Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MICAH
We lost. Big fucking surprise, though this time, it wasn’t entirely my fault. I wasn’t all the way on my game, but neither was our defense. Or the wingers. The only person working their ass off was Daniel, and he managed to get the three goals we scored, which took the sting out of losing to five.
But it wasn’t great, and I was completely distracted as I ignored everyone in the shower.
All I could think about was Ben and the fact that he might know something by now.
He disappeared halfway into the first period and didn’t come back until five minutes into the second.
And I only knew that because I heard Antoine talking about his mysterious vanishing act when he was undressing.
So I fumbled my way through getting dressed, then grabbed my cane and made my way down the hall to Ben’s office.
The corridors were quiet now that almost everyone had fucked off, and I walked to the rhythm of my beating heart. It was a little fast from nerves, and I couldn’t ignore the shaking in my hands as I touched the braille beside Ben’s door before letting myself inside.
I could hear the haptic feedback of his phone and the quiet voice of Siri only just loud enough to make out through his earbud.
“Am I interrupting?”
“No. Sit.”
I couldn’t read the tone in his voice, which I hated.
I found the chair, then plopped down and began to twist my cane between my fingers.
“So?” When he said nothing, I fought off the urge to dive across the desk and strangle him.
“Dude. I will send you so fucking much weird-ass animated porn if you don’t say something right now.
I just heard about something called dick-neck hentai.
I will flood your inbox from now until next goddamn Christmas if you don’t give me—”
“Andrew quit,” he said, cutting me off.
I frowned. Was that supposed to mean something? “Who the fuck is Andrew?”
“The guard at the gate,” Ben said slowly. “He quit without notice last night. Right after he let in a black Cadillac XT5.”
My heart sank to my feet. I had no idea what kind of car that was, but it sounded like something Hunter’s pretentious ass would drive. And then the reality of what he was saying hit me.
Andrew. The guard at the gate.
He quit after letting Hunter in.
“Are you serious?”
“Security has video of him waving the SUV through, but there was no audio, so we don’t know what was said.”
“Oh, what the fuck?” I said, my heart settling into my feet. “So what does that mean?”
“Well, we have the license plate, so we can go to the police and—”
“No!”
Ben went dead silent, and I didn’t really blame him. But also, he couldn’t go to the police.
“I mean…no. I mean…” Fuck. How did I explain this without explaining this?
“Micah,” he said very slowly, “I need you to tell me what the hell is going on because none of this is normal. One of my star players, one of my good friends, is being stalked by a strange man. We have proof. On video. And you don’t want me to go to the police about it?”
I took a deep breath. “What I say is between you and me right now, okay? As friends,” I told him. “Not coach and player. Not boss and employee or whatever makes you think you need to handle it.”
Ben cleared his throat, then sighed, and I heard the squeaking of his chair as he sat back. “Fine. As friends.”
I wasn’t feeling very optimistic that I was going to convince him that this was the right thing.
Mostly because I wasn’t sure this was the right thing.
I felt lost. And pretty fucking scared. “I went on a couple of dates with this guy, and it didn’t go well.
I cut him off, and he turned up a few months later, threatening me.
He says he has a video of me that he’ll release to the public if I do anything to expose him. ”
Ben blew out a heavy puff of air. “You have proof of him saying this?”
“Yeah. He texted it to me. I don’t think he’s a professional stalker or anything because as far as I know, he’s not using a burner. I think he’s just trying to hurt me.”
“Why?”
My brows flew up. “How the fuck should I know? Or are you asking what I did to deserve it?”
“No, Micah,” Ben said, sounding a little tired. “I don’t think this is your fault. I’m just trying to understand how this started. And how it got so out of hand. I can tell you’re scared, and that makes me want to track this guy down and beat him until no one recognizes his face.”
“Sorry.”
I pressed my hands over my face and scrubbed them down. His words did make me feel a little better. Sometimes it was easy to forget that people did care about me, no matter what kind of person they thought I was.
“It was just a Grindr date. We tried to fuck. I failed at it like I fail at most things. He started talking shit about my ability to get it up, and I kind of broke down and told him things I hadn’t told anyone else before.
Now he says he has a video of the whole ordeal.
I don’t know if it’s true or not, but Ben, I need you to understand I cannot handle having to talk about a fucking sex tape to the press.
I can barely talk to them about my game. I…I can’t. I’ll die.”
“I’m not going to let that happen,” Ben said softly. “Does he know where you live?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We had two dates before everything went to shit, and he dropped me off both times.”
“Okay.” He was quiet again. “And Vanya…?”
Fuck. I’d almost let myself forget he was on the tape. “He was trying to protect me.”
“By kissing you,” Ben said.
“We weren’t…it wasn’t like that.” Not in that moment anyway. But Ben didn’t need to know that. “Vanya was with me the night before. And when we were in New York, the guy found me at a club after the game, and Vanya was there to intercept him too.”
He stood. His pacing footsteps were heavy. “Okay. So I can ask him to come by and verify this is the same dude?”
I really, really didn’t want that. “Do you have to?”
“No, but if things get any worse, we will have to involve the authorities. We can’t let some rando from Grindr sexually harass and threaten my fucking star goalie.”
I swallowed thickly. “Can you give me some time to get him off my back first?”
“I don’t want to,” Ben said. “It’s my job as your coach to protect you. And as your friend,” he added when I sucked in a sharp breath. “And if he knows where you live—”
“I’m not staying there,” I told him quickly. “I haven’t been back to my place. I—” Well. I couldn’t say I was staying with Vanya. Not now. That would give everything away.
“This isn’t your problem,” I told him. “I was going to call Hugo after we talked and have him come get me. Just…give me a couple weeks, okay?”
Ben hesitated, and his steps halted right beside my chair. “Yes, but only for now. If he shows up here again—if he gets into the arena somehow—I’m putting a stop to it. I’m not going to let you get hurt.”
It was too late for that, but I wasn’t going to say that either. “Thanks, Coach.”
“Yeah,” Ben sighed out. He squeezed my shoulder once, then let go. “I want you to start forwarding me his texts.”
I stiffened. “What? Why?”
“So I can also keep an eye on what’s going on. And so other people have evidence too, in case we need to take this further.”
“God, you a fucking PI now?”
“No, but I have a friend who is,” he said plainly, and I jolted.
Leave it to fucking Ben to have contacts.
The dude was probably in the mafia and using that money to fund his career as a hockey coach.
“You don’t want cops involved, that’s fine.
But you can’t sit on your ass and hope this goes away.
You know it won’t. People like him don’t get bored easily. ”
I knew he was right, and I hated that. But a PI was better than the cops. Hopefully, the person knew how to be discreet.
“Send me the texts tonight, and if he doesn’t back off after a couple weeks, I’m going to step in. And before you freak out on me,” he added, because he was right, I was about to, “I’m not going to say anything to anyone else. Just let me help if I can.”
I had no choice but to agree. “Fine.”
“You’re fucking welcome, by the way,” Ben said, obviously a little irritated and probably right to be.
“Look, I do appreciate it.” My voice was barely above a whisper at this point. “It’s just been a lot, okay? I know I’m going about this all wrong, but if he’s serious and he can ruin what’s already a pretty shitty reputation…”
Ben’s hand dropped on my shoulder again. “That’s not going to happen. And if it does, we will fix it.”
I bowed my head. I didn’t believe that. I couldn’t believe it. Ben could control a lot of things, but public judgment wasn’t one of them. Still, I appreciated him as both a coach and a friend. “Thanks for this,” I murmured.
He tugged me to my feet and wrapped me in a tight hug. “We’ll fix it,” he repeated one last time.
Hell, if he said it enough, I might just start to believe him.