40. Sutton
Chapter forty
Sutton
“Any news?” I ask Bash from my spot on the couch as he strolls into the living room on Sunday morning, having just hung up the phone with Hunter.
I feel so bad about what happened to Elias last night.
I was exhausted, more so than usual since little miss decided to be super active the night before, so I stayed home, but I watched the game on TV, and it was heartbreaking watching Elias being helped off the ice.
They kept showing the replay to the point that I had to change the channel for a few minutes because I couldn’t keep seeing him get hurt over and over again.
He shakes his head, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Not good. He’s probably going to need surgery.” He takes a seat on the couch next to me.
“Shit.”
“Yeah. It’s going to be a long recovery.”
I bury my head in my hands. “This is all my fault. I should give my father the hotels.”
I feel the cushion sink, and then he’s wrapping his arm around me. “No. No, you shouldn’t. Elias wouldn’t want you to.”
I lift my head. “Still, I feel terrible. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. There might not be any other way …”
He opens his mouth and then promptly closes it, furrowing his brow and pulling his phone out. He stares at it for a few seconds, types on it, then turns it to me.
Wes: Whittaker said he heard part of a conversation in the locker room the other day, and it seemed shady. It was about an easy way to make money. Asked to meet for coffee.
Me: When and where?
Wes: Tomorrow. 11 a.m. Sugar Cubes.
“Who’s Whittaker?”
“One of the guys Wes played with in the AHL. He plays for the Wings now.”
I inhale a sharp breath. “You think it’s that widespread?”
He takes his phone back from me. “I don’t know, but we wanted to cover our bases, and it seems like we were right.”
“And you think it’s safe to meet up with this guy?”
“I think it’ll be fine. We’ll be in a public place with plenty of people around. He’d be stupid to try anything. Besides, Wes says he trusts this guy, and I trust Wes.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.”
“This seems too … easy?” I rest a hand on my belly where little miss is moving around. “This has the potential for suspensions or even bans. The end of careers. For what?”
Bash barks out a laugh. “Not all hockey players are smart, but we also don’t have any proof yet. For all we know, Whittaker has nothing that can help.”
“True.” And it’s for that reason I won’t get my hopes up.
“We’ll have to see what he says tomorrow.”
I yawn. I’m so over being tired all the time. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”
“Do you want company?”
I stand up. “Always.” I hold out my hand, and he takes it, getting to his feet before tugging me gently into his embrace.
He kisses me then rests a hand on my stomach. “You two doing okay?”
I stare down at his hand, purple and blue and cut up from his fight last night. “Aside from the occasional heartburn.” I rub my chest. “And the sleepless nights when she decides to play soccer all night. I’m good. Anxious for this thing with my father to be sorted.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” I search his face. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. If anything, I should be apologizing to you and Elias. Hell, probably to the whole team.”
My heart races. I hate that Elias got hurt. I hate that it’s my fault he’s going to need surgery. It fucking sucks, and not just because the team needs him in the post season, but because he doesn’t deserve it.
“You know he doesn’t blame you,” Bash whispers as he leads me down the hall and into our bedroom.
“I know. But I still feel bad about it,” I tell him as I climb into bed. “You’ll make sure he knows he can count on us, me, to help him if he needs it?”
“I will, love,” Bash says as he makes himself comfortable next to me.
I close my eyes and drift off to a restless sleep where I’m plagued by my father demanding I give him what he wants.