“H’lo? Yeah, it’s me.”
His whole body tensed, and Holly felt the distance he put between them even before Luke pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn’t miss a beat on the phone that was expertly cradled between his ear and his shoulder.
“No way. I told you, that’s not an option,” he said, stalking out of the bedroom. “I don’t care how you do it, just get him the money. I can’t have this traced back to me.”
The words stopped her heart. She jumped up with some half-formed plan to follow him, but she only made it three steps from the bed before the unthinkable caught her eye.
Dazed, she walked toward his jacket, askew on the chair back, just as he’d left it. A folded piece of yellow legal paper poked out of the inside breast pocket.
She unfolded it to find a list of letters and numbers in stark black ink.
And just like that, her perfect morning crumbled.
It can’t be Luke.
The man who was so sweet and thoughtful, the man who needed hockey to breathe, surely he wouldn’t do something that could earn him a lifetime ban from the game he loved?
And yet there were other things—his parents’ modest dwelling and pile of bills, Ethan’s intense physio regime and state-of-the-art equipment, the fact that a hockey player who should have adequate funds had said things like “money’s tight” and “I can’t have this traced back to me.” Something wasn’t quite adding up there. She’d tried her best to find a more viable suspect, but something always cleared them.
Brett Sillinger had pouted when his Lamborghini got repoed.
J.C. LaCroix had done the responsible thing and downgraded to a family car because he had a baby on the way.
And Eric Jacobs, who’d been her least likely suspect in the first place, had apparently been dealing with some intense family issues that correlated with his slightly-below-average play-off showing.
Luke, on the other hand...
Holly sat on the edge of the bed, the over/under list clenched in her fist.
He’d shown up in the bathroom moments after she’d found the betting sheet, and his ringtone matched the mystery man’s.
His truck was nice, but in the grand scheme of luxury vehicles, it was pretty low on the scale for a six-year veteran who was currently earning almost two million a year.
His parents must’ve invested huge amounts of money into making their old house fully accessible, not to mention the cost of Ethan’s physio studio and medical bills. And she’d heard several sports outlets reporting that Brad Timmons had recently filed for bankruptcy, which meant the Maguires were receiving no financial help from the man responsible for their money woes.
And she’d caught Luke twice now in the midst of suspicious-sounding phone calls, the most recent one specifically about untraceable money.
She didn’t want to believe it. Luke loved the game and he was fiercely protective of his teammates. It was beyond comprehension that he would jeopardize his career or his team’s integrity this way.
But even as she thought it, she knew there was one thing he loved more than hockey—his family. He would do whatever it took to take care of them. Manipulating the games a little was an easy way to help pay down his family’s debts, to take care of his parents and his little brother.
And maybe that straight-arrow reputation he’d built up—the one that made her doubt he was capable of it—was the key to getting away with the crime. He had the perfect cover.
She had to ask him.
She was in love with Luke and she owed him the truth about her suspicions, the right to defend himself, to give his side of the story. Before she exposed it to the world.
14
“LUKE, CAN WE TALK?”
He’d barely stepped back into the bedroom after a massive fight with his brother’s bank. The somber note in Holly’s voice made the hair on his arms stand up. “Sure, yeah.”
He took a seat on the corner of the bed opposite her. “What’s going on, Holly? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, but she backtracked immediately. “No. It’s not, actually.” She sighed.
They made eye contact and he didn’t like what he saw there.
“Luke, I’m just worried about you. I know you’ve had some money trouble.”
“What?”
“You were obviously speaking with a bank just now. And I get it. Your family is amazing. And they needed your help, but manipulating hockey games...that’s a dangerous road to start down. So if it’s about money...”
His muscles tensed and his jaw hardened. This wasn’t a talk. It was a cross-check after the whistle. The kind that left permanent damage.
“What are you trying to say?” His eyes dropped to the yellow paper clutched in her fingers. He shot to his feet, eyes lighting on his suit jacket, askew on the chair. “Have you been going through my things?”
“I found a list, Luke. When I was in the Storm bathroom that day that we kissed. This list. And aside from the first one, every single play-off game has ended with the same over/under as the list predicted. That’s not a coincidence. Someone is manipulating the games.”
“And you’re accusing me?”
Her silence was all the answer he needed. Luke experienced a moment of full-body pins and needles and then...nothing. Numbness settled over him with a finality that reminded him of death. “You believe I would do that.” It wasn’t really a question, since she’d already said as much. More of a reckoning.
“Luke, I know how important your family is to you. You’d do anything it took to make sure they’re okay.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “But this? After all we’ve been through? I kept your secret! I introduced you to the people who mean the most to me in this world. I fell in love with you, Holly.”
She looked like he’d punched her. That stricken reaction to the words he’d wanted to say for longer than he was willing to admit was the final nail in the relationship that had turned his world upside down. “And this is what you think of me.”
Her brown eyes were swimming in unshed tears, and her chin trembled as she fought to hold them back. “Luke, the evidence—”
“Fuck the evidence! I would never do what you just accused me of! Not for any amount of money. I wouldn’t do that to my family. I wouldn’t do that to my guys. We’re a team, Holly. We trust each other. We back each other up. I can see you don’t know anything about that, but that’s how we operate. It’s how we win games and it’s how we lose games. Together.”
“But the stats, and that phone call about untraceable money and Ethan’s top-of-the-line rehab equipment...”
“That’s your reasoning? Let me tell you something about money. Pro hockey players make around three hundred thousand dollars a year in the first three years of their contract. Unless they get paralyzed. Then they make nothing. But they still have to live, Holly. They need money to eat, to buy a wheelchair, to pay for medical bills and specialists and daily physio. Whatever it takes for the chance to walk again.
“The parents of an injured pro have to remortgage their house when they should be gearing up for retirement, because sidewalks have to be widened, ramps have to be built and garages have to be converted into rehab facilities. A paralyzed player needs a new van to accommodate a wheelchair. And when things start looking bleaker and bleaker, he has to figure out how to finance a car with hand controls so that a broken hockey player can live the fulfilling, independent life he deserves, even if he doesn’t regain full use of his legs.
“So, yeah. Money’s tight. My paycheck might have a few zeroes on the end of it right now, but there are millions of dollars of catching up to do. And the secrecy? The phone call you overheard? That was just for Ethan’s pride. Because he’s already struggling with accepting physical help, and I didn’t want him to know about the fi
nancials, that the bastard who ruined his life claimed bankruptcy and that all his money is coming from me.
“He needs to focus on recovering, on himself, not worrying about his family. And maybe I should have told him. But I’m his big brother and it’s my job to protect him. I didn’t do it on the ice that day, but I’ve damn well done whatever it takes to make up for it ever since. And that’s my call. Not yours.”
She was trembling now, and he hardened himself against her imploring eyes. “I’m sorry, Luke. I can see I made a mistake. I just wanted to bring my concerns to you. To be honest with you. And I realize this is hard to hear, but every prediction on the list I found has come true save one, and that is not coincidence. If it’s not you, it’s somebody else on the team.”
His protectiveness roared up with a vengeance. “Leave my guys out of this!”
“I won’t!” She came to her feet then, too, and the change in her, from meek acceptance of his lecture to formidable warrior ready for battle, was startling. “I sat here and I listened to your side. Just because you have an explanation for my evidence does not mean it was ridiculous, so don’t you dare stand there and demean it. I’m an excellent reporter, Luke.
“I do my homework and I test my hypotheses. Just because my conclusion about you was proven false, doesn’t let your team off the hook. This list still belongs to somebody who used the Storm bathroom that day.” She held it up, and it trembled because her hand was also trembling.
“It’s not mine, obviously,” she said, “so by process of elimination, thanks to your ridiculous game-day superstitions, that means it’s one of your teammates.
“And you want more honesty? You want to be able to trust me? You know that fair and honest article on the Sports Nation blog? The one about how you’re hurting your team? I wrote that.”
Blood roared in his ears as he processed that betrayal.
“I wrote it before I ever met you and when I found out they were going to publish it against my objections, I asked them to take my name off it. Because not hurting your feelings and continuing to work for the Storm meant more to me than the byline that would have helped me reach my dream job in sports reporting.
“You think I’m out to hurt you and the team? Then why have I kept this illegal activity under the radar instead of selling the story to any number of media outlets who would pay me large sums of money and give me my pick of jobs? Your heart is not the only one that got bruised here. And while I’ve always admired your loyalty to your teammates, if you do not figure out who is poisoning your team right now, then you’re all going to end up infected.”
Luke crossed his arms, kept his voice level. “I think you’ve said everything there is to say. You should go.”
“I agree.” The tears she’d so valiantly held back spilled down her cheeks, but he refused to be moved. Holly’s words were impassioned, but they didn’t change anything.
All this time he’d been giving her his heart, and he meant nothing to her. Just as he’d accused her of from the start, all she’d wanted from him was a career-making story. She’d written the Sports Nation article. She’d been investigating them the whole time. And he’d taken her to his home. He felt sick to his stomach, like he’d just put the puck in his own net.
He’d let his heart overrule his head. Ignored the clues—he’d caught her in her lies about not knowing hockey, listened raptly to her stories about her mother and her childhood dreams of becoming a reporter. She’d been rubbing it in his face for their entire relationship, and he was too stupid to have even noticed.
She might have kept this story secret for a couple days, but she wouldn’t sit on it for long.
He should have trusted his instincts and fought harder to get her fired from the get-go. He’d had his own suspicions about the list but he’d let her distract him. And now his reputation, the reputation of his entire team, was going to be dragged through the mud in the court of public opinion. All because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.
He was the worst kind of fool—a willing participant in his own downfall. That ended now.
* * *
“FIRED?”
The word felt like ash on her tongue, chalky and bitter. The taste of lost dreams.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Evans, but it was stated very clearly in your contract that you were not to interact with players outside of your professional capacity.”
“But who—?”
“I’m sorry, but we can’t release that information. Suffice it to say, a reputable source came forward and we have no choice but to enforce the terms that you yourself agreed to.”
Said contract sat on Hastings’s formidable oak desk, mocking her. Holly raised her eyes from the blinding whiteness of the paper with binding black type marching in perfect lines that reminded her the striped prison garb in old-timey movies. She raised her eyes to the man who sat across from her.
“I don’t even get to defend myself?”
“I’m afraid the informant is a rather...important member of the Storm’s organization.”
Hastings was one hell of a finesser, she’d give him that.
“As such, we will be terminating your contract immediately and your services will no longer be required. In return for this short notice, you will receive your full compensation, as outlined in your notice of hire. Do you agree to these terms?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I will take that as a yes.” Hastings slid another piece of paper toward her. “We do require you to sign this nondisclosure agreement, which states that you will not discuss the details of this parting of ways, or anything leading up to it, upon threat of legal action.”
She grabbed the pen and with numb fingers, scrawled her signature on the designated line.
Luke had sold her out. She’d gotten too close to hurting the team and he’d turned her in.
Betrayal burned white-hot in her chest, and she had to gulp to get enough air in her lungs. The fact that he hadn’t even given her a heads-up... She understood that he was angry at her, but at least she’d had the courtesy to bring her concerns to him first, even though it had been the last thing she’d wanted to do. She’d been honest with him. To his face. Because she loved him.
She hated herself for it, but she did. Even when she’d believed he might have been involved in illegal activity, some part of her still believed that what they’d shared was real. And now, when he’d sold her out, she was still conflicted about breaking the story.
Luke had seemed genuinely hurt by her accusation, even as he’d confirmed all the reasons that some extra money could have gone a long way. She thought of Luke’s parents, of Ethan, of everything the Maguires had been through. Luke loved his family enough to do anything for them, but she hadn’t considered what a betting scandal would do to them if he’d been exposed. He would never have taken that risk.
She’d interpreted the evidence, but she’d boiled it all down to numbers, to probabilities and stats. She’d been so focused on doing what it took to get the job of her dreams that she’d failed to take the man himself into account. And now she’d lost everything. Her story. Her job. And the man she loved. Unsure what to do with herself, she gathered her things and headed for her father’s house. He looked up with surprise as she entered the door.
“What are you doing here in the middle of the day?” he asked.
“I got fired, Pop.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say about this?”
All her frustration, all her anger, everything she’d kept bottled up since the night she found out her mother was never coming home again roiled up from the depths and she was powerless to hold it in.
“Everything I’ve ever done is to make you proud, and you just look right past me!”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true
! I’ve been sitting on this couch beside you for years trying to get your attention, and all you’ve ever done is ignore me and watch sports! So I watched sports, too. And I learned everything there was to learn about them. Players, rules, stats, just so we could have a conversation sometime. But you wouldn’t even give me that! You just act like I’m not even here!”
“Holly—”
“Don’t ‘Holly’ me! You talked sports with Neil! Why not me? Why not me, Pop?” She was too angry to cry, too exhausted to shout anymore. She was just empty. Holly sat on the couch in her usual spot and stared at the basketball game on the television.
“When I lost Mom, I didn’t think anything could ever hurt as badly as that again. But I was wrong, because Mom didn’t leave me on purpose. Not like you did.”
Her dad got out of his chair and joined her on the couch. In her entire life, her father had never sat on the couch. She almost jumped when he put his hand on her knee.
“You remind me of her. Especially when you’re on camera. That’s always been hard for me.”
Holly looked at her dad, felt like she was seeing him for the first time. “What?”
“You’re smart and beautiful and you’re so good at everything you do. Of course I’m proud of my girl. But sometimes it hurts to look at you because I miss her so much. I didn’t realize how unfair I’ve been to you all these years. I never meant...I never meant to push you away. I love you, Holly. I do.”
The words brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time her father had said something nice about her, or told her he loved her. Throughout the years, his sporadic comments were always externally focused: “work harder, know more, do better.” And she had. She’d lived her whole life striving to be good enough for him. To actually hear that he was proud of her made her heart swell.
“They were stupid to let you go. You’re an expert at that game. If they can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you. And you’ll show them. Because when you put your mind to something, there’s nothing that can stand in your way. Now don’t go and cry on me. I’ve never been good with that.”
Playing to Win Page 16
