Chapter 29
June
Five of us were standing around an examination table in my trainer’s room. Everyone had their arms crossed and looked concerned… except for Cole, who was sitting on the examination table with a frustrated expression.
“I don’t see the need to go public with this,” the Reapers’ marketing guy said. “Players are scratched at the last minute all the time. We can say he has the flu.”
I glanced at the TV mounted on the wall. The game had started ten minutes ago, and the crowd noise hummed through the walls of the arena like a distant thunderstorm.
“I’m fine,” Cole insisted stubbornly. “Give me ten minutes to warm-up, and I can start the second period.”
He hopped off the table, but his legs wobbled and he had to grab onto the team medic to keep his balance.
“I would highly recommend against that,” the medic said. “You were given a high dose of epinephrine. For the next few hours, it’s normal for you to experience nausea, dizziness, and heart palpitations.”
“How about you sit this one out,” one of the assistant coaches said.
Cole’s face twisted in anger. “Fucking try and stop me, eh?” But he didn’t make an effort to push through us.
The medic turned to me. “You’re the head trainer. It’s your call.”
Damnit. Why did I have to be the bad guy?
“You’re sitting out,” I said, allowing a trickle of authority into my tone. “Even if you are able to play two periods, you won’t be at a hundred percent. And as the captain of the team, you ought to set a good example for the other players.”
Cole glared at me but didn’t put up any more of a fight. That made me feel better.
“Great job rushing into action,” the medic told me. “Good thing you knew about his peanut allergy.”
“Yeah, he told me… a while ago,” I said. I couldn’t explain that I learned about it on our date.
“The caterer knows about my allergy,” Cole said. “Everything they provide is peanut free.”
“It’s been that way for years,” the assistant coach confirmed.
“What did you eat before it happened?” I asked.
“Same thing I always eat. Some crackers and pieces of cheese. And a few cookies.”
“We really let men get away with too much,” I said with a chuckle. “Everyone jokes about girl dinner, but your boy dinner is a lot more embarrassing.”
“I know what my body needs before a game,” Cole said defensively.
“Clearly not,” the medic said.
Cole glared at him. “I eat the same thing before every game. I didn’t try anything new today.”
I walked over to the food spread in the locker room. The others followed right behind me. “One of these cookies?” I picked one up and sniffed it. Then I took a bite to confirm it.
“I can barely taste it, but there’s definitely peanut butter in this.”
The assistant coach scowled. “Let me get the caterer in here.”
The woman who was eventually escorted into the locker room by a security guard looked confused and scared. I couldn’t blame her. This was potentially a life-threatening mistake.
She took one look at the cookies and vigorously shook her head. “These did not come from us. Our signature chocolate chip cookies are flatter and more consistently baked. These are different sizes. Probably homemade.”
“So someone switched them out?” the medic asked.
All of us were silent for a few moments.
“Is this related to the bomb threat?” I wondered out loud.
“First Rhett Lawson, now Cole Thibault,” the assistant coach said. “Are there any common denominators between those two players?”
Cole glanced at me, then quickly looked away.
What was going on?
The head of security reviewed the arena surveillance footage, and in the next hour, we had our answer.
A plate of cookies was found in one of the employee hallways between the locker room and the loading dock where deliveries were made.
While the caterer’s tray was waiting to be transported to the locker room, someone in a black Reapers hoodie walked up and switched out the cookies.
But even after reviewing all the other camera footage, they couldn’t figure out who did it—or where they had gone after making the switch.
“It’s a big arena,” the security guy explained. “We can’t cover everything. There are blind spots all over the place.”
Without Cole, the Reapers lost the game against the Dallas Stars, 2-1.
Cole was understandably upset about everything, and went home without saying goodbye.
My heart went out to the captain, and I sent him a text letting him know I was thinking about him, but all he did was heart the message without responding.
Rhett came back to my place later that night. We started fooling around on the couch, but neither of us were in the mood.
“Sorry,” he said when we stopped. “My heart’s not in it. I can’t stop thinking about Cole.”
“It’s okay to have bisexual thoughts about your male friends,” I teased.
He gave me a look.
“Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood. I’ve been thinking about it for the past few hours, too. Who would poison Cole?”
“It’s got to be related to the letter I got,” Rhett insisted. “Who would want to hurt both me and Cole? You don’t have a crazy ex-boyfriend, do you?”
“None that live anywhere near here,” I replied. “Maybe it’s someone who wants the team to fail?”
“This job is tough enough without having to worry about this shit,” Rhett said. “Can I crash here tonight? I don’t really want to go back to my place.”
I snuggled up closer to him on the couch. “I’ll protect you, Rhett.”
He snorted. “My hero.”
Two days later, we had a long road trip to Canada, with games in Ottawa, Montreal, Toronto, and Vancouver.
Even though Coach Jay told us that we shouldn’t spread gossip about the catering incident, the entire team knew about it by then.
Everyone nervously glanced over their shoulders and inspected their drinks and food on the plane.
It continued when we had the team dinner at the hotel restaurant in Ottawa. The players around me stirred their food with their forks while looking around at everyone else. Nobody wanted to be the first one to take a bite.
“For fuck’s sake,” I said loudly, shoveling pasta into my mouth.
The last thing the team needed was this kind of distraction. Especially Cole and Rhett, who had been specifically targeted.
I couldn’t make the rest of the team relax, but maybe I could do something about those two.
Back in my room, I texted Cole.
Me: I need you to tell Coach Jay that your knee is bothering you.
Cole: Why?
Me: Just trust me.
Cole: Got it. I think I know what you’re getting at.
The players were on the floor above my room, so I took the stairs up with my clipboard in hand. A member of the team’s security was sitting in a chair in the elevator lobby, and nodded at me in passing.
Coach Jay was in the hallway, speaking quietly to another staff member. When he glanced over at me as I passed, I said, “Cole told me his knee is bothering him?”
“He mentioned that. He’s in room 1209. Let me know if I should limit his time on the ice tomorrow.”
“Will do,” I said with a mock salute.
Cole’s door was cracked open. I gave a polite knock, then let myself in and closed it behind me.
When I turned around, Cole and Rhett were there.
“You know, my shoulder has flared up again.” Rhett rolled his arm in the socket and pretended to wince. “I think I need some physical therapy. Emphasis on physical.”
I quietly engaged the deadlock on the door and smiled at them. “I think I can make that happen.”