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Chapter One

Chelsea

A long, hard silence followed my words.

"I could have sworn you just said Bruce Fergus is dead," Frost said. His usually tanned face was pale, green eyes troubled as he tried to absorb the words.

"That's what the article says." I couldn't bring myself to speak above a whisper. If I did, it might make this real.

I glanced back at my phone, but the words were still there on the screen. Sadie had sent me the link. She'd worked late the night before and didn't seem to be home yet. That wasn't unusual. Sometimes, she didn't get in until nine or ten o'clock. According to the timestamp, she sent me the message at five am.

"Let me look." Frost held out his hand for my phone. He scanned the screen, lips slightly apart. "Fuck."

"Any time." Storm stepped out of my bedroom, looking sleepy and rubbing his face. He stopped in the doorway, taking us both in. "What is it? You look like the zombie apocalypse finally happened."

"There's no such thing as zombies." Dallas pushed past him and stepped into the kitchen. He wore only track pants and a sleepy face, like Storm.

He never got much sleep when he stayed at my place. Neither did I, to be honest, but I loved having them here. Especially last night. They helped me forget how Atlas walked away after our date.

Now, the memory flashed back into my mind, fresh as the moment it happened. Expression dark, he suggested he'd stop me from working with the Dusk Bay Smashers rugby team so he wouldn't have to see me anymore.

I thought I had thick skin, but it stung. It would for a while.

"What the hell is going on?" Storm demanded.

Frost handed the phone to him and leaned back against the countertop, his hands to either side of him.

"What the fuck?" Storm gaped at the screen. "This can't be right. Heart-attack?"

"People die of natural causes in Dusk Bay," I said absently. Once in a while.

All three of them stared at me for a couple of moments, like maybe I was out of my mind.

"They do ," I argued. "That's all this is. As far as I know, he didn't have any enemies."

"But he might have," Dallas said. He glanced sideways at Frost.

Frost raised his hands. "Don't look at me. I didn't go anywhere near him. Anyway, I've been here all night."

" Most of the night," Dallas said.

"You've also been here for 'most of the night,'" Frost argued.

"Frost was with me before we got the call from Chelsea and headed over," Storm said. "And who says zombies aren't real?" He was clearly rattled by the news and trying to cover it with a hint of humour.

"I do, dumbass." Dallas tugged the fridge open and pulled out the bottle of milk. He poured himself a glass and drank it in a couple of gulps. "For the record, I haven't seen Bruce in a couple of days. I had nothing to do with it."

"Me either," I said. "The last time I spoke to him, it was amicable. What does this mean for the team?"

Frost stepped around behind me and lightly massaged my shoulders. "We'll get a new GM. Things will keep on keeping on."

"What does it mean for Chelsea working for the team?" Storm gave voice to the question I hadn't dared to ask.

"We should get to the stadium," Dallas said. "Coach will?—"

Simultaneously, their phones beeped with incoming text messages.

"Call us in," Dallas finished. He pulled out his phone and checked the screen. "Bingo. Team meeting at ten."

"You guys should go," I said.

"Come with us," Frost said. "As far as I'm concerned, you're part of the team."

"I'm not really," I argued. "He didn't give me the job."

"Maybe he intended to but didn't get a chance," Frost suggested. It was an innocent suggestion, but my mind took it in a completely different direction.

My blood went cold. "I suppose that's possible."

Was this Atlas' doing? Somehow he knew Bruce was going to hire me, and got to him before he could? I wished I could rule that out, but the more I thought about it, the greater the chance I could rule it in.

"Atlas fucking Underwood," Storm growled. "If he killed Bruce to soothe his ego, I'm going to rip his arms off and beat him over the head with them."

Frost snorted a laugh. "I'm sorry, but I'd like to see that." He quickly added, "Only if Atlas was actually involved."

"I might do it anyway," Storm said. "He deserves it after treating Chelsea like shit."

"Don't go ripping arms off until you know what actually happened." I rubbed my temples with my thumb and the tips of my fingers. "Like I said, it might have been natural causes." Right now, that seemed as likely as the guys sprouting an extra cock each.

"I've waited this long," Storm said. "I can wait a bit longer." His jaw worked. At the same time, he curled his fingers into a fist and wrapped the other hand around it, like he was warming it up.

"I vote we get a place together after this," Frost said. He didn't elaborate, he just stepped back into the bedroom and started sorting through the clothes that lay scattered on the floor.

I stepped out of his track pants and offered them to him before I hurried in for a quick shower. I didn't want to turn up at the stadium messy and smelling of the three guys. Not today, anyway.

For once, none of them joined me. By the time I was dry and dressed, they were sitting around the table, drinking coffee and eating toast and fruit.

"We have breakfast for you." Dallas gestured to the seat beside him.

The moment I sat, he placed a hand on my leg. Whenever I was near, he had to touch me. Some women might have found it stifling, but I thought it was sweet. And that day, it was comforting. I liked to be touched. I liked knowing he cared about me so much.

"I'm not hungry," I admitted. In spite of that, I picked up a piece of toast and bit into the corner before washing it down with still-hot coffee. "I should be asking how you guys are doing. Bruce was a good GM. The team is going to feel his absence."

"Yeah," Storm agreed. "He was a good guy. One of the better ones. His wife and kids are going to be gutted."

" I'm gutted," Frost said. He pressed his lips together long enough for them to turn white. "Like Stormy said, he was a good guy. Whoever replaces him is going to have big boots to fill."

"Really big," Dallas agreed. "And they better hire Chelsea, or they might end up the same way." He nodded.

So far, he hadn't given me any indication he was into killing people, like Frost and my brother were. Maybe he was considering making an exception for anyone who got between me and my dream job. Or rather, got in the way of his ability to sneak off to the infirmary and fuck me once or twice a day.

Priorities.

"I was going to say that," Frost said.

"Can we not kill the new GM?" I said, finishing on a heavy sigh. "You don't even know who it'll be. They probably haven't had time to start considering a replacement."

The team would have to deal with today before they could think about tomorrow.

"I make no promises," Frost said. "But I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. For now."

"You're starting to sound like my brother," I said with a sigh.

"Thank you." Frost grinned. "We could be a double act. Ice and Frost."

"Don't forget Storm," Storm said.

"The bad weather triplets," Dallas said dryly. "I'm starting to think I should change my name to Tornado. Might be a better nickname than Tex."

"Or Snow," Frost suggested. He snapped his fingers. "I know, Chelsea could be Snow. We could be Snow White and the Seven Smashers." He wiggled his eyebrows at the idea.

I shook my head in response. "I always preferred Rose Red."

What in the world would I do with seven guys? I had my hands full enough as it was. Not to mention all of my holes, a lot of the time.

"Like blood?" Frost asked.

"Like red roses," I replied firmly. "Red is my favourite colour."

It was also my brother's favourite colour, to the surprise of absolutely no one. He did choose it because it was the colour of blood. He also quite liked lavender, for no reason other than he liked the look of it.

"My favourite colour is the exact shade of your pussy," Dallas supplied.

"Mine too," Storm said.

"Mine is a tie between Chelsea's pussy and the colour of Storm's cock when he's hard," Frost said.

"I‘ve always said you had good taste," Storm said, as he cupped his groin through his track pants. He smiled, but his stormy grey eyes remained troubled. His thoughts were on much more difficult topics than our favourite colours.

All of our minds should be.

This? It was our way of dealing with the situation. Joking around and talking about trivial things, rather than morbid ones.

"And I taste good," Frost said. He gulped down the last of his coffee and stood. "I don't know about you all, but I'm ready to get down there and face the music."

"Are you sure you're not guilty?" Dallas asked. "Because that's something a guilty person would say."

"I'm guilty of a lot of things," Frost agreed, "but having anything to do with Bruce dying isn't one of them."

He sighed out his nose after the last couple of words, his expression grim again. "I meant we'll have to face the fact it's true. You know what they say about not believing everything you read on the Internet."

"I don't think something like that would be up there if it wasn't true," Storm said reluctantly. "Let's head on in and find out for sure."

"And don't go pointing any fingers at Atlas until we have some idea whether or not he had anything to do with it," I said, giving them all a long look. "The police might be looking into the cause of death. We don't want to complicate things."

We shouldn't blame an innocent man for a murder when no murder took place. If one had, I'd make sure the right people knew what happened. The right people being my brother. He'd either deal with Atlas directly, or he'd make sure the police found out what he did.

I pushed the thought to the side for now. I was getting way ahead of myself.

"I love that about you," Frost said. "He hurt you last night, but you're still not ready to hate on him." He leaned over and lightly kissed my mouth.

"It might mean I’m too na?ve," I suggested.

And it might mean I spent a lifetime covering for criminals. A habit I wasn't going to break anytime soon, even if I wanted to. Those same people would have me killed if I got underfoot. My brother would try to stop them, but they'd persist until they got to me. He couldn't watch me twenty-four hours a day.

No, better to keep my mouth shut. It got me this far. I saw no reason to change now.

"It means you're a nicer person than Storm," Dallas said. "And me, before he starts throwing stones."

"Most people are nicer than us," Storm said with a shrug. He finished a piece of apple and got to his feet. "My SUV. I'll drive."

None of us was in the mood to argue with him. It wasn't worth it at the best of times. Today was definitely not the best of times.

I couldn't shake the heavy feeling beginning to settle on me. Or the fear of facing Atlas. If he'd kill Bruce to keep me from working for the Smashers, then what else was he capable of? He might decide to go after Storm, Frost, or Dallas. Or he might decide I was an easier target.

If he killed me, my brother would go to war with him. Things would get very, very ugly very, very fast.

"Things will be okay." Frost laced his fingers in mine. "We'll get to the bottom of what happened. The team will get a new GM and you'll get the job. Everything can go back to normal."

I wasn't sure if that was possible. If Bruce didn't die of natural causes, then there was a nefarious reason for his death. If we didn't find it quickly, we would spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders, waiting for us to be next.