Chapter 22
Cole
Despite being late for practice, I was having an amazing day.
I floated through my obligations as if I didn’t have a care in the world.
I didn’t even mind that I had to go to the optometrist and get an emergency order of contact lenses.
The only thing I thought about was my date with June, how perfect it had gone, and the sizzling events afterward.
But in the blink of an eye, it was ruined by Coach’s announcement.
“A death threat?” I blurted out.
Coach Jay cleared his throat and read from the sheet of paper. “If Rhett Lawson plays in the next game against the Edmonton Oilers, a bomb will go off in the locker room.”
This created a commotion in the room, everyone jumping up and looking around.
“STOP!” Jay shouted through the chaos. Everyone returned to stillness. “The police have already been here. The locker room, and every other inch of the arena, are clean.”
“Probably should’ve led with that,” June muttered, glancing at me.
For a moment, my heart was filled with light. I had it bad for this girl.
“The arena is safe,” Jay reiterated. “The higher-ups wanted to keep this from you, but I believe in transparency with my players. Besides, Rhett was the one who found the letter, and I know he can’t keep a fucking secret to save his life.”
“Guilty as charged,” Rhett replied, which drew a few nervous laughs.
There’s one secret he’s been able to keep all this time. He and June had slept together weeks ago and nobody knew. I felt a small pang of jealousy that he’d gotten to hook up with her first, but it disappeared as Coach began speaking again.
“Everyone here is one hundred percent safe. It’s important that you know that fact. High-profile players get death threats all the time. This is almost certainly just a threat, nothing more.”
Coach Jay paused before continuing.
“Having said that… we’re taking this threat seriously, just in case. In the interest of player safety, I’ve made the decision to bench Rhett tomorrow against the Oilers.”
The reaction was like an actual bomb going off. Everyone started shouting at once, and Rhett leaped to his feet and got in Jay’s face, gesturing angrily. June’s eyes were wide and innocent as she took it all in.
I got up on the bench and let out an ear-piercing whistle that immediately silenced the room.
“If Coach Jay thinks this is best, we should trust him.” I didn’t need to raise my voice. I was the captain, and my words carried weight. “If anyone wants to argue about it, they can argue with me, too.”
Coach Jay nodded at me in thanks. “This information doesn’t leave this room. No press, no wives, no girlfriends. Keep it to yourself. The last thing we want is to create a public fiasco or encourage copycats. Understood?”
“Yes, Coach,” everyone said.
“Take your frustrations out on the ice,” he said. “I’ve got some new drills planned for you today, and I want to see every one of you sweat!”
Practice was a grueling one, and my legs felt like wet noodles by the time we hit the showers. After changing, I went into the trainer’s room for my knee stretches. June was busy working on another player, so one of the interns came over to help me.
But then June said, “I’ll work on his knee, Candice. You take over with Porter.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
June grunted when she was next to me. “It still feels weird being called boss. I’m not used to having two interns. You doing all right?”
“I’m good. Honestly, the knee hasn’t bothered me in almost a week.”
June began probing around my knee, then lowered her voice. “I meant about the bomb threat.”
I shrugged. “Not the first time. I get a few death threats per week on social media. More than that if I fuck up on defense and allow a goal. What about you? First bomb threat, eh?”
“We used to get bomb threats all the time in high school,” she said quietly. “Usually some asshole trying to avoid a test they didn’t study for.”
When she leaned forward, I could see down the front of her polo shirt. She was wearing a black bra with lace around the edges.
I pulled my gaze up to her eyes. We were in public, after all. “This is different.”
“Is it?” she asked. “You just said you get death threats all the time.”
“On social media,” I clarified. “This was a letter shoved into Rhett’s locker.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess I didn’t consider that. Who do you think did it?”
I gazed through the window into the locker room. “I don’t know.”
“One of the players?” she asked. “A backup who wants to take Rhett’s place next game?”
“Nobody on the team would do this,” I said firmly.
“Sorry. Just trying to think it through.”
“You’re fine. I just know my boys. None of them would do this.”
“Then who?”
“Maybe a stadium employee? I don’t know. Coach said the security footage was deleted.”
“I don’t like that,” she whispered while massaging the muscle right above my kneecap. “If someone can sneak into the locker room without a trace…”
I turned and cupped her chin until she was looking at me. “Hey. Nobody is going to hurt you, June. I promise. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “You can’t promise that.”
I clenched my jaw. She was right.
But I didn’t like it. As the captain of the team, I felt responsible for everyone’s safety. Including non-player employees like June.
“It’s probably nothing,” I reiterated to her. “Bomb threats never amount to anything. If they wanted to do actual violence, they wouldn’t warn us with a note first.”
“Good point,” she said, but she didn’t sound very confident about her safety.
And for that matter, neither did I.
*
The game against the Oilers the next day was full of tension thanks to the bomb threat.
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were all in danger out there on the ice.
Security had been ramped up dramatically for the game, but it didn’t comfort me.
Hockey games were chaotic, with countless deliveries being made and employees coming and going.
If someone wanted to smuggle a gun or a bomb into the arena, it would be difficult to stop them.
With my mind preoccupied, I made two defensive mistakes in the first period—one of which led to a goal.
On the other side of the ice, our offense was struggling without Rhett.
The official story was that he was sitting out because his shoulder injury had flared up, but he was still right there on the bench, dressed for the game.
He was very obviously frustrated with riding the bench, shouting at opposing players and referees alike. Midway through the third period, Coach Jay had to tell him to sit down and stop picking fights with the referees, or our team would receive a penalty.
All of it led to a horrible game, which we lost, 5-2. Rhett was calm until we got to the locker room, and then picked up a spare helmet and swung it with both hands into a locker, over and over, until the locker was dented and the helmet was smashed into a hundred pieces.
“We know how Rhett feels about sitting out tonight,” Coach Jay said to the room. “Shake it off, boys. It’s just one loss. We have a short road trip tomorrow. Don’t be late for the flight.”
June was watching through the window in her office. I shared a look with her, then began my post-game routine.
Being a pro athlete was tough enough without all these distractions. But the sight of June filled me with a comforting warmth.
I was glad she was in our corner.