THIRTY-THREE
HAYDEN
MICHIGAN
FEbrUARY
"I need you to prepare for what I'm about to show you."
Ramirez sits across from Emerald and me at our kitchen table, his hands tightly folded in front of him.
He's not dressed in his usual detective attire; instead, he wears a dark hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, similar to my own style.
His dark hair is disheveled, and he pushes aside an empty coffee mug, though the caffeine doesn't seem to have helped the exhaustion on his face.
I wonder if Ramirez has slept since calling yesterday to give us his flight details. Ruby drove to the airport to pick him up and will be taking him back tonight. Aisha and her team uncovered information in Rick's files that she insisted had to be delivered in person, not over the phone.
Ruby stands in the doorway holding a mug of coffee. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, watching the detective with narrowed eyes.
"Oh, Jesus Christ," Ruby mutters. Ramirez shoots a dry look, which she returns.
"I'll start with the good news."
I glance over to Emerald. She manages a small, shaky smile and pulls her hand from her lap. I reach across the table, lift her hand gently, and press a kiss to the back of it, hoping to reassure her.
It's been a week since we got back from Wisconsin.
Emerald spent the week filling the rental house with pieces of us she didn't want to bring with us to Boston.
Pictures and trinkets from college, our furniture from our Minnesota apartment.
We've been talking about paint colors, projects, and how long we want to stay.
A year, maybe. Long enough to find our footing again. My therapist says we can't go back to who we were, that's not how life works; we're ever-changing. But we can carve something better. We are carving something better.
We're actually doing things again. Not just trying to cram time together in the small spaces that hockey in Boston used to give me.
We're dating again. Dinners at Margaret's, grocery shopping, going to all of Emerald's favorite antique shops, and coffee shops.
We'll order a pizza and have movie nights, cuddled up on the couch and tossing popcorn back and forth into each other's mouths.
It would be a lie to say I don't miss hockey, because the sport was a huge part of my life. I loved playing, I loved skating, I loved the freedom I felt when I skated as fast as I could, feeling like I was flying. I loved how physical the game is.
But Emerald is irreplaceable, and the balance was tilted too far away from what's important.
In Minnesota, I had a balance that Boston never gave me.
But Boston hasn't let go of us yet.
"We caught a rat."
Aisha explained that a rookie cop hired earlier this year turned out to be the son of Kevin Donnelly's best friend. Donnelly kept a network of rats inside the police station, but this little rat was arrogant and sloppy, leaving crumbs for Aisha to follow.
She caught him in the IT department, using his godfather's name to get the scared worker to delete backed-up evidence files .
The kid spilled all he knew, and when they got a warrant to raid O'Malley's bar, it unleashed a flood.
Turns out, the police Captain and Kevin Donnelly are old neighborhood friends and business partners. The Boston Police Department is now a disaster zone—fingers pointing, accusations being thrown back and forth.
Aisha said there's a code in that city— you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.
Turns out that only goes so far when your ass is on the line.
The captain resigned in disgrace, and the lack of roadblocks allowed Aisha to power ahead with the investigation. The state police and FBI are now involved, and with the added resources and weight, things are moving.
The information Wyatt uncovered was passed along, and finally, they located Rick's apartment.
Multiple phones, a filing cabinet, a large safe—evidence the team couldn't yet share fully.
Still, Aisha told us they found something that needed to be explained face-to-face, prompting Ramirez's visit to our kitchen today.
"The good news is that Rick Fox is now a fugitive. His bank accounts are being monitored. He tries to buy a pack of gum, we'll have a location on him."
"And he'll be arrested?" Emerald asks. Ramirez's hard expression softens just a bit when he looks at her.
"Yes," Ramirez nods. "We have a mountain of evidence to bury him—wire transfers, encrypted emails, text messages, burner phones, multiple bank accounts. Conspiracy. Fraud. Referees and coaches who took bribes—not just in hockey. All of this goes back ten years. If he's caught, he'll die in prison."
Emerald and I share a hopeful grin, and my hand squeezes hers. Three times. Her smile widens, her eyes bright with the thought of an end to this. To Rick. To never have to hear his name ever again .
"And the bad news?" Ruby asks. Ramirez folds his hands on the table, thumb rubbing over his wedding band.
"He's smart. There are too many places for him to hide. The FBI lengthens our reach, but it's still a needle in a haystack until he appears."
The hope only dies a bit. It's not about him getting caught—it's about exposing him for the piece of shit he is. Others will finally see him truly. That's a victory in itself.
Still, the thought of him getting away frustrates me. Emerald brushes her other hand on mine, the soft touch so sweet that it settles me.
"I can't share that much," Ramirez says, his voice dropping. "But Aisha wanted me to show you this. We thought you deserved to know."
Ramirez looks at Emerald for a long moment before looking right in my eyes.
"Fox kept a lot of files on Emerald."
As soon as Ramirez speaks, my jaw locks and my body goes cold. I release Emerald’s hand, scrape her chair closer to mine, then wrap my arm tightly around her, trying to physically shield her from what he’s about to say.
While she leans her body into me, she lifts her chin and nods for Ramirez to continue.
Brave girl.
Ramirez keeps his voice soft. "He knew her schedule. Which away games she'd attend. Which appearances she'd be at with you. When she'd be out of the apartment. Even your grocery shopping schedule."
"That's how Britney was able to..." Emerald trails off, her mouth twisting.
"Violate our home," I rasp.
"Exactly," Ramirez nods. "Even knew the amount of time you'd be out."
Emerald frowns, her body shuddering against mine.
Ramirez hesitates, "And he was very aware of the harassment online. He was fanning the flames against her on your social media and using it."
"Why?" I explode. "What benefit could come from hurting my wife? "
"Who grounds you, Hayden?" Ruby asks, her tone sharp.
My body deflates. "Emerald," I murmur.
"When you're not with Emerald, how do you feel?"
"Unsteady. Unsure. Weak," I admit through a tight throat.
Emerald lays a hand on my leg and squeezes. I'm here.
"So, if she was out of the picture?" Ramirez leads, my eyes falling shut. I don't need to answer. Everyone in this damn room knows how I am without Emerald.
Half-feral, no logic left.
"The best way to control someone is to isolate them." Ramirez shrugs. "Cult leader 101."
I raise an eyebrow, "And Britney?"
"In his emails with her, he had a hard time conceptualizing that you would actually want to remain loyal to your wife. He gave Britney the code to your apartment to stage the affair. He thought it would force Emerald's hand to divorce you."
Nausea rolls in my gut at the thought of Emerald divorcing me. Like she's sharing the same thought, my wife burrows deeper into me, and I press a kiss to her hair.
To him, Britney was a useful idiot. Spoiled, unstable, and terrified of losing her father's money unless she did something useful. She set her sights on marrying Hayden and being a trophy wife."
"Goddamn Annie Wilkes," Ruby mutters into her cup .
"This is the part where it gets... dark." Ramirez leans forward. "There was one file name we were confused with—until we cracked it open."
Ramirez looks right in my eyes.
"Hayden, it was labeled The Widower Contingency. "
My heart stops, my mind latching onto the word widower.
Emerald's breath hitches, and Ruby goes still in the doorway.
And Ramirez looks absolutely disgusted.
"Interview strategy. Wardrobe. Social media drafts. If Emerald left and divorced Hayden or if she killed herself—"
I flinch—the words land like a fist. Emerald gasps, and all I want is to grab her and run, hide her from all of this. Protecting her hasn't been enough, but leaving her in the dark isn't fair. Each of Ramirez's words makes my stomach churn hotter with rage and dread.
"—or if a fan attack turned fatal. Didn't matter. The plan was all the same. How to market Hayden Sawyer as single... or grieving."
The words don't hit me at first; all I can focus on is that Emerald has tensed in my arms, her breath catching and coming in jagged bursts.
She turns her head toward me, teary-eyed.
My hand cradles her cheek as I brush away the tears that slip down.
Leaning in, I kiss the new tears on her other cheek.
"Emerald," I murmur. "Breathe, baby..."
Chest to chest, I press her firmly to me and coach her breathing until it evens out.
I can feel Ramirez's eyes on me like I'm a bomb that's going to explode at any second.
Ruby is the one who explodes.
"He wanted to profit off my sister's death?" Ruby's voice slices through the silence, restoring the world .
Noise. It grows and grows until it becomes too much—Ramirez's soft response to Ruby doesn't make sense, his words distorted and meshing together into gibberish. The words hit my mind, finally making sense.
My heart slams in my chest. I can't breathe.
I close my eyes, but all I see is Emerald in the snow.
Bleeding. Broken. Near dead.
I feel the cold biting through my jersey.
How close I actually came to being a widower.
There's an odd sound, and I look around for the source of it.
"Hayden..." she whispers, wrecked.
And just her voice, her saying my name, jolts me back to earth.
Because this isn't just about me.
This is about Emerald.
I lift Emerald onto my lap, my arms holding her tightly as she trembles. Her quick breaths warm my neck, and I gently rock her back and forth. The phrase widower contingency sticks in my mind. I picture Rick smirking as he typed it, making the words feel even more twisted.
"At least this will take attention off the loss tonight."
Emerald was just collateral damage to him.
To me, she's everything.
"Baby," I murmur into her hair.
Ramirez senses that we need a minute and stands from the table.
He walks outside the sliding glass door leading to our deck, and Ruby walks over to press a kiss to Emerald's head, meeting my eyes once.
Her blue eyes are burning with rage, but she takes a deep breath and mutters about needing a cigarette as she grabs her purse and walks out after Ramirez.
Emerald's still shaking. Her hands are at the back of my head, running through my hair, pulling me to her like I can't get close enough. And I'm doing the same, my arm covering her entire back, my hand tangled in her hair.
"I'm so sorry," I mutter, my eye stinging. "I'm so fucking sorry, Em. I'm so sorry I brought this man into our lives."
She shakes her head, pulling back to meet my eyes. Her hand cups my face, gently shaking me.
"I'm alive. I'm still here," she murmurs back, comforting me as much as I'm comforting her.
The rage hums under my skin, demanding I find Rick, tear him apart myself.
But what would that accomplish?
My wife needs me here.
And I need her.