Page 20
CHAPTER 20
Rafferty
T he mood is jubilant as we walk through the Washington Airport, the second stop on our two-leg away game trip. We clinched an easy win over the Atlanta Sting last night. Today is dedicated to travel and we’ll have a light skate practice tonight. Tomorrow night we play the Breakers then we return late to Pittsburgh, and all I can think about is getting back to Tempe.
It should concern me that she’s constantly on my mind, but then I decide to cut myself a break. If this is what it feels like to be falling for a woman, then I can’t see a damn thing wrong with it. As long as my head is in the game and I’m performing at peak, then all my other time can be spent thinking about Tempe.
Penn walks ahead of me and North, his head down so as not to make eye contact with the handful of fans who line the barriers. It happens in every airport we walk through… Titans fans are spread far and wide and we always get a warm welcome. Shouts, cheers, signs… it’s cool as fuck, and North and I stop periodically, along with the rest of the guys, to take pictures.
Not Penn though. He’s more withdrawn than ever. He wouldn’t talk to King about the incident at Stevie’s bar and as shocking as that was, I know it truly happened because his nose is swollen and he has two black eyes. Our trainer asked Penn about it yesterday in the Sting’s visitor locker room and Penn grumbled, “Walked into a door.”
None of us corrected him because we’re loyal. No way would we rat him out for getting into a bar fight, which could have serious repercussions.
“Rafferty! Over here!” A young boy waves a jersey at me, and I lean down to sign it, offering him a smile. I thrive on this energy, the support. It’s one of the biggest perks of this job.
As we push toward the exit, the noise shifts subtly. The fans’ enthusiastic calls are drowned out by harsher, more aggressive shouts as we step outside into the blustery air. I catch snippets of words that don’t make sense.
“ Doping …,” “ Needles …,” “ Buying drugs …”
Questions swirl around me, thrown by reporters who’ve knotted into a tight crowd between the team and the bus that will take us to our hotel. Confusion clouds my head, and I glance at North who seems as discombobulated as I am.
Then the words start to register.
“What about the allegations, Rafferty? Are you using performance-enhancing drugs?” one reporter yells, her question slicing through the murmurs like a knife.
My heart stops as I lock eyes with her. “What? No!” The denial springs from my lips, but it’s weak, shocked by the accusation.
I look around wildly, the throng of journalists hurling questions, sticking recorders near my face and cameras clicking.
“What the fuck?” North murmurs, moving in closer to me.
“Rafferty,” a male reporter says, stepping forward and thrusting a photograph in my face. “What do you say about the photos showing you buying PEDs?”
Someone else calls out. “And what about the lab reports showing positive results of drugs in your system?”
I can’t even respond. I try to focus in on the grainy photo but my head spins. I vaguely feel North’s hand on my shoulder. My mind races, trying to piece together this nightmare.
Suddenly, Callum Derringer, our general manager, pushes through my teammates gathered at my back and places himself in front of me, his mouth set in a grim line. “We have no idea what you’re talking about, but these accusations are false,” Callum declares, his confidence a solid shield thrown up in my defense. “The Titans stand firmly behind Rafferty. We’ll have a more detailed statement soon.”
I’m herded toward the bus the questions still coming, each one slamming into me like a weighted mallet. When I get on the bus, those sounds are drowned out by the team’s murmurs—a mix of confusion and concern—which somehow feels even more damning.
My legs feel like they’re about to give way so I slump into the first row of seats on the opposite side from where the reporters are gathered. My teammates file by me, mostly silent but every once in a while, someone gives me a supportive pat on my shoulder.
When we’re loaded, Callum is the last to appear and he stands next to my seat, looking down at me with worry. “I just defended you out there. Am I wrong?” His tone is severe, a direct challenge to my integrity.
“You’re not wrong,” I respond firmly. “I don’t dope.”
Callum’s frustration is palpable as he rubs his temples. “The reporters mentioned lab reports and they have photos of you buying drugs. It looks bad, Rafferty.”
“It’s fake, all of it,” I insist, anger rising hot and fast within me as my mind clears, an inherent response to defend myself. “I’ve never used performance-enhancing drugs. I’ll go get tested right now.”
He nods slowly, his expression genuine. “I believe you. But we’re going to have to suspend you until this is investigated.”
“That’s bullshit,” I say, standing from my seat. The urge to hit Callum is overwhelming although deep down, I understand he’s only doing his job.
“It’s policy,” he replies firmly, a hard edge to his tone. “But we’ll jump on this fast. I’ll get our attorneys on it and I’ll arrange to have you taken to a medical facility as soon as we get to the hotel so you can get tested right away.”
“Fucking bullshit.” The protest dies in my throat, understanding the position he’s in. Yet, betrayal stings like a thousand bees.
Callum squeezes my shoulder. “It will be fine.”
And then he turns away, phone to his ear as he moves farther back into the bus, his voice a low rumble as he speaks with God knows who.
North and Atlas slide into the seats across from me, their expressions grim. “It’s got to be Tansy,” Atlas murmurs, voicing the suspicion that claws at my gut.
It was my first thought because there’s not a single person in this world who I could think would want to frame me. “I know. But there are photos… medical documentation.”
“It’s clearly been faked,” North says with conviction. “Tansy’s in marketing, for fuck’s sake. She can manipulate anything she wants. The truth will come out.”
“Yeah, but not before my reputation is ruined,” I snarl, my fists clenching and unclenching. Never in my life has anything so blatantly unfair happened to me.
The bus rolls toward the hotel, the various monuments and other notable tourist attractions blurring past as my mind races.
Accused.
Suspended.
My career, my reputation—everything I’ve worked for—threatened by a bitter, maybe batshit-crazy woman.
Once we arrive, I stay on the bus until the rest of the team disembarks. This time, they all stop to say words of reassurance and support. It’s meaningless to me at this point, the trauma of the false allegations still too fresh.
Callum waves me off the bus and thankfully, there are no reporters here.
Yet.
“I just texted you the address of a clinic that’s waiting for you to draw blood for testing. Take an Uber and come straight back here. Do not talk to anyone at the clinic about this.”
“Did you talk to our attorneys?” I ask, needing some good news.
Callum nods. “They’re reaching out to get copies of the photographs and lab results, but you can bet the reporters won’t give up their sources.” Yeah, no need for that. I know damn well who that shit came from. “But it could take a while to have experts analyze it.”
“So I’m suspended until then?” I ask bluntly.
“I don’t know, Rafferty.” Callum scrubs his hands through his hair. “I still have to talk to Brienne about it, and we have to get our PR team on this so it’s spun the right way.”
“What is there to spin?” I snap at him. “It’s all a fucking lie. That’s what we say. Put me in front of a goddamn camera right now and let me defend myself.”
Callum listens to me patiently but shakes his head. “Not right now. We’re going to handle this exactly how our lawyers and PR people tell us how to handle it. Until then, you’re going to have to be patient.”
“And what about my reputation?” I ask, throwing my arms out. “This is going to be in all the papers and across all the TV news stations in the next few hours. If I don’t say something, I’ll look guilty.”
“The team is making a formal, strongly worded statement on your behalf. I promise we will reiterate our full trust in you. Again, I’m asking you to have a bit of patience.”
I swallow a retort, knowing I’ve probably reached the limit of disrespect I can show to Callum. “And what do I do after the blood test?”
“Stay in your room,” he says.
“I can’t even go to the game?” I ask incredulously.
“It’s best if you don’t. Hopefully by the time we get back to Pittsburgh tonight, we’ll have a better plan.”
I can’t do anything but accept his decision. I order an Uber and Callum waits with me until it arrives, although he spends the time texting on his phone. He gives my shoulder another squeeze just before I get in the car and then I’m left alone with my ugly thoughts.
?
The drug test was a piece of cake, but I was told the results could take up to a week to process. My mood is black and dismal by the time I arrive at the hotel.
No one’s in sight, most likely resting or having some lunch. I briefly consider texting North and Atlas to see what they’re doing, but remember that Callum told me to stay out of sight.
In my room, I stretch out on the bed and dial Tempe, having no clue if she’s at work. I can’t remember what she told me, and that’s only because my thoughts are so jumbled right now, I can barely remember my name.
“Hey, babe,” she answers, her words a balm I didn’t know I needed. Immediately, some of the anger and hopelessness dissipates, because I know that no matter what happens, I have the girl.
I try to tell her what’s going on, but the words are stuck in my throat. My silence apparently concerns her, because she intuitively asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Something bad happened.”
Before I can even explain, she says, “I’ll fly there. Tell me where to go.”
My heart responds to her gesture with a delicious squeeze of affection. “No, I’ll be flying back tonight, but if you’ve got a few minutes…”
“I have more than a few minutes.”
So, I explain everything, the words tumbling out. I include my suspicion that Tansy has orchestrated this whole thing, but I know Tempe will make that leap on her own. Her gasp of shock hurts more than anything, because I can hear how personally she’s taking this on my behalf, and I don’t like to burden her.
“That’s awful, Raff! I really should come to you—”
“No, stay put. I’ll be back late tonight,” I cut in. The last thing I need is for her to be caught in this shitstorm. “Hopefully I’ll have more information by then.”
“I wish there was something I could do for you,” she murmurs woefully.
“You already have, just by wanting to be at my side. That means the world, Tempe.”
“Of course,” she says gently.
“Just… be careful, okay?”
She’s silent a moment. “What do you mean?”
It’s been an ugly thought brewing since I headed off for the blood test. If Tansy’s behind this, I don’t know what she’s capable of. She could go after Tempe.
“Tansy’s obviously a little unbalanced. I mean… to fake something like this takes a level of cunning that honestly scares me. I don’t know if you’ll be a target. Are you working today?”
“Yeah, actually. I’m set to start in a few hours.”
“Is there any way you can call in sick? Stay at home?”
More silence before she says, “I can’t, Rafferty.”
“If it’s about money—”
“It’s not,” she assures me. “I promised to work and I can’t leave them short-handed. Nothing will happen though. I’m in a public place. Tansy wouldn’t dare come after me like that. She doesn’t want to get in trouble.”
I’m not so sure. As ridiculous and petty as this whole thing seems to be, the truth is… Tansy has to know deep down I’ll be able to disprove these allegations. She’s taking a risk that she’ll get caught, although I don’t know how carefully she’s covered her tracks. The mere fact she’s willing to take such a huge gamble is scary.
“Just…”
“I’m not afraid of Tansy,” she says confidently, and whether that’s an act or not, I appreciate her trying to alleviate my concern. “But I’ll be careful.”
We hang up, but the knot in my stomach doesn’t ease. Tansy’s game is dangerous, and now, more than ever, I need to find a way to prove my innocence and protect the people I care about.