Chapter 10 #2
“So this is how to get your attention,” I teased.
“Admit it. This isn’t normal behavior for my brother. You’re more likely to stick your head in the sand.”
I leaned back against the headboard of my bed—same frame, but a new mattress from when I’d lived here. “I promised you I was going to change.”
“I know. I just wasn’t sure you could.”
I still wasn’t totally sure, but I was trying. “This guy isn’t so different from my hockey coaches. He wants me to hurt.”
“What? If he’s not helping you—”
I appreciated the support but explained what I meant. “He thinks I’ve avoided dealing with painful stuff in the past so I need to feel it now, or something.”
“Do you think he’s right?”
I didn’t want him to be, but I had to try. Try so that Jess could be happy and my team could trust me. Both really good reasons to do the hard work. And if there was anyone I trusted and could bare myself to, it was Jess.
“Maybe. When I punched Alek—it was like all the stuff from that summer, after we found out about the Denbrowskis, just came out. And I couldn’t punch his parents, but I could hit him.”
“Oh, Jus.”
I heard a creak. It sounded like the stair, second from the top, that I always avoided when I was sneaking in.
I’d had Jess on speaker, so I set the phone down and slid off the bed quietly. In bare feet, I crossed to the doorway and glanced around.
Marge was on the creaky step, her phone in her hand, pointed at my room. It looked like she was recording what I said.
That anger we’d talked about surged. I jumped around the corner and reached for her phone. Her eyes went wide when she saw me and she jerked her hand, the phone slipping and falling down the stairs in three or four thuds.
“What the fuck?” I roared.
She turned tail down the stairs and I followed. She reached for her phone, quickly grabbing it, but I made a living using my reflexes. I was able to snatch it from her with my left hand and hold it up out of reach.
“Were you recording me?”
Her eyes skittered around the hallway. “I, um, I need to report—”
I could distantly hear Jess’s voice on my phone, asking what was happening. I took some of the deep breaths my therapist talked about.
“You wait here,” I told Marge.
“My phone?”
I ignored her and climbed the stairs, shoving her phone in my pocket so I could pick up mine.
“Sorry, Jess, something’s come up. I’ll call you back.”
I didn’t wait for her response, just ended the call and then went down to face off with Marge again.
Her arms were crossed and her chin raised. “I need my phone back.”
I couldn’t tell if it was still recording, the face smashed and the screen dark. It could have gone to sleep, or it could be broken. In any case, I didn’t want anything Marge might have accessed to leave the house.
I scrolled through my contacts to the team liaison who was supposed to be handling my “problem.”
Marge bit her lip and took a couple of steps back, toward the front door.
“You, stay.”
Trevor answered.
“This is Justin Johnson. We have a problem.”
“Do we?”
“The nurse, aide, whatever that you hired—I just found her recording a phone call with my sister. She might have been doing that for the session I had earlier with my therapist. Is that what she’s supposed to do?”
Marge took another step away. I frowned at her and she paused.
“What? She’s only supposed to monitor your recovery and let us know if you do anything…concerning.”
“Like talking to my sister?”
“No. She’s signed an NDA. If she reveals anything, we can sue.”
I snorted. “The NDA is worth fuck all once the news is out there. Ask me how I know.”
A moment. “Right. You’ve been through this. Sorry. I’ll speak to the agency and we’ll get someone else.”
“What about anything she might have already told? And what she’s recorded on her phone here?”
“Let me speak to her.”
I held out my phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
He didn’t talk for long, but Marge paled.
When she passed the phone back, her hand was trembling and I felt a twinge of remorse.
I was a big guy, and I didn’t like to intimidate people off the ice.
But the memory of what she might have heard and recorded and then spilled for everyone to know and dissect? That stopped any sympathy.
She picked up her bag from where she’d left it by the front door. She shot me one glance before leaving, without asking for her phone back.
I grabbed my hair with my hands, clocking myself with my cast. I slid down to a sitting position in the hallway, wondering what part of me Marge would share with the world.
I’d been here before, after Sharlene left me for her married basketball player.
He’d been popular, and the whole city had wanted to know every detail.
Including every fucking thing they could find out about me. Never again, I’d sworn.
The next day they sent someone new. She didn’t know who she was assigned to, obviously, but when I opened the door her eyes widened before she asked for a selfie. I let her have a picture, then told her this wasn’t going to work.
The third person they sent I recognized immediately. I’d gone to high school with him, where he’d been on the school newspaper and interviewed several of us hockey players. It hadn’t been flattering. I sent him away too.
Maybe either of those people would have been fine.
They’d have done their jobs and kept quiet.
But Marge had scratched at the wounds the press left after my marriage became scandal fodder, and I wasn’t willing to take the risk.
I didn’t want the team to send anyone else.
Not unless it was someone I could trust.
The last guy popped into my head. He’d had a name on his scrubs, Caring Hands. Mia had the same name on hers. They must work for the same company. Maybe she knew someone reliable. Maybe…
Maybe Mia.
I stood perfectly still for several minutes after that thought bubbled up in my head.
I needed to talk to her. Probably apologize. The idea of seeing her again made my heart rate pick up like after a long shift on the power play. I wasn’t ready. But the idea of going through a media frenzy like I had after my divorce made me want to crawl inside myself.
Never, in all the years since we broke up, had I ever come across anything Mia had revealed to the press.
When I became a hot topic, after Sharleen left, every part of my life had been raked over.
But none of the things Mia knew about me, none of those secrets, had ever come out.
She could have gotten money for it back then.
And if her stepfather wasn’t working, it must have been tempting.
Outside of Jess and my teammates, and even more than some of those guys, I did trust her.
It was probably a terrible idea, but I had to do something. And my therapist wanted me to face the painful things in my past. I drew a long breath and called Trevor.
“JJ. I hear you sent off the latest aide.”
“He interviewed me in high school for the school paper. He didn’t like hockey players, and it showed.”
“Fuck. Sorry, we’ll get someone.”
“I have someone. She works for the last company, Caring Hands. Her name is Mia Bailey.”
“You know her?”
“Know her and trust her. We went out in high school, and she’s never told anyone anything. Get her to come.” Now that I’d started the process, I wanted it done.
“Not sure that will work. Kind of crosses some lines.”
“You can make it happen somehow. I want to focus on my recovery, not wondering who next is going to take pictures or record my therapy sessions.”
I heard his sigh over the line. “Fine. We’ll make it happen. But there’s going to be paperwork coming out the wazoo.”
“I’ll sign whatever. Please—I’ve been through the media circus before and I don’t want a repeat.”
“I’ll get back to you.”
I slid my phone in my pocket and took a long breath. This was either the best or the worst idea I’d had. Now I wasn’t sure if I wanted Mia to agree—or not.