Chapter 34
Grayson
The apartment is so quiet I can hear my heartbeat.
The team is on a string of away games, and I’m stuck here.
But as a consolation prize, I have brand-new state-of-the-art computers and monitors to watch the team’s live stream.
It’s not the same. We turned my room into a temporary office with the remote equipment required so I can do my freelance job.
It depresses me because I hate the reminder of what I’ve lost, and Austin’s room is lonely without him.
He’s worried, and the more time goes by, the more my anxiety increases.
It’s been weeks, and the charges against me haven’t been dropped.
My lawyer says it’s Dumas’s team’s way of financially pressuring me to take a plea deal.
I’d have to plead guilty to battery, which my lawyer said is out of the question because based on the video.
I had reason to fear his aggressive behavior and should only consider plea offers of third-degree assault.
I’ve learned so much concerning the differences between assault and battery and the degrees. Time wasted.
If I didn’t have a lawyer, I would’ve caved and pled guilty to make it go away, but it’s a risk since I could go to jail and be unemployable.
If Mr. Dimon weren’t paying me a consultant fee as an independent contractor, I’d be living off of Austin.
The string of unhelpful what-ifs won’t do me any good, and I unlock my phone to use my app to refocus.
The separation is harder than I thought. I miss Austin. I miss the guys. There’s no way to check their pain levels without looking them in the eyes.
It all got so fucked up.
I watch the game in real time, and my assistant uses a video link for me to talk to the players between periods. When Austin’s face appears, my eyes drink in his sweat, but he’s too close to see any problems.
“I miss you,” I blurt out totally unprofessionally.
In the background, Lucky yells, “Aww.”
Austin mouths, “I miss you too.” We stare at each other for a full minute without speaking. It’s been years since we’ve been away from each other this long.
“Your right ankle turned in when you shot on goal in minute five.” My eyes flick down as if I can see his leg.
“I didn’t notice a twinge or pain.” He grins at me.
“You favored your left leg after that so get some ice on it, and track it to make sure it was a fluke and not a developing ache.” I’ve learned not to say problem or injury to the players. For them, it’s inviting trouble. They live with constant aches and pains, so it’s not upsetting to them.
“Will do, Sunshine.” Austin touches the screen, and I do the same. “Only three more days,” he whispers.
“Okay, my turn.” Lucky plops onto Austin’s lap and Drake growls. “Don’t get upset, Daddy Drake, my Gray’s gonna give me the breakdown of my body movements.”
“Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Does everything feel okay?” I lean closer to the screen to see his eyes.
“All good, Sunshine.” He smirks and Austin whacks the side of his head.
“Do. Not. Call. Him. That.” Everyone in earshot is startled by Austin’s venom.
My assistant takes the phone away so I can talk to more of the guys, which is good to take the focus off the way his anger is turning me on at being claimed like that.
The team scrapes by, winning two to one. It will be the first time Austin will be in the pressroom since charges were filed against me. Finn kept him out to give the story time to die.
The team’s official response has been noncommittal, and the Enforcers have not confirmed nor denied my firing. Finn has fielded questions but maintains the team is cooperating fully with the investigation and following the proper procedures and guidelines until the truth is disclosed.
It implies the team believes I’m telling the truth regarding my self-defense, but this way they have plausible deniability.
Austin’s got his interview face on, a polite but detached smile. Even though the team won, he’s most likely beating himself up over a few blown plays.
The interview starts fine with hockey questions, but one reporter asks him about me. “Is it true that Grayson Ward, the accused assailant, is your longtime friend?”
“That description of him is false, but our friendship is well documented.” Austin’s jaw ticks.
The reporter yells another question without being called on. “Do you fear for your safety around him?”
Finn steps up to the mic. “No more questions regarding an ongoing investigation.” He calls on someone else to ask a question.
Austin’s fuming and after a few more questions, Finn announces time is up. Austin stands abruptly, knocking over the chair he’s sitting in.
“I’d like to state for the record, Grayson Ward is one of the best men I know. I’m proud to be his…friend, and I’ve never feared him.” He storms off camera, and it’s a toss-up whether to kiss him or kill him.
My phone rings two minutes later.
“Tinny,” I breathe.
“No shot you missed my presser, huh.” He sounds defeated.
“I love you for it, but you shouldn’t have given them any leverage.” I wish I could see his face, but he’s in the locker room, and it’s common courtesy not to video while the team changes and showers.
“Ugh, I hate being so helpless. And the press dude looked smug as fuck.”
“And you gave him what he wanted—a reaction.” I lean back in my chair. “Someone is knocking on our door.”
“Take me with you.”
“You’re cute when you worry,” I tease, knowing he won’t argue with me with the team there.
“It’s an officer,” I whisper. I’m frozen with the phone to my ear, one hand on the door, and looking out of the peephole.
“I’m right here. Hopefully, it’s good news that the criminal case has been dropped.” His voice is so excited that I don’t bother telling him that’s not how it works.
I open the door. “Can I help you, officer?”
“It’s sheriff,” he says indignantly.
“My apologies.” I wait for him to state his business as he glares at me.
“Are you Grayson Ward?”
“I am.”
“You’ve been served.” He hands me an official envelope and walks away.
“What? What happened?” Austin shouts into the phone, and I’m glad the sheriff is down the hall.
“Hang on, let me open the envelope,” I say, blindly walking over to the island to set it down and sit before my knees give out.
Carefully tearing the seal, I scan the papers, but my brain glitches, and I can’t speak.
“Talk to me, Sunshine.”
I let out a grunt, forcing my brain back online.
“Dumas is suing me. Lost playing time. Damages. Emotional distress. Five million dollars.” My voice cracks on the last word.
“I will end that motherfucker.”
“No, don’t do anything. Promise me, Tinny.” The quartz countertop cools my overheated forehead.
“I’ll fix this,” he vows.
“You can’t take action without permission from my lawyer and Finn. Please don’t accidentally make it worse.” I’m not sure that’s possible, but I won’t tempt fate.
“Don’t worry. He doesn’t have a case.”
“Yeah,” I say, unconvinced. A civil case has a lower threshold for the burden of proof. “Let me call my lawyer, and I’ll call you back.” I hang up while he whispers he loves me, and guilt stabs me through the heart.
My lawyer has me scan the documents on my phone to send to her.
“This is very stressful, but it’s not terrible news. My sources say the criminal charges are going to be dropped, so I assume this is a last-ditch scare tactic on their part. We’re going to countersue for ten million,” my lawyer says.
I smother a gasp. “What?”
“Trust me, it’s not going anywhere. It’s about optics and paperwork.”
I bite back a rude comment about the lawyers winning with their paychecks. But Mr. Dimon is paying her, and it’s not my business. My sole role is to do what she tells me.
After hanging up, I lie on Austin’s bed and inhale his scent. I’ve never felt so alone, but I don’t answer when he calls back.