28. TATE
TATE
So, I did something. It was precautionary, and if anyone expects me to be sorry, they shouldn’t hold their breath.
Because look, I was right to be cautious.
I was crazy after the Kline thing, and him not having cell service that one time, and the possibility of them taking his phone was too high—which I was right about.
While he slept peacefully in my office after meeting Pearl, I injected him with a GPS tracking chip I got from one of my shady connections in the Marines.
Mm-hmm. Ryan and Pearl. My dick has the audacity to throb, yes, at a time like this. Times like this, when the adrenaline is racing through me, get me the hardest, especially when I’m thinking of Ryan.
But anyway, I’ve been using the one I attached to his phone until I could properly get him used to the idea. It kind of lies dormant until I activate the tracking software, and then the chip transmits a location. I even have a handy little app my tech guy coded and installed on my phone.
Cute.
After typing in the activation code, I wait in the hallway a little way down from the North Point dressing room, just in case Ryan or Coach Bruce come back this way.
It takes thirty fucking minutes, which I was not expecting.
This is supposed to be top-of-the-line, Marine-issue technology.
But, eureka, there’s a red dot. What the …
someone’s already taken him off-campus. I need to move on this.
I got here on the team bus, though, so I don’t have a car.
I could call someone to bring me one, but taking Luke’s is the fastest option.
A small pang of guilt pulses in my stomach.
Soon, Luke will know what I am. He’ll know I’ve lied to him every day since I made my pact with Uncle Jasper.
He’ll know his sacrifice was for nothing.
And here I am still asking him for favors.
But I can’t worry about that right now. It looks like they’re heading onto the highway, and I don’t know what the fuck they’re going to do to him. They could have already done something. That’s enough to make me fucking crazy.
Luke’s probably still busy with Ace, so I head toward the Shadowridge locker room. There are kissing sounds. I clear my throat.
“Oh, um, Tate. Sorry,” Luke says.
McKinnon holds up his hand, his swollen, bruised face, smiling. “We got engaged, Coach. Now you and me are totally going to be family for real.”
“How will I contain my excitement?” I deadpan. “Luke, Ryan’s missing. I need your car.”
Luke shows his teeth. “Yes, please find Ryan for me. I need to speak with him.”
“Speak with him” is code for punch his face in. “No. If I don’t get to touch McKinnon, you don’t get to touch my husband.”
“Hey, I’m right here,” McKinnon complains.
“It’s kind of time sensitive,” I stress, ignoring McKinnon’s bitching.
“Yeah, sure,” he says, reaching into his jeans pocket.
“Luke says I’m fine, and that I totally don’t have a concussion,” McKinnon says.
“I did not say that.” Luke was a paramedic for several years.
He pats his jeans pockets, coming up with nothing.
He checks the pockets of the black and white, silver-lined Scorpions jacket Ace is wearing.
Drowning in, actually. Gotta be the jacket I gave my brother.
“Shit, I think they fell out when I was catapulting over the seats to get to Ace.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” McKinnon says.
It’s annoying and inconvenient for me. My teeth grind.
“Shae or East probably picked them up for me,” Luke says. He was sitting with Ace’s dad and his dad’s boyfriend. “They’re probably waiting up front for us.”
Ace moves to jump off the padded training table. Luke puts out a hand to stop him.
“No, you stay here. I’ll bring a wheelchair back with me to wheel you out, because you might have a concussion.”
“Luke,” Ace complains. “Even if I did have a concussion, which I don’t, I wouldn’t need a wheelchair. Totally overboard.”
“Stay, McKinnon,” he says.
Ace huffs. But when Luke leaves, I’m alone with him. I check my phone again, watching the red dot, ready to break something, irritation rising. Someone’s making off with Ryan, my husband, and I’m stranded here with McKinnon. How did this happen?
“You okay, Coach? You look, uh, rabid.”
“No, I’m not okay,” I snap. I glare at my phone, unable to stop watching the dot continue down the highway. Where are they going? Who has him? It’s got to be fucking Henry and Clarence. They’re dead. I fantasize about how I’ll torture them before I kill them to pass the time.
A hand reaches for my phone, and I tear it away with a growl.
“Whoa, Coach. You were gonna break that. But I’d like to keep my hand, so you’re on your own next time,” he mutters. “Wow, you’re really worried. Is he in trouble?”
McKinnon’s brows squeeze together as if doing the math in his head. Yeah, I’m not being cool about this, and I’m giving myself away, but I don’t even give a fuck right now. I need a car, and I need to get to Ryan.
What’s taking Luke so long?
Ignoring McKinnon, I try to decide if texting Ethan or Jane is a good idea. I may have to kill someone or a few someones. It’s not wise to have evidence on my phone. I might have to do this alone. Without Pearl, too. She may never forgive me. She’s grown very attached to Ryan.
“Luke said something to me the other night. I didn’t think much of it, but now—”
“Are you still talking, McKinnon?”
“Yes, asshole, I am.” He winces when I glare murder at him, but he doesn’t back down. “Luke’s been saying he thinks he doesn’t know you—really know you. I thought maybe you two had a fight or something, and he was speaking philosophically, but maybe he meant it literally.”
Looks like I haven’t been so good at hiding myself this term.
“Where were you supposed to meet up with your dad, McKinnon? I can’t wait any longer.”
“C’mon, I’ll lead you to him, but you have to tell me congratulations.”
Luke will be pissed that he moved, but the further away that dot gets, the more my desperation ratchets. Not a good position to be in. I need to calm down.
“I don’t have the time for—”
He crosses his arms, the skin of his swollen cheek looking like it’s about to burst.
“Congratulations, McKinnon. Or should I be calling you VanCourt?”
“Hmmm, now there’s a pickle to—”
“Move.”
“Alright, alright.”
He’s unsteady, maybe he shouldn’t be moving around, but he leads the way.
We walk all the way up, through the dark halls of North Point, past the grand stone arches, and to the parking lot.
I recognize Shae McKinnon, but not the man he’s standing with, the one who’s nattering at him. Who I don’t see is Luke.
“You need to sit,” he says. “Your leg.”
Shae’s on crutches. “I’ll sit when I see my son.”
“Hi, Dad.” McKinnon waves.
“Fucking hell, you scared me, kid. C’mere.”
They embrace. I can barely contain my impatience, so I clear my throat.
“Right. Was Luke here?”
Shae frowns. “We haven’t seen him. But we have his car keys. They fell out of his pocket when he came to get you.”
Ace rounds on me. “Okay, what’s going on? First, Ryan, now Luke?”
“McKinnon,” I warn. I don’t want fucking Shae McKinnon involved in this.
He’s far too pure for this one. But he’s not the only one concerned about Luke.
My skin’s prickling, and I don’t like the cloak of impending doom that’s falling.
That’s it. After this, I’m chipping Luke, too, and anyone else I deem needs chipping. “I’ll take those.”
I move to snatch the keys from Shae, but Ace is closer. “I’m coming with you.”
“No way in hell that’s happening.”
“What’s going on?” Shae asks, looking between Ace and me.
“Oh, just—”
“Okay, McKinnon.”
Conniving little brat.
Telling Ace some of what was going on didn’t deter him, and he refused to leave, even though he’s so not dressed for a reconnaissance mission.
He’s removed his hockey pads, but he’s still in his long johns and jersey, smelling like the inside of a hockey bag.
I have to drive with the windows down. Under any other circumstances, I would have knocked him out and left him where someone would find him, but he might have a concussion, and I don’t know what knocking him out with a concussion would do to him.
If anything, I now have the responsibility of looking after him along with whatever awaits me wherever we’re going.
Now I hope Henry and Clarence also somehow took Luke, too, or I’ve got McKinnon here for nothing.
Either way, Luke is going to kill me. I’m headed into danger with no backup, no weapons, and no plan.
The chances I’ll be able to keep enough of an eye out for McKinnon while I’m collecting Ryan are low.
But it’s one hundred percent his fault for being a fucking brat and coercing me into this.
If he dies, that’s Darwinism at work.
McKinnon tries to fiddle with the music. “Road trip!” he crows.
I bat his hand away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Tryna lighten the mood, Coach. I’m nervous.”
“I can’t listen to music right now.”
“Okay, well, can we at least play twenty questions?”
He takes my silence to mean yes, firing too many questions at me. I alternate between ignoring him and telling him to, “Shut the fuck up, McKinnon.”
I have to watch the dot on my phone while driving at speeds that will get me pulled over, swerving in and out of traffic.
“Shit,” I mutter out loud.
“He speaks,” McKinnon says from where he’s pouting in the passenger seat.
“I know where they’re going. Finally, a little bit of luck.”
“Y’know, Coach. Some people say I’m a lucky charm. Bet it was because of me. You’re welcome.”
I would argue that, but it’s McKinnon, so it’s probably true. “Hang on.” I step on the gas.