Chapter 37
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
TROY
I’ve had my phone off since Alisa went into heat. As far as I’m concerned, I’m not working, everyone else can wait. We got home last night and I’m still trying to decide if I want to join the real world again as I have a late morning breakfast with my pack.
They, on the other hand, do have shit to do. Lyle is checking emails while we eat, while Silas reminds him of a dinner engagement he doesn’t know if they should attend.
“When is it again?” Lyle asks, frowning at something on his screen. His free hand is curled into a fist and a feeling of dread skitters over my spine.
“Tomorrow night. What’s wrong?” Silas asks in return.
“Have you checked your messages yet, Troy? I just got an email from your agent asking why you aren’t returning calls. It’s dated two days ago.”
“No, but Lora doesn’t typically reach out unless there’s a problem. Hang on. It’s upstairs.”
I leave the kitchen and jog to our room, urgency racing through my mind.
“It has to be something bad,” I mumble. Lora and Lyle have communicated in the past, but she wouldn’t reach out unless it was an emergency.
Fuck, why didn’t she just tell him what it was? My phone is in my shaking hand once I find it, and I power it back on, glaring at it as if it’ll fucking bite me. I don’t bother checking the voicemails and immediately press her contact name, listening as it rings on the speaker phone.
“Troy! Where the hell have you been?” she yells, making me wince. Fuck.
“I went out of town with my pack and then my omega went into heat,” I explain. “I didn’t listen to the messages. Where’s the fire?”
“Fuck.”
“That generally is how a heat works,” I drawl. “Come on, Lora. What’s going on?”
“Your dick. It’s everywhere, Troy,” she says, blowing out a breath.
I’ve been so happy, I completely forgot about my ex-wife.
“No. God, Ella is such a bitch.”
There’s no way there could be any other images other than hers.
“The owner of the Furies is reacting exactly how you’d expect, based on your team name,” she grumbles.
“Mr. Ancherson is calling for a termination of your contract, and I’m fighting him on it.
Ella sold this photo to anyone who would buy it from her, Troy.
The angle is done in a way that you can’t tell you’re asleep.
We know the act in the image is rape, but the news rags are saying this is a recent photo. ”
“So, what? I cheated on my pack and Alisa?” I ask, sitting down on the bed as I rub my chest. I already had one pack throw me away.
I don’t think I can handle another one doing this to me. I barely hear the footsteps pounding up the steps as I suck in a breath.
“It’s too late to ask for retractions, isn’t it?
” I ask, devastated. Those who release photos also control the narrative.
If Ella wanted to be anonymous when she sold these, nothing would have stopped her.
Alisa has been in the stands at hockey games in the past, her existence isn’t completely hidden.
Simply having a pack would be enough to set off the buzz of scumbags who only see my suffering as a paycheck.
“People have seen your dick, there’s no way to get people to forget that in the age of digital technology.”
“Excuse the fuck out of me?” Lyle growls. “Back it the fuck up and try that again.”
The urge to cry with helplessness hits me hard and I swallow hard as I glance up at my pack. Alisa pulls away from them to drop to her knees, wrap her arms around my leg, and lays her head on my thigh.
She’s not yelling at me, or accusing me of shit. My omega is simply silently comforting me. Digging my fingers into her sleep mussed hair I sigh heavily.
“Ella made her move. It’s the photo I’ve been worried about, but she spun it as if it’s a recent image.”
“Show me. Lora, can you send it to us?” Lyle asks, striding closer to me. “I can’t help with damage control if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.”
“It’s in one of the multiple texts I sent him.”
I let Alisa ground me as I click through to my text messages, finding the link almost immediately that Lora sent me.
Hockey player caught with his stick out.
“That’s cute,” I sigh, scrolling down to the image. “How they allow my cock on the internet is beyond me. It’s not even blurred out.”
Lyle steals the phone away from me, but the image is burned into my brain.
It looks as if Ella was sent multiple images from the night I was raped because it’s a very clear image of my cock as it enters a vagina.
The explicit photo makes my stomach pitch and roll with nausea, and I swallow hard to keep it at bay.
I slept with the lamp on that night because I was so exhausted, and I can see the hotel bedspread in the background.
It’s taken from an angle that doesn’t show much else, because I was passed out with duct tape all over me to keep me still. Alisa’s fingers dig into my leg through my joggers and a strangled sound escapes my lips.
“See what I mean? Lyle, the team owner wants to fire Troy for breaking his contract.”
“Yeah, I can see why. Behavior unbecoming a Fury, blah, blah,” Lyle growls.
“I want to go see him. I know I’m on his shit list and this is an easy way to fire me, but the team has been doing well since I’ve been here. He can’t fucking drop me. I’m not the only one with a tarnished image.”
“Yes. However, you get paid more than Klepton.”
“You got an in I don’t know about?” I ask. “I didn’t think his salary was public knowledge.”
“I’m his agent, Troy. I am also not telling you anything the rest of the world doesn’t suspect. You’re a more seasoned player, and you’re willing to strengthen your game. Not everyone else is.”
She’s right, but that’s what makes this so fucking dodgy. Mitch likes to make money, and we had great attendance at games this past season. I should be getting hyped to return for another year instead of dealing with this shit because my ex-wife is a cunt.
“I still want to see him,” I insist. “Would he be at the stadium?”
“He just did a press conference downtown. He and his niece have a shipping company together. Troy, the media asked about you, and he said this would be handled in house. I think you need to accept that this could be the end of your career.”
“People get away with worse,” Lyle grumbles. “The name of Mitch’s company is Waterson Logistics. His brother recently died and he’s been helping his niece. He doesn’t actually own it.”
“I wasn’t aware of that. Ancherson enjoys acting as if his niece needs him.”
“Nah. He’s been pushing a lot of money into the team. While I was going through my emails, I noticed a file that was sent to me with his financial details. He’s not bankrupt or anything, but he can’t afford for the team to fuck up.”
“Thanks, Ella,” I grunt. “Ugh, this woman is still trying to ruin my life!”
“Lyle, you’re a scary man,” Lora says. “I’m going to pretend we didn’t have most of this conversation. I do plan to vote for you for mayor, though. In case you’re wondering.”
While I’ve been traveling all over for work, Lora is actually from Savannah. She has to be well aware of some of the issues her city has been having.
“Thanks for the heads up, Lora.”
“Let me know what the slime bag has to say. If you still want to play, we’ll find you a team close to home.”
Lyle and I say goodbye to her and I shake my head in anger.
“Keep your phone on you, Troy. If you even think you need me, call, please. I will gladly rip him to fucking shreds,” Lyle says.
“I need to get dressed first,” I say dazed.
Alisa raises her head, and I notice tear streaks on her cheeks.
“Sweetheart, I’ll land on my feet. I always do. I also don’t want to do the long distance thing. I don’t care if the team is a couple of hours away, I want to be home with you all.”
“I hate her,” she sniffles. “Ella didn’t need to do this.”
“No, she didn’t,” Lyle growls. “Did I tell you she sold the house in Minnesota?”
“I think you mentioned it in passing,” I admit. “She loved that house, and it was paid for. I don’t know why she’d do that.”
“Greed,” he snorts. “She’s in the South now. It’s not as if we’re going to run into her or anything, but it’ll make it easier for us to make her disappear.”
“Sooner rather than later, please,” East grunts. “I want to cut her open and make her watch her intestines fall out.”
“I want to shave her head and watch it fall all around her. Can I make her ugly?” Alisa asks with fury in her beautiful eyes.
“Yes,” I decide. “I’m fucking done playing nice. Her pack has to be getting tired of her antics.”
“Undoubtedly. She’s been ugly on the inside for a long time,” Silas says. “Get going so you can be back as soon as possible.”
“I don’t like the idea of you going at all. Can I give you a stun gun?” Alisa asks.
“If it’ll make you feel better,” I say, standing. “You can give me anything you want, baby.”
To be honest, I simply need to give the bastard a piece of my mind. I’m on autopilot as I dress, and Alisa hands me a stun gun to slide into my pocket. They follow me downstairs as I grab my keys, and I kiss them all before I leave.
“I love you. I’ll call you on my way back,” I promise, opening the door wide.
“Whatever happens, let’s celebrate telling Mitch off,” Alisa says, her smile not touching her eyes. She’s worried, but I don’t think she needs to be.
He’s a businessman, despite his questionable tactics to lead the team.
“Decide how we’re going to celebrate,” I tell her, hustling down the stairs. However I go out, I want it to be on a high note. I didn’t do anything wrong, this is simply how it goes sometimes.
My trusty vehicle starts up on the first try and I force myself not to speed as I drive. My ears ring as I struggle with my agent’s call. I’m getting the shaft because my ex-wife is a greedy asshole.
My chest is heaving as I park, and I glance in the mirror only to find my eyes look wild and angry. I remind myself of a wild animal. I may appear put together in my jeans and t-shirt pulling across my muscles, but I’m not. Also, Alisa is right.
Jeans fucking suck.