Epilogue
Davis
Icheck my phone again. It’s been a long time since Nala contacted me. Sure, Levi’s in the text thread, too, but he’s not responding. Probably hunkering down with Tab for the night.
I don’t like that Nala works for McNally.
The guys have started to come forward with their own stories about that asshole.
None of them as bad as what we’re thinking he did, but enough to know that he lives in the gray area.
Threatening players. Holding things over their head so they didn’t come forward.
Too scared to speak up for fear of losing their dream.
Every single pro player worked their ass off to get here, and people like McNally just swoop in and threaten it. It’s pathetic.
Whatever Nala found, it might corroborate some of these stories. Hopefully enough to at least get him fired. If we’re lucky, it might be enough to send to the police to get him arrested.
We need him as far away from Nashville as we can get him.
My stomach dips as I take the elevator up. The team headquarters is unnaturally quiet. I’ve never been here after hours or when there was hardly anyone here.
But I don’t think it’s the eeriness of this place that is getting to me. It’s seeing Nala again.
The elevators open, and from here, it’s a straight shot to her desk.
Except, she’s not there.
I scan the area as I walk that way. The lights are mostly off except for a few above her desk that seem harsh and unnatural against the shadows. I don’t dare call out for her in case there are others here.
I’m about to pass the bathroom when I hear a whimper. I backtrack, listening for a moment.
Sniffles.
A small cry.
I push the door open and find Nala slumped on the floor, her back against the wall.
“Nala?”
She peers up, her cheeks wet with tears, a crumpled-up paper towel in her hand.
My stomach squeezes—fear, anger, uncertainty hitting me all at once. “Nala, what’s wrong?”
“D-Davis?”
A fresh round of tears floods her. I kneel next to her, placing my arm on her shoulders. Her familiar warm skin nearly burns straight through me. I missed this. I missed her. “Are you okay?”
“It’s so bad,” she says, and her entire body shakes as she throws herself at me.
I grind my teeth together. “Is it McNally?”
“Yes…”
THE END