can feel eyes on my back, but I ignore them.

I traverse the hallway that circles the basement level of the arena to a private elevator leading to the executive floor.

I use my security badge to gain access and take it to the top.

When I step into the lobby, the receptionist barely glances up from her computer.

“I need to see Callum Derringer,” I say.

She peers up through her glasses. “I’m sorry, Mr. Navarro. He’s in a meeting with Ms. Norcross.”

It wouldn’t hurt to go ahead and include Brienne on this. I didn’t ask for her because if anyone’s too busy to deal with this bullshit, it would be her. “Actually, I’d like to see them both.”

Her smile isn’t warm at all, her eyes glacial as she holds her fortifying position to keep her bosses safe from bother. “I’m sorry… they can’t be disturbed.”

I don’t have time for this shit. I operate on a short fuse to begin with, so it’s no surprise when I turn into a full-on asshole. “If you want to keep your job, I suggest you call them right now and let them know that their star player is here requesting five fucking minutes of their time.”

Her eyes widen, mouth forms into an O , and I can tell she’s on the verge of being truly offended.

So I add, “Please.”

For some reason, that seems to mollify her, or maybe she thinks I truly have the power to get her fired, which I don’t nor would I. The woman gives me a once-over, probably noting that I never come up here unless absolutely necessary. “Hold on.”

She buzzes the intercom and Brienne answers. “Yes, Marta?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you.” She shoots me a scathing glance. “But Mr. Navarro is here to see you and Mr. Derringer. He says it’s urgent, but I tried to tell him you’re busy.”

There’s a moment of silence, then Brienne says, “Send him back. And thank you, Marta.”

Marta nods toward the door. “You can go back.”

“Yup. Got that part.” Still the asshole.

Marta buzzes the lock and I push through the door into a maze of hallways. I’ve been up here a few times since coming to the team and know where to go. Brienne’s office sits in the corner, offering sweeping views of the Pittsburgh skyline across the Allegheny River.

Brienne’s expression sharpens the second she sees me in the doorway and she waves me in. “Penn. Take a seat.”

Callum twists in his chair, studying me as I approach. “Something going on?” he asks when I drop down into the chair next to him.

I let out a slow breath and get right to it. “I thought you both should know about something that’s come up in my life that could have adverse effects going forward.”

“For the team?” Callum asks.

I lift a shoulder. “For me, and by association, possibly the team.”

Brienne folds her arms. “Go on.”

My gaze shifts across the desk to her. “Did you hear about the teddy bear I received in the locker room?”

She shoots a puzzled look to Callum, and then back to me. “I did not. Should I have been told about it?”

I turn to Callum. “Did you know?”

He shakes his head, confusion creasing his forehead.

I find this very interesting as well as surprising.

My teammates saw it. They pulled it out of the garbage after I threw it away and saw the threatening note.

They’ve been piecing things together and I’m truly shocked that word hasn’t filtered up.

There’s a part of me that respects it, and a part of me that’s repulsed by it.

That’s the team, rallying around me and keeping secrets from everyone else.

It’s fucking confusing as to which way is the right way, but I push it aside and explain the incident to Brienne and Callum.

“What does that note mean?” she asks when I’m finished. “ I remember. Do you? ”

“Let me start at the beginning,” I say with a huff of frustration. The benefit to being a minor when all this occurred was that my name wasn’t released in an attempt to keep me safe. “When I played for the Wraiths in the USYHL, there was a hazing incident.”

“I remember that,” Callum says, but Brienne’s expression is blank.

“Long story short, older members hazed a younger guy. He suffered severe alcohol poisoning and asphyxiated on his own vomit.”

Brienne gasps at the revelation.

“His body was found and no one knew what happened. Except I did. I knew the guys responsible and I went to the police about it.”

Something flashes across Brienne’s face—a mixture of respect and empathy. “You did the right thing.”

“There’s many who would say I didn’t. That I should have kept my mouth shut. That I should’ve had loyalty to those guys because it was all just a terrible accident and they didn’t intend to kill him.”

I let those words hang in the air so they understand that not everyone considers me a noble guy. “My word alone wasn’t enough, however, there was another witness. Her name is Mila Brennan, and she is the sister of the main guy responsible, Peter. Their father was the coach.”

I explain how the guys bragged about it in front of me and that Mila overheard the entire conversation. She had listened to us all laugh, horrified, made worse because of her feelings for Nathan.

It still fucking shames me that I laughed, but I force it down deep.

“Our names were kept private, but gossip started and it was soon figured out that I was the whistleblower since I was the only one in the room that night who wasn’t a part of it.

It was a little harder to pin it on Mila, though.

In the end, her family knew it was her—her parents were involved since she was a minor. Ultimately, the team turned on me.”

“What?” Brienne gasps, sitting forward in her chair and pinning me with steely eyes.

“It’s irrelevant and I only tell you that to explain the present situation. Like I said… many people are pissed at me and Mila. In addition to that teddy bear, one of the guys who was involved threw a water bottle at me after a game. I saw him in the stands and he called me a traitor.”

“I remember that,” Callum murmurs pensively.

“The fight I got in with McLendon… he wasn’t involved in the hazing, but he was one of the people who hated me for turning them in.”

“And who sent the teddy bear?” Brienne asks.

I rub at the back of my neck as I grimace. “I’m not sure. Two guys went to prison and two guys were kicked off the team, their careers ruined. Jace is out of prison and Peter gets out on Friday.”

Brienne looks alarmed but maintains her composure. “We’ll involve the police.”

“Don’t bother,” I say, suddenly feeling very fatigued. “Mila’s been getting threats too and they’ve said they can’t help her at this point.”

Callum stands up and paces. “Would her brother actually hurt her? Will he come after you?”

“I don’t know,” I reply truthfully. “I don’t even know if it’s him.”

Silence falls over the room and for several moments, no one says anything. I expect their brains are on overdrive trying to solve an issue that can’t be fixed.

Brienne is the first to speak. “How can we help you and Mila?”

Her inclusion of Mila doesn’t really surprise me. While I don’t know Brienne well, I’ve overheard enough through the grapevine that she is an owner who takes care of her players in all ways—and that extends to loved ones.

Not that Mila is a loved one, but she’s… well, I don’t know what she is.

I shake my head. “There’s nothing you can do. I just thought you should know—in case something does happen, I didn’t want you to be surprised.”

Callum exhales sharply, rubbing his temple. “Jesus, Penn.”