Page 14

Chapter Fourteen

Chelsea

"Coach said you wanted to see me." Atlas stepped through the doorway into the infirmary. His tone was light, but his expression was one of concern.

"I thought I should check up on your nose," I said as easily as I could.

My mind raced, palms sweating. I bet anything my brother wouldn't be so anxious under the same circumstances. Hell, Sadie would be cooler than I was.

I'd have to give her a call later to get together with her. We hadn't had much time to talk about me moving out, except for her being happy for me. She already had one of the girls from Flirts moving into my old room. Hopefully they'd get along as well as Sadie and I had.

Atlas shrugged. "It's fine. Is that all there is, or did you want to see me for…something else?" He wiggled his eyebrows and stepped closer to me.

Doctor Stuart was off today and Skinner was down in the pool working with some of the injured players. We had the place to ourselves, which was why I asked him to come here now.

I took a step back and cursed myself for doing it. So much for not being suspicious. If he didn't suspect anything from that, he would a moment later when Storm, Frost and Dallas stepped out of the meeting room.

"What is this?" Atlas asked. He eyed them warily. His whole body stiffened when Dallas stepped around to stand guard in the doorway.

"Why are you here?" Storm demanded.

"Chelsea asked me to come," Atlas replied. "Why are you here?" He was looking as pissed off as a cornered lion, ready to strike back if necessary, when the moment presented itself.

"I don't mean here in the infirmary." Storm rolled his eyes as though the question was obvious. "I mean here at the Smashers."

"What do you think I'm here for, dickhead?" Atlas snarled. "Same as you, I'm here to play footy."

"Is that all?" Frost asked. Once again playing good cop to Storm's bad cop.

Atlas didn't meet his eyes. "I don't know what you're getting at."

"Bullshit," Storm snapped. He lowered his voice. "We know what you did to Bruce. Why?"

"Because he didn't want Chelsea working here," Atlas said, looking at him side on. "Are you trying to tell me you object to her being here? Because that would be a load of shit. You want her here as much as I do."

"Was that the only reason?" Frost asked. "Because of Chelsea?"

Atlas stared at him like he was out of his mind. And yet, there was still something in his expression and body language that said to me there was more to it than he claimed.

"What else might there be?" he said evasively.

Storm crossed his arms and glared at Atlas. "How about the incredible coincidence that a manager at your former club was appointed GM right after Bruce died?"

"I don't get to choose the general manager," Atlas pointed out. "They must have thought he was the best person for the job. Which he is. We won the premiership last season, remember?" As if anyone could forget. "The Sydney Devils rugby club is full of talent."

"Like Otis Skinner," I said softly.

Atlas twitched. "Yeah, like him." He seemed as fond of Skinner as he was of Storm.

"What's going on?" Jay stopped in the doorway and peered past Dallas' shoulder.

Atlas turned his head slightly towards him. "They seem to think there's more to what happened to Bruce than I've told them."

"Right." Jay all but pushed Dallas out of the way and closed the door, shutting us all in. "Are you going to tell them the truth?"

"Don't say we can't handle it," Storm said.

Atlas rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I'm sure you can. You might not want to."

"You can't tell us that and not tell us everything," Frost said. He looked antsy as hell, itching to find out what was going on.

"Fuck," Atlas said under his breath. "But not here. I don't want to risk being recorded." He lowered his hand. "Telling you could get you all killed. If there's any chance we're overheard, you don't want to suffer the repercussions. Trust me."

"As far as I can spit you," Storm muttered. "If you walk out of here right now, what guarantee do we have that you won't run? Or go off and tell your boss we're onto you?"

"We work for the same people," Atlas said, becoming visibly exasperated.

"Says you." Storm didn't look so certain.

"Says me too," Jay said. "Atlas is right. We shouldn't talk about this here. We've probably said too much already." He shot Atlas a worried glance.

"Name the place," Storm said. "Not your place."

"Yours, if you can guarantee we won't be overheard," Atlas said. "You're not going to trust any other location I name."

"Nope," Storm agreed. "After training. My car."

"I'll drive myself," Atlas said. He lifted his chin, not giving a centimetre. His brown-gold eyes were as steely as Storm's grey ones, hard and determined.

"I don't—" Storm started.

"I'll drive with you," Jay said with a frustrated exhale. "If it’ll make you feel better." He looked like a lamb who just offered to be placed on a spit and rotated over a fire for several hours.

Storm looked reluctant, but nodded. "Fine. If either of you try to screw us over…"

"Same to you," Atlas told him. "You haven't given me reason to trust you either."

"We're all going out on a limb," Dallas said. "If we're going to make this work, then we need to." He looked over to me.

"Dallas is right." I wanted answers as much as the rest of them, but I needed to trust all of them. I wanted to, I really did. I cared about everyone in this room right now, even when they were at each other's throats.

"Finish training, then we meet in the car park," Storm said. He nodded like the matter was settled.

"I still need to look at Atlas' nose," I said. "To make sure it's healing well."

Storm, Frost and Dallas all looked at me and Atlas. Clearly uncertain as to whether they could leave me alone with him.

I had to make a decision, right now. Did I trust Atlas, or didn't I?

"I'll be fine," I said finally. "It'll only take a moment." I stepped over to open the door. Gave them all a meaningful look, which they responded to with reluctance.

Jay was the first to step towards the door, followed by Dallas, then Frost.

"You too," I said to Storm, who looked as though he had no intention of going anywhere.

"I don't care if he stays." Atlas gave him a long look before stepping into the treatment room. Something of a warning to keep his distance, and not try anything in the absence of the other guys. They reminded me of a pair of dogs circling around a bone, or the carcass of some other animal. Each wanting to take a bite, but being held back by the presence of the other.

"Then I will," Storm said. He waved to the others out the door before leaning against the door frame and watching.

"He's a stubborn prick," Atlas remarked.

"I'd say you have that in common," I told him.

He grinned. "Guilty. But only on that count."

I looked searchingly into his brown-gold eyes.

He lowered his voice. "I promise, I'll tell you everything. Just not—" He stopped the moment Otis Skinner walked through the doorway into the infirmary. The other doctor gave Storm a glance, but walked past him, into his own office.

"Not here?" I finished for him. What did Skinner's presence have to do with anything? There was clearly something to it. Something more than them knowing each other from the Sydney Devils. Atlas was wary of Skinner. Was vice versa also the case?

Right then, I had more questions than answers. Including, what would my brother do? Knowing him, he'd have all the answers by now. By torture, or some other method. Either way, people opened up to him. I didn't have his charm, not that I knew of. If I did, I didn't know how to use it quite as well.

"Definitely not here," he agreed. "Be careful what you do here. And who you do it with."

"I never liked cryptic clues." I stood in front of him and ran the tips of my fingers up and down his nose.

He stood still, eyes focused on the side of my head. "I never liked giving them. But I like you alive. And I like myself alive. I am also aware the team's performance is better with Storm around. For now. He's a reasonably good fullback."

"Did you just admit you like him?" I teased.

Atlas’ gaze swivelled towards the door and he smirked. "Nope. I appreciate his skills as a footballer, not as a… I'd say human being, but I'm not sure if that definition fits." He smirked at the other player.

"Fuck off, Underwood," Storm said. "I'm as human as you are. More so."

"Are you always going to try to push each other's buttons?" I asked with a sigh.

"I'm not trying to push anything," Storm argued. "Just stating a fact. And defending myself after he tried to attack my humanity."

I raised an eyebrow at Atlas.

"He's fun to toy with," Atlas said. "Every time I throw out the bait, he takes it. I guess his mother didn't teach him to ignore guys like me."

He looked amused as hell. Having four older sisters, he must have learnt young to have a thicker skin when being teased. Between that and being in the public eye, he had to let it roll off his back like it was nothing. I suspected it got to him more than he let on. He wasn't like Storm who wore his heart on his sleeve. And his attitude.

"My father told me to use my fists with guys like you," Storm said. "If they give you shit, you give them bruises. Or broken bones.” His sidelong glance at Atlas suggested he'd happily give him both. Not in the same way he liked to leave bruises on me. They were a handful of words from coming to blows, and now was not the time for that. Not in the infirmary and not with everything else that was going on.

"It's time to put that behind you," I said. "You can't go around punching people just because you disagree with them."

"I don't," Storm said. "I use my verbal fists. If I used my real ones, Atlas would look like dog food." He seemed impressed at his own restraint. Me, I was just glad he held back and hoped like hell he continued to.

"You're all class, Keller," Atlas told him.

"Fucking right I am," Storm agreed. "The classiest." He stood up a little straighter, even though he clearly understood Atlas was trying to push his buttons yet again.

Atlas waited until I lowered my hands from his nose and leaned down to brush his lips over mine. "The only classy person I see around here is Chelsea."

He leaned down further to whisper in my ear. "I promise, you can trust me. I'll tell you everything. Just to do me a favour and stay safe until then." He straightened up and his gaze flicked toward Skinner's office again.

A shiver travelled up and down my spine. Skinner was a closed book, but was he a threat? Atlas certainly seemed to think so. His explanation couldn't come soon enough.

"I'll be okay," I said lightly.

Maybe Frost was right and I should start carrying around a scalpel strapped to my thigh. Or maybe I was paranoid.

The question was, would that get better or worse, depending on what Atlas had to say?

It was going to be a long afternoon, waiting to hear what that was.