Chapter 8
Georgia
Even before I parked the car, I was faced with insanity. There was no other way to call what I was seeing on the lawn of the Seattle Iceplex.
There had to be at least thirty people holding signs and upon a quick glance, I was shocked at what had been written on some of them.
Shifters are dangerous. Kill them all.
Shifters are beautiful people.
Don’t allow shifters to take over our world.
And my personal favorite directed toward Ford personally.
Ford. Can I have your baby?
The signs were all vivid in color, some larger than the person carrying them and the two opposing sides were standing fifteen feet apart.
Maybe out of fear of killing each other.
At least with Roxanne’s revelation from the night before, I better understood why the coach had been certain to tell me ‘they’ weren’t dangerous.
He was referring to the shifters and not the human players.
My God. I was really buying into the fact that the very creatures I’d most been terrified of as a child, the beasts I’d been certain had found ways into my room and were hiding in the closet were real.
Apparently, these folks believed in the twilight zone.
There was even a local television crew hanging out with the protestors. Or super fans. I wasn’t certain what to call them.
I shuddered as I exited the vehicle. Being this was the last game of the regular season, it would appear all the crazies were out in full force. I grabbed my things, including the books I’d brought with me, trying to avoid running into them.
But one person with a clipboard in her hand rushed toward me as if she had a firestick driven where the sun didn’t shine. She was forceful enough I was all but attacked, pushed against the driver’s door of my car.
“Will you sign the petition?” She had the nerve to shove the clipboard in my face.
“About what?” The mood I was in didn’t accept a full body check without being pissed.
I’d learned a little bit of hockey language in the last few days.
I pushed her back, giving her a very evil eye.
However, the closeness allowed me to catch a few of the words on the form in big, black, block lettering.
SIGN THE PETITION TO REMOVE ALL SHIFTERS IN EVERY SPORT
I was sick to my stomach.
“We don’t need dangerous, horrible animals playing alongside our good, decent humans. That’s just unacceptable.” She was angry, as if it was my fault shifters existed. The woman was frothing at the mouth while chanting. Even worse. People were paying attention.
It was a good thing I didn’t have serial killer tendencies. Hmmm… Maybe I’d take that up for sport or as a nice little hobby.
My blood pressure was rising, which wasn’t a good thing for her. Chill, girl. Calm down.
I tried. I really did.
“Why do shifters bother you so much?”
“Why?” she snapped, spittle flying across my face.
Was she kidding me?
“Because they’re disgusting animals. That’s why!”
While I hadn’t started a fight in a very long time because quite frankly, Hoffman had all but beaten the spunk out of me, I guess the emotions were a lot like riding a bike.
I crowded her space, taking several long strides until she almost tripped on the curb leading to the sidewalk.
When I spoke, I wasn’t shouting, but I was very clear and full of intent with my tone.
“Lady, I don’t know who you are, but I can tell you’re a bigot and I very much refuse to tolerate bigots in my life.
As far as the men on this team and my guess is in every other sports team on this planet, those who are shifters are human beings first and foremost. They eat, sleep, fuck, and are injured just like everyone else.
They have families and children, enjoy barbeques and holidays.
They laugh and they cry. They have empathy and fears.
They own businesses, all of which humans frequent.
They are doctors and lawyers. Just like humans.
” I tossed her some clear shade with my gaze, throwing a nasty look all the way to her toes.
“Well, maybe not all humans. So why don’t you take your petition and go… somewhere else?”
The rest was implied and she got my meaning immediately. You bet I was on fire.
I was finished with playing Miss Nice Guy. No longer.
When I was rewarded with a shocked expression, I grinned, even rewarded with several people applauding.
“Well,” the woman huffed. “I never.”
“And you won’t either,” I shot back. “Because you’re such a… nasty person, you’re going to miss out on just how amazing they are in bed.”
Ha. Take that, you witch.
When her face turned beet red, I huffed and spun around, pushing my way through the rest of the people, barely paying any attention to the applause coming from behind me.
With anger stiffening my muscles, I stormed into the building, moving from one corridor to another. Was that really the type of garbage that shifters had been dealing with? Obviously, I’d been on another planet and for far too long.
That’s when I realized what I’d spouted off loudly enough the entire crowd had likely heard, including the part about hot sex. What was wrong with me? What?
I passed by a few players, who jumped out of my way. There were a couple of whistles and I threw my hand back at them. Let them know I was a tough woman. That would suit me just fine.
Three days.
Three grueling days of dealing with attitudes and innuendos.
And questions.
Lots and lots of questions.
Maybe more now after dealing with that horrible woman. I was cursing under my breath as I slammed my hand on the double doors coming into the players’ area.
Maybe I was tenser than normal based on the dream I’d had the night before.
Dream. The erotic fantasy had felt very real, especially since I’d remained on the couch and when I’d awakened, I’d noticed dirt between my toes.
I wasn’t a sleepwalker, but logic would say I’d walked outside at some point.
As if I was running like Little Red Riding Hood as Ford had required.
Oh, God. I’d never be able to look him in the eyes again.
“Georgia. Can I see you for a minute?” Coach Stryker stuck his head out his office door, his face more pensive than I’d seen.
He lifted his eyebrows when a deep and very ragged breath escaped my lungs.
It seemed lately I wasn’t very good at checking my emotions. I chose to blame Ford, his curt attitude continuing at the same time heat had exploded between us.
“Sure.” I headed inside, checking my watch as I did. I was running late, my car battery giving me a fit that morning. “I do have a full day ahead of me though.”
“This won’t take long.” He closed the door but sat on the edge of his desk instead of moving to his chair. “Did something happen?”
For a few seconds, I thought he was talking about the dream. Then I quickly realized I probably looked harried from dealing with the woman outside.
“Just a freaking interaction with a holier than thou woman trying to get me to sign a petition. I told her what for.” Now I was huffing and puffing.
“A petition for?”
“Against shifters in sports. How freaking ridiculous. Granted, I don’t know all the ins and outs of the situation, but I can only imagine shifters are tormented on a regular basis.
They have feelings. They have amazing attributes.
Right?” I shook my head, shocked that I’d rattled off my statement with steam oozing from every pore.
“Wow. Okay, then. Maybe this conversation won’t be so difficult.
Roxanne was over for dinner last night and mentioned you two had a long chat the other night about Ford and a few other members of the team.
Honestly, I thought you were well aware of the existence of shifters.
I didn’t mean to bring you into a situation that would make you uncomfortable. ”
“I’m not uncomfortable about Ford or any of the players being shifters, although I’ve yet to figure out which ones are which.” I laughed nervously. And angrily. “But I tell you what. Seeing the signs out there just boiled my blood.”
His chuckle was humbling. “Apparently. I’ve seen them. I’ve lived with them for three years. Just wait until you experience them on the road. Thankfully, there aren’t as many people in protest, but still enough that it can make every game interesting.”
“Well, good. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll be as calm the next time.”
“Then I guess I don’t feel so bad with not telling you which players are shifters.”
“Does it really matter other than anatomy?”
“No. They can be a little more hotheaded and you’re right about the anatomy. Similar but different. They typically heal faster.”
“Something has changed with Ford. The last two days he has improved tremendously. Honestly, I’m shocked just how much.”
“Enough to feel confident in him being able to play the last regular game tomorrow? It’s an important one and Ford had been bugging me to death. Don’t worry. If he’ll permanently injure himself, then I’ll tell him no.”
“Let me see how he is today and I’ll let you know.”
His smile widened. “Sounds perfect. I’m very glad you’re here.”
“Thank you. I am too.” I headed toward the door. “I think.”
“Oh, if we win tomorrow night, pack your bags.”
“What?”
“Given our standing among the teams I anticipate will make the playoffs, we’ll be forced to play the first group of best of three in their hometown. Nothing is close so we’ll be flying to the destination and staying for a few days. And you are definitely going.”
I resisted sighing since I loathed flying. “I’ll be ready.”
My mind was still wrapped around my fear of flying, which was why when I rounded a corner, I wasn’t paying any attention to where I was going.
“Oh, geez,” I muttered, dropping the books I was holding and forced to grip the thick, hard muscles of the person I’d run smack into, the moment jarring. Almost instantly, I was aroused, my nipples hard and a wash of heat driving through straight to my core.