Page 109 of Playing Dirty

“It did go pretty badly,” I murmur, stirring my eggs in the pan. “But I’ve been taking some extra batting practice at this place off campus, and Madden happened to show up one day with the same idea. Then he was already there the next time I went, probably trying to avoid me, which obviously didn’t work. And it happened enough times where I decided…fuck it, you know? What harm is it to try?” My teeth sink into the side of my cheek, every bit of the lie tasting bitter on my tongue, before adding, “I just didn’t want to say anything until I had something concrete.”

“And do you?” he immediately inquires.

I glance up at him, and it’s evident from his features drawn down in a skeptical frown, he isn’t sold on the tale. It has a vise clamping on either side of my windpipe. But I knew if I went this route—if I chose to not come clean about seeing Madden—I’d have to give him something to make it believable. The only issue is, in order to remain loyalto my team, it feels like I’m betraying Madden.

Or at the very least, the promise I made him.

“Not quite. But I do know our coms are compromised.” Phoenix’s brows draw down at the statement, and I quickly continue spilling every bit of information I have before I lose the nerve. “The Blackmore guys have been listening in on our raids. Every time we call through the walkies, we’re talking on an open frequency. Anyone can hear what we’re saying to each other if they’re on the right channel, including where we’re searching.”

Phoenix’s expression shifts into a mixture of dumbstruck awe and horror as he stares at me, grappling for words. “And he just…told you they’ve been listening?”

Sure did, my friend.

I shake my head. “I went through his bag when he went to the bathroom. A walkie was in there, and it was set to the same channel we’ve been using.”

Not exactly a lie, though it does nothing to assuage the nausea racking my nervous system.

My roommate lets out a long, slow breath before laughter starts bubbling out of him. “Ah, damn. Not to give him a compliment, but that’s genius.”

He can say that again, and he doesn’t even know half of it. Madden is so much smarter than any of us gave him credit for, even if it did irritate me to no end by finding the damn walkie in the first place.

When I glance over from the stove, I find Phoenix tapping his fingers on the counter, face contorted in thought. “How the hell did they know we were even using them?”

“Best guess? Someone saw Wyatt buying them and ratted us out?” I offer with a shrug. “Or maybe they had the exact same idea. But either way, the results are the same.”

“Wyatt’s gonna be so pissed when we tell him.”

“Yeah, well, I tried telling him it was overkill.”

I dump my breakfast onto a plate, despite my appetite having disappeared the moment this conversation started. But acting normal is the only way I’ll manage to sell this, so I grab a seat and start eating.

Phoenix stares off into space past me, oblivious to my inner turmoil, and he starts nodding like he’s beginning to work out a difficult math equation or something.

“This is actually kinda good, though,” he finally says, gaze snapping back to me. “Think about it. If they’re actively listening while we’re on a raid, they know where we are and when. Which means we can deduce anywhere our guys have been caught by someone on their team is somewhere near the pennant.”

Honestly, I hadn’t even thought of that, but it makes a lot of sense. It’s a great defensive strategy, and knowing Madden, it was part of his intention all along.

“Yeah, maybe” is all I offer between bites of food that taste like ash in my mouth.

“You’ll have to tell Wyatt today. He’s wanting to do another raid before our series against Blackmore next week.”

I nod, though the idea of recounting this lie again doesn’t sit well with me. Not when I was so torn about even telling it in the first place. Reducing what’s happening between us and twisting those moments of peace at the cages… I don’t like the way it cheapens it. Not to mention the guilt gnawing at me for breaking my promise.

But that’s the price I have to pay for fabricating an explanation rather than telling Phoenix the truth.

“Wait, but then why was he here this morning?” Phoenix asks, cuttingthrough my thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Madden. Why was he here?”

Oh, shit.

“I left my batting gloves at the cages. He knew I’d need ‘em, so he was just dropping them off.” I shrug through the fresh wave of panic and keep my eyes on my plate while surmising, “Hayes must’ve seen him as he left.”

Coming up with the lies is only getting easier and easier. It makes me sick to my stomach every time one leaves my lips, but I’m in too deep to turn back now.

Phoenix leans back against the upper cabinets and sighs. “Damn. Well, guess I’m not getting that hundred bucks from Holden after all.”