Page 13 of Slap Shot (Charm City Chill #3)

O liver

Oliver tugged at his bow tie for the third time, wishing he could trade the monkey suit for his practice gear.

The Baltimore Convention Center buzzed with formal chaos, donors in expensive gowns nursing champagne, photographers snapping staged shots of players with local kids, and enough fake laughter to power the city grid.

Charlie butted his head against his leg, reading his stress levels like a barometer.

The golden retriever's calm presence helped, but nothing could make these events feel natural.

Give Oliver a computer problem to solve or a power play to run, but social theater?

He'd rather face a line of enforcers looking for blood.

"Chenny!" Marcus's voice cut through the crowd noise. "You look like someone's holding you hostage."

Oliver turned to see Marcus approaching with Stephanie, both of them looking way too comfortable in their formal wear. Behind them came Kane and Allison, followed by Jax and Lauren weaving through the crowd.

"I feel like I'm wearing a costume," Oliver admitted, adjusting his cufflinks. "How do you guys make this look easy?"

"Practice," Stephanie said with a grin. "Also, Marcus spent twenty minutes on YouTube learning how to tie his bow tie properly."

"Hey, that's practical knowledge," Marcus protested. "Better than Oliver's lopsided attempt."

"It's not lopsided," Oliver said, automatically reaching for his tie.

"It's a little lopsided," Kane said helpfully. "Allison, didn't you offer to teach him proper bow tie technique?"

Allison laughed. "I did, but apparently YouTube University was good enough."

"YouTube taught me everything useful I know," Oliver shot back. "Including how to fold fitted sheets and change a tire."

"That's bullshit," Jax interrupted. "Nobody actually knows how to fold fitted sheets. It's impossible."

"I can fold fitted sheets," Lauren said mildly.

Jax stared at her like she'd just claimed she could fly. "Witchcraft."

"It's called having motor skills more advanced than a toddler," she replied sweetly. "Though I suppose when your laundry system is 'clean pile, dirty pile,' any organization seems magical."

"That system works perfectly," Jax said, puffing up with mock indignation. "Clean clothes go in one basket, dirty clothes go in another basket. Simple. Effective."

"Until Lauren moved in and introduced you to the concept of a dresser," Marcus pointed out.

"And matching socks," Allison added.

"Hey, she hasn't complained about my organizational skills," Jax protested.

"Because I reorganized everything while you were on that road trip," Lauren said. "You just haven't noticed yet."

Oliver found himself grinning despite his discomfort with the formal setting.

This was what he'd never expected when he'd signed with the Chill, teammates who felt like family, who included him in their banter and looked out for each other.

It made the cyber attacks feel personal, like someone was targeting his family.

"Ready for tomorrow's charity scrimmage?" Marcus asked. "The kids are pumped to watch us get schooled by a bunch of mascots."

"Please tell me we're not letting the mascot team ref," Kane said. "Last time one of them called a penalty on an eight-year-old for 'excessive celebration.'"

"In fairness," Allison pointed out, "that kid did skate a full victory lap after scoring."

"With a bunch of silly moves," Stephanie added. "The whole crowd was cracking up."

"The kid had serious moves," Oliver admitted. "Better than half our goal celebrations."

"Speaking of moves," Jax grinned wickedly, "Lauren's been working on her skating. Show them that spin you learned, babe."

"Absolutely not," Lauren said firmly. "I'm not demonstrating my wobbly attempt at figure skating in heels and a cocktail dress."

"Come on," Kane encouraged. "We've all made asses of ourselves on ice."

"Some more spectacularly than others," Marcus said, shooting Oliver a pointed look. "Remember rookie year when you tried to impress that sports reporter with your backwards crossovers?"

"And ate shit directly into the boards," Oliver finished with a wince. "Thanks for the reminder."

"Hey, it worked," Stephanie said. "She definitely remembered you after that."

"For all the wrong reasons."

The easy ribbing felt good, normal in a way most of Oliver's life wasn't. These people had his back, would go to war for him without question, and someone was trying to use that loyalty against him. The thought made his jaw clench.

His phone buzzed against his chest. A text from Heather: Backstage. Emergency. Need you now.

The urgent tone made his pulse spike. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," he told his teammates, already scanning the room for the most discreet exit route.

"Don't disappear for the whole night," Kane called after him. "Donors want to see our star winger, not just hear about him."

Oliver waved acknowledgment but was already plotting his path through the crowd, avoiding the main thoroughfares where people might notice his departure.

He found Heather in a converted conference room that looked like a computer store had exploded, multiple laptops open, cables snaking everywhere, the blue glow of screens casting harsh shadows on her face. She was typing rapidly, completely absorbed in whatever she was hunting.

"What's the situation?" he asked, closing the door behind him and immediately moving away from it. If anyone came looking, he needed to be able to get Charlie into the adjoining storage closet.

"Someone's been using tonight as cover for a massive breach." She didn't turn around, but he could hear the anger in her voice. "They've been inside our systems all evening, but this time they got cocky. Left evidence."

Oliver moved to stand behind her, close enough to see the code scrolling across her screen. Charlie settled at his feet with a soft huff, reading the tension in the room.

"How bad?"

"They accessed Coach Vicky's personnel files, contract negotiations, private emails with Jack about player evaluations." Her knuckles were white on the mouse. "But that's not the worst part."

She pulled up another window, and Oliver's stomach dropped. The code structure was familiar in the worst possible way, not his techniques exactly, but someone who'd studied his methods, learned his patterns, then twisted them into something more vicious.

"This is personal," he said, recognizing the signature style. "Someone who knows how I work."

"And they left us a message." She highlighted a section of metadata buried deep in the attack code. Oliver read the embedded text and felt sick: How's your coach's job security holding up?

The taunt was bad enough, but the way it was embedded made Oliver's hands shake slightly. The message was nested in a recursive loop that served no functional purpose except to hide the text, something he'd developed years ago and shared with exactly one person.

Kai.

Oliver's mind went immediately to their last conversation, the friendship that had defined three years of his life before it all went to hell.

The split that had torn apart everything they'd built together.

The final fight when Kai had screamed that Oliver was a coward, that he'd pay for abandoning their partnership, that everything Oliver cared about would burn.

But Kai was in federal prison. Had to be. Oliver had obsessively followed the case, two years for cyber terrorism, no early release possible. There was no way Kai could be behind this.

Unless...

"They're escalating," Heather said, turning to face him. Oliver saw worry in her green eyes, and something else that made his stomach hurt. Doubt. "Oliver, I need to ask you something, and I need complete honesty."

"Okay."

"Is there anyone from your past who might want to hurt you by going after people you care about? Someone with the skills to pull this off?"

Shame rose in his throat. He should tell her about Kai. Should explain about the partnership, the betrayal, the threats. But admitting that his former best friend had once promised to destroy everything Oliver cared about would only confirm her worst suspicions about getting involved with him.

And besides, Kai was locked up. Had to be.

"Maybe," he said finally. "I had... colleagues. People I worked with who might hold grudges."

The lie tasted bitter. Not a complete lie. There had been others, but he couldn't make himself say Kai's name. Not when she was already looking at him like he might be the danger instead of the solution.

"Anyone specific?"

Oliver watched her expression, saw the way she pulled back slightly, creating distance between them just when he needed her trust most.

"It's possible," he admitted.

Sharp voices in the hallway made them both freeze. Oliver recognized Jack's voice getting closer, along with someone else.

"Closet," Oliver whispered, already moving toward the storage room door. "Now."

He grabbed Charlie's harness and guided the dog into the small space, pulling the door nearly closed just as footsteps stopped outside the conference room.

Through the crack in the door, Oliver could hear the conversation.

"Everything running smoothly back here?" Jack was asking.

"So far so good," came another voice. It was Jack’s assistant Travis. "Heather's got the tech side locked down."

A knock on the door. "Heather? How are things looking?"

"Hey, Jack. Just monitoring the network traffic. Lot of devices connected tonight."

"Any issues?"

"Nothing major. Just keeping an eye on things."

"Good. I know you've been concerned about security after the medical file incident." There was a pause. "By the way, I've been getting questions from some donors about Oliver. They were hoping to meet him, but I haven't seen him around much tonight."

Oliver held his breath. Charlie was a soothing presence in the cramped space.

"Haven't seen him," Heather said smoothly. "These big events can be tough for him sometimes."

"Right, of course. Charlie's with him, I assume?"

"I imagine so."

"Well, no pressure. The donors will understand. Thanks for keeping everything secure back here."

"Just doing my job."

Footsteps retreated down the hall. Oliver waited another thirty seconds before emerging from the closet, Charlie padding out beside him.

"That was close," he said.

"Close enough." Heather was staring at her screens, and Oliver could see the frustration in her shoulders. "Whoever's doing this, they're not going to stop. They have Vicky's files now. They could leak them anytime, destroy her career the same way they went after Jax."

Oliver studied the attack patterns on her screen, his mind already working through possibilities. "We need to get ahead of this. Set up a honeypot, something that looks valuable but feeds us information about who's accessing it."

"You think that'll work?"

"It's our best shot at identifying them. But we'll need to make it irresistible. Something they can't resist going after." Oliver pulled up a chair beside her. "I'm thinking player salary information, or maybe trade discussions. Something juicy enough to draw them out."

"And then what?"

"Then we trace them back to their source and shut them down permanently." Oliver's voice hardened. "Before they can hurt anyone else."

Heather nodded, already pulling up the tools they'd need. "How long do you think we have?"

"Not long. If they're smart, they'll release Vicky's information soon to maximize damage. We need to move fast."

Looking at the screens full of malicious code, Oliver felt the familiar rush of the hunt.

This was what Heather had called him in for—not just his insights, but his skills.

The abilities he'd sworn never to use again.

But some things were worth breaking promises for.

And protecting the people he cared about was definitely one of them.

"You should get back out there," she said, not looking up. "I need to keep monitoring this."

The doubt from earlier hung between them like a wall.

"Heather—"

"Go." She was already typing again. "Before someone else comes looking for you."

Oliver stood there for a moment, watching her work, feeling the space between them growing wider.

He should tell her about Kai. Should explain about the partnership, the betrayal, the threats.

But Kai was locked up—had to be. And admitting that his former best friend had once promised to destroy everything Oliver cared about would only make her doubt him more.