Page 80 of False Start
The less I want to do with this man, the more I somehow get involved with him, and it’s no longer an annoyance I can tolerate. I follow him when I realize he’s headed to the office.
But then I remember she’s in there. “It’s locked. Let’s just talk out here.”
“It’s fine,” he says, pulling a key out of his pocket.
“Where the fuck did you get that?” I block his arm from inserting the key into the hole.
“I found it when I had the crew clean out that room in the back.” Scott says it so casually, but the entire sentence gives me whiplash.
“Say that one more fucking time, because I swear I thought you just said you had a crew of people in the lockedapartmentin the back?” My nostrils are flared, I’m clenching my fists, and every part of me is holding myself from exploding in this man’s face.
“Someone left it open.” He shrugs. “And I need a bigger office than this to run the team properly.” He laughs in my face, like he hasn’t done something incredibly violating.
Like he didn’t steal a piece of Lonnie from all of us.
“This isn’t your fucking rink,” I remind him, my jaw practically clenched shut.
He sighs exhaustedly. “Cathrine, let’s stop pretending. My offer won’t last much longer.”
With my hand still forcibly keeping him from shoving the key into the lock, he simply reaches over with the other, turning the knob and pushing the door open. “Oh.” He laughs. “Look at that. Didn’t even need the key.”
What the fuck?
My heart sinks, my head immediately going to the worst possible place. Whatever Scott says next, I don’t hear. I’m skating out into the parking lot to see if I can find her. If she left on her own, she couldn’t be far. If she got a cab?
Fuck.
I try not to spiral, pushing the doors to go back inside.Get my shoes on and my keys and go find my girl before she makes a terrible decision.That’s all I can think of.
Scott grabs my bicep as I skate past him, and he pullsme back, throwing my balance off, but I’m quick enough to redirect the fall to my knees. I’m in panic mode, though, and anything he’s saying isn’t going to register until the noise in my brain quiets.
It won’t quiet until I see her.
The pull I feel is nearly magnetic, and when my head twists to the side to find her standing by the cubbies talking to Mo, the weight is lifted.
But only briefly.
The look on her face tells me I’ve already fucked up everything.
33
NIA
I’m restless, crawling out of my own fucking skin in that office and scratching the remainder of it to hell from the onsetting withdrawal. So I step out for a drink, and on my way to the water fountain, I stumble into Mo. Avoiding conversation isn’t possible, but they’re aware I’m sick and don’t seem suspicious.
“Is your wrist at least feeling better? Hopefully that cast comes off soon. We barely got to scrimmage before you got knocked out of commission.” Mo gives me an awkward side hug and ruffles my hair.
“Yeah, I’ll be stoked to get cleared for contact, but that probably won’t be for a couple more weeks. Scott will just have to suck it up.” I shrug.
“I mean, in the end it’s your call, now that you and Harvey are in love, and getting married, and having skate babies,” Mo says.
I laugh, confused. “What do you mean, my call?”
“I mean, in the end, it’s your rink, right? Or did you guys decide you were going to sell to Scott?” Theyfrown.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Morgan?” I’m so confused, I don’t know where the start or end to this conversation is.
“Harvey hasn’t told you.” A sinking realization splashes across their face.
