Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Chelsea
I stepped out of the shower and quickly dried myself. I was a little stiff and sore from the thorough fucking, but satisfied as hell. I was very ready for the meal the guys were preparing, and an early night.
Tomorrow, I'd figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
Now the world knew what I used to do for a living, no sports team was going to hire me.
No general practices either. I could set up my own, but I'd probably struggle to get patients through the door.
I'd be lucky if I was allowed to attend my own graduation ceremony.
Maybe it would all blow over; until then, I had no choice but to come up with a plan B. Right now, I couldn't begin to think what that was. I'd have to give myself a few days grace. Or a few weeks maybe. I'd figure things out, I always had before. I needed to get through the next few days first.
I hung the towel up on a hook in the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom to quickly get dressed.
I didn't know when, but at some point Frost had clothes in my size delivered to his cottage.
Apart from scaring the shit out of me earlier, they were the most thoughtful guys. A girl couldn't ask for better.
Dressed in comfortable track pants, a long sleeved T-shirt and a Smashers hoodie, paired with thick socks that looked like something my brother would have bought for me, I stepped out into the living area.
“So, then he said, I don't care how many laps your coach made you run, he's not here anymore," Frost was saying. "And we said—" He stopped to look over at me and smiled softly. "Hey, we have a guest."
"Yeah, I can see that. Coach Stanley, you're looking well." And very much alive. Curious, considering Dominic King had Storm and Atlas kill the man for him.
"Please, call me Max." He held out his hand.
I shook it and glanced over to Storm and Atlas. "I thought you…"
Storm snorted. "We weren't going to kill the best head coach we've ever had. We brought him out here so he could hide until we dealt with all the shit back in Dusk Bay."
"Which I'm grateful for," Max said.
"There's another cottage on the property," Frost supplied. "We figured we should invite him over to fill him in on things."
How far away was that cottage? None of us were trying to be quiet while we fucked. If the expression on his face was any indication, he'd heard plenty, but was happy to pretended he hadn't. That suited me. I wasn't ashamed of anything we did, but I didn't necessarily need him overhearing either.
"I'm sorry you got caught up in all of this." I slid into a stool at the kitchen island.
He shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend I'm happy about any of it, but they could have killed me and tossed me into a shallow grave. I count myself lucky my players are loyal. They were just telling me you were fired." He looked regretful.
"I suppose I should be glad I'm not in a shallow grave too," I said on a sigh. "Apparently a public shaming was enough."
"For what it's worth, I don't see how your past job has anything to do with being a team doctor," he said. "The players all respect you. You're good at what you do. They'll come to realise that."
"I think it's for the best," Frost said. When I looked at him sharply, he continued. "I like it better when you're not in the vicinity of King or Skinner. I'm starting to think we should have stashed you here with Coach weeks ago."
"You think I would have let myself be stashed?" I nodded thanks to Atlas as he placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of me. It smelled delicious, full of potatoes and other vegetables.
"You would have if I said so," Storm said. "I should have. Letting you stay there with the team was a mistake."
"May I remind you, it wasn't your call," Ramsey said. He was in the kitchen cutting open bread rolls with a knife that looked sharper than it needed to be. "That order came from way above both our heads."
"I don't give a shit," Storm told him. "If I wanted Chelsea hidden, she'd be hidden. If they didn't like it, they could fuck all the way off. I don't take orders from them."
"Yes, you do." Ramsey tossed the rolls onto a plate and placed it on the island, within reach. "Whether you like it or not, you do."
"Not when it comes to Chelsea and her safety," Storm insisted.
"Then I only take orders from myself. I don't care who I have to piss off.
She's my priority. Her and the rest of you.
" His expression softened slightly when he looked at me, then at Frost. The other four were his brothers, he had the softest spot for the two of us.
Frost frowned at Ramsey. "Would you really put her at risk just to follow orders?"
"At risk, no," Ramsey replied. "I did my best to make sure she wasn't. But the bridge you would have burned trying to do your own thing would have burnt you."
"Ramsey is right," I said quickly when Storm and Frost opened their mouths to argue with him.
"I was safe and it's not worth making enemies of the Brantley family. I might have avoided ending up in my brother’s workroom, hanging from chains, but I can't guarantee the same for any of you.
" He wouldn't have liked it, but if he had no choice, that's what Ice would have done.
"Is it weird I'm a little turned on by that?" Frost asked.
"Not even a little bit," I told him. "When we get home, I can chain you up in our basement if you like."
"I'd like that," he said with barely contained glee, that he dialled back when he remembered Max was in the room. He looked over to him, an awkward smile on his face.
Max responded with a chuckle and indulgent shake of his head, has dark hair flopping onto his forehead.
"If you think you can say anything that would surprise me, think again.
I've been around rugby players all my life.
There's not much I haven't heard or seen.
Or done. I won't lie, the whole mafia thing was something I didn’t anticipate, but I should have.
I was aware Dusk Bay had a dark side. Darker than other cities.
I was na?ve, and thought they wouldn't infiltrate the team.
Of course they would. They did the same with the Demons, why not us? "
I leaned over to quickly pat his arm. "Don't feel too bad about it. They were a lot more subtle with the Smashers than they were with the Demons. I'm not even sure the owner is aware."
Ramsey cleared his throat.
I sighed. "That answers that then. Is their last name Brantley? Or Bell? Maybe Lasalle or DiMarco?"
"Mack D'Antonio," Ramsey said. "He's a close friend of Reuben Brantley.
If anyone could consider themselves close to him.
When it comes to the team, he keeps a low profile.
Officially, he's a businessman and the team is just another asset.
It's likely he doesn't care too much what happens to the team, or at the stadium. "
"He knows who King and Skinner are though, right?" Frost asked.
"He'd be aware, yes," Ramsey agreed. "That backs up my thought that Reuben wants them to make a move. He's letting them get comfortable before he destroys them."
"Or he doesn't care either." Storm scowled.
"That's possible," Ramsey conceded. "At least, about the team. He's not going to let them get a firm foothold in Dusk Bay."
Max raised his hand. "Can I ask a question? What can I do? I don't want to let these people destroy our team."
"You wait," Ramsey said. "While they think you're dead, you're safe. When this is over, the team will need its head coach back."
"I hope you have some logical explanation for my disappearance," Max said. "And subsequent return from the dead."
"It was a miracle," Frost said, holding out his hands in front of him, fingers splayed.
"It's a good question," Storm said. "What are we going to tell people?"
"Max had a bout with a 'serious illness,'" Ramsey said. "He had a miraculous recovery."
"How are we going to explain the body in the burnt out car?" Storm insisted. "He was already dead," he said before anyone could ask.
"Mistaken identity," Ramsey said easily. "He stole Max's car and got into an accident. Any other questions, we'll figure out later."
"You boys went to a lot of trouble to keep from killing me," Max said gratefully. "I appreciate that."
"Nothing you wouldn't have done for us," Storm said gruffly. "Besides, Atlas might have been able to kill you, but I couldn't. I don't want to go around killing people if I can help it."
"Lucky they didn't send Frost," Jay said. "He might have done it." He sat quietly until now, eating his soup and roll, and listening to the rest of us talk.
"Not to Coach," Frost protested. "I offered up my cottage, remember?"
"I might have remembered if I knew about this before half an hour ago," Jay said. He turned to me and added, "They left me and Dallas out of it.” His tone was tight, like he'd been quietly seething, gathering his thoughts, and now he was ready to let them out.
"You were grieving," Atlas said. "If you knew what we did, you wouldn't have been so convincing." He cocked his head at Jay, brow creased as though somehow surprised by his boyfriend's response.
"Maybe I would have." Jay squinted at Atlas. "Did it cross your mind to let me make that call? Or did you want to keep it a secret?" His dark eyes were laced with hurt and anger. He was as blindsided as I was.
Should I be angry too? Possibly, but I wasn't. I was happy to see Max and more than a little relieved Storm and Atlas hadn't killed him. They'd taken a huge risk though. Failing to follow an order like that could have gotten them killed. Keeping it from the rest of us wouldn't have been easy.
For his part, Dallas didn't look even slightly bothered. Yes, they lied, but with good reason. That was the past, he'd already moved on from it. Knowing him, he was probably thinking about fucking me, not worrying about what the other guys had or hadn't done.
"Babe, I didn't want to lie to you." Atlas draped an arm over Jay’s shoulders. "The fewer people who knew, the better. What if they suspected and asked you outright? Would you have been able to look them in the eyes and lie to them?" He silently pleaded with Jay to understand and forgive him.
Fuck knew we already had enough conflict between us, without this damaging what they had.
"We'll never know." Jay stepped away from him. "You didn’t give me the chance. I thought you trusted me." He crossed his arms and firmed his jaw. Classic defensive posture, wanting physical and emotional distance between him and Atlas.
My heart hurt to see it. Was there anything I could say or do to help him understand? Honestly, I wasn't sure he'd be receptive to words from anyone right now. He needed to take a few moments and calm down. Then he might be ready to think rationally and listen. At least, I hoped he would.
Frost reached out a hand to Jay, but he jerked away from him too, leaving the other player to drop his arm and step back a little, giving him some space.
"Jay, I do trust you. Of course I do," Atlas started. "Not about that, it's?—"
The lights flickered a couple of times before they went out, plunging us into darkness.