Chapter 35 - June
June
My anger faded as soon as Cole was gone, and was quickly replaced with a tight ball of anxiety that settled into my stomach.
Rhett poked his head into the room a minute later. “Is, uh, everything all right in here? We heard y’all yelling.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. “Or else I’ll be accused of gossiping behind Cole’s back.”
“Oh. Uh. Okay.” Rhett looked like he wasn’t sure what to do, so he returned to the locker room.
Elias was staring at me through the glass. When we locked eyes, he gave me a brief nod, then returned to changing out of his workout clothes.
Later that night, when I was home and was on my third glass of wine, I texted Rhett about it.
Me: Sorry if I was curt with you. I asked Cole about an aspect of his personal life and he got really upset.
Rhett: Hey, I can take a punch or two. No problem. You okay?
Me: Not really, no. Can I come over?
Rhett: Bad timing. My sister’s in town, remember?
Me: Shit, you’re right. Sorry.
Rhett: We’re going out for dinner in a while, if you want to meet us for drinks before? I’d love for you to meet her. Or at least, I’d love for her to meet you.
Me: I think I’m in for the night. Thanks though.
Rhett: Hope that wasn’t, like, too big of an ask. Meeting family, I mean. I’m not trying to move too fast or anything.
Me: No! Not at all. Everything’s good. I just want to wallow in my misery.
I sent him a photo of my feet propped up on the coffee table with a glass of wine in my hand.
Half an hour later, he sent me a response.
Rhett: Just talked to Cole on the phone.
He’s real pissed about this for some reason.
Got mad at me when I asked what you two were fighting over.
Said something about people need to stay out of his business.
Anyway, I think you ought to give him some space for a while.
He’s got a lot on his mind, ya know? Hope you don’t take it personally.
Me: Nope, I won’t take it personally. Thanks for letting me know.
Rhett: Anytime, sexy trainer lady. That’s what my sister’s calling you. She’s not wrong, by the way.
Me: Tell her I said thanks :-)
Rhett’s text made me feel a little better, but then I started crying.
My hormones felt all out of whack, and I didn’t want to give Cole his space, and Rhett wanted me to meet his family, and oh by the way I was sleeping with Elias too.
All of it overwhelmed me, and I laid back on the couch and let my emotions take over.
I wasn’t hungover the next morning, but I called in sick anyway.
I didn’t feel like dealing with people, and I definitely didn’t feel like smiling and pretending like everything with Cole was okay.
I was terrified that if he looked at me the wrong way, I would burst into tears again.
And I might die of embarrassment if the rest of the Reapers players saw me crying.
Rhett and Elias both texted to see if I was okay since I had called out, which was nice, but Cole didn’t reach out. That felt like a punctuation mark at the end of our fight.
After wallowing in my misery that day, I woke up the following day feeling a little better. Team practice wasn’t until three o’clock, but I was antsy, so I texted Elias.
Me: Hey! Want to meet early for your workouts like we’ve been doing?
Elias: No thank you. I will be there at 3:00. Coach knows I am doing extra training with you, so we do not need to hide it.
Me: How about we meet for lunch, then? I’m bored and am looking for something to do before practice. My treat.
Elias: Thank you. But I have plans.
Me: Okay no worries.
But I didn’t have no worries. I had many worries. It felt like all the guys were giving me the cold shoulder suddenly. Even Rhett, although I knew he had a legitimate reason for not being able to hang out.
For someone juggling three relationships, I felt awfully lonely.
I decided to fall back on what had worked in the past: exercise. Endorphins would set me right. I packed a gym bag, then drove to the arena. One of the fringe benefits of working for the Reapers was that I had access to a state-of-the-art exercise room whenever I wanted.
There was extra security posted up at every arena entrance, and another guard patrolling the employee halls. Their presence was calming, a sign that the team was taking all the threats to Cole and Rhett seriously.
Normally, I could only tolerate the treadmill for thirty minutes, but the podcast I was listening to kept me interested for a full hour.
Then I made a protein shake and hit the weights.
A full-body routine would make me feel better.
Squats, deadlifts, bench press, plus accessory work.
When my podcast ended, I switched to Lady Gaga’s Mayhem album and cranked it way up, leaning on the upbeat music to brighten my mood.
Between the music and the familiar repetition of the resistance training, it actually worked! I was feeling more like myself with every passing minute.
Until I heard a noise out in the locker room.
I sat up on the bench and paused my music. There was only silence. I leaned to the side, peering through the windows into the trainer’s office. I could see a tiny sliver of the locker room beyond.
Ten seconds passed. Then twenty.
I was about to go back to my workout when there was a flash of movement. Someone was in the locker room.
“Hello?” I called out.
Heavy footsteps, and then another flash of movement. I got up and went into my office, grabbing the pepper spray from my bag on the way. The locker room was empty, so I went to the door and peered out into the hallway.
Someone was walking away at a brisk pace.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Can I help you?”
The man glanced back at me, then started running.
I don’t know why I decided to react the way I did. Maybe it was all the frustrations from the past two days boiling over. Maybe I desperately needed a win.
But whatever the reason, I immediately sprinted down the hall after the man.
I should have called the police, but I didn’t dare slow down enough to take my phone out.
The person turned down a hallway ahead, and I slid around the corner to follow them.
I was gaining—they were only fifty feet away now.
“STOP!” I shouted. “INTRUDER!”
He darted down another hallway, and I pumped my arms like I was a track star setting the record for the hundred yard dash.
This might be the person who had caused so much stress and chaos to the team, to Rhett and Cole, two men I deeply cared about.
They couldn’t get away. There was a conduit pipe running vertically on the wall, and I grabbed it and used it to swing my momentum around the corner, eager to keep the suspect in my sight.
He stood right in front of me, striking out with a fist.
My vision flashed bright from the blow, and then something hit me in the back of the head.
I blinked at the ceiling; somehow, I’d ended up on my back.
Even though I wasn’t moving, the walls were spinning around me whenever I blinked.
There was a wet sensation on my face. I touched my nose and my fingertips came back red.
The man who stood over me had a strong nose and jet black hair cut short, like a soldier at boot camp. He looked annoyed more than anything.
I opened my mouth to scream, but only a squeak came out.
“You should have gone back to your office,” he growled. “You could have ignored me. Now I have to do this. You made me, you stupid bitch.”
Something bright flashed in his hand. A knife.
This couldn’t be happening. It all seemed so ridiculous. Two minutes ago, I was bench pressing while jamming out to Abracadabra. And now I was about to die.
And the worst part of all: I never had a chance to make up with Cole. That felt like a horrible injustice.
As the man raised the knife, I hoped that Cole wouldn’t feel too guilty about it.
Suddenly, my attacker looked to the side. Someone barreled into him at full speed, sending them both tumbling down the hall.
Elias!
The two men wrestled for the knife, fingers gripping and grasping for wrists in a struggle that meant life and death.
Elias won, and the knife slid across the ground toward me.
The huge goalie was on top of my assailant now, punching him once, twice, three times.
The man stopped fighting, and went still on the ground.
Elias stood, looming over him like a giant. “I could kill you,” he growled, “for what you did to her.”
He picked up the knife, squeezing it in a fist. His knuckles were white, his eyes wide and bloodshot as he stood over the man who had caused us all so much pain and trouble. For a brief moment, I was certain Elias would kill him. He looked like a god, impossibly strong and full of wrath.
Then there were shouts down the hall. Security guards came running, falling to their knees next to the attacker. One held him down, while the other cuffed his hands and checked his pockets for more weapons.
Elias knelt, touching my cheek with a tenderness that I never would have imagined from the man I had seen only seconds before. He lifted me off the ground and into his arms like I weighed nothing, then began carrying me away.
“You are safe,” he said with more of a Swedish accent than normal. “I will not allow anyone to hurt you, June.”
And somehow, I knew he meant it.