Page 119 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“I'm staying too,” Penelope added, already pulling out her tablet. “Someone needs to coordinate this properly, and nooffense, but athletes are better at executing a plan than planning the plan.”
“Offensive but accurate,” Flynn admitted.
Gryff and Flynn got ready to leave for practice, both tense about having to face Sloane.
“She's going to be there filming like nothing happened,” Gryff had said, jaw clenched.
“You have to act normal,” I'd reminded him. “We can't tip her off that we're organizing.”
“Flynn's going to punch her.”
“Flynn's going to be perfect,” I said firmly. “Because he knows what's at stake.”
By noon, the house felt eerily quiet with just me, Penelope, and Bridger.
My phone buzzed with texts from Gryff throughout the afternoon.
GRYFF
She's here. Acting like nothing happened.
She asked about Edinburgh. I almost threw up.
Flynn just told her to go film someone else. Coach made him run laps.
Harry looks uncomfortable. Keeps avoiding eye contact with her.
Meanwhile, Bridger was working his coaching network from our dining table, his phone constantly at his ear.
“Tom? Yeah, it's Bridge. Listen, I need a favor. You remember that linebacker you coached at Oregon State that got drafted to the Bruins? I need his number. It's important.”
Penelope had transformed our living room into a command center, laptop open, multiple spreadsheets running.
“Okay,” she said, “we have seven confirmed players being threatened. Gryff knows three personally. Bridger's got connections to two more. That leaves two we need to reach.”
By the time Gryff and Flynn returned from practice, we had contact information for six of the seven players.
“How was it?” I asked.
“Brutal,” Flynn said. “She kept trying to get reaction shots. Asked about why our family was in town. I hate that she somehow knew that. We’re going to have to be very careful.
Gryff collapsed on the couch. Holly immediately claimed his lap, still punishing him for leaving her all day. “DeMarcus kept running interference, distracting Sloane whenever she got too close.”
“He's a good captain,” Flynn said. “Protects his rookies.”
“Harry definitely knows something,” Gryff added. “He wouldn't look at Sloane, and he kept apologizing to me. Just randomly saying sorry when she wasn't around.”
“You think he'd help us?” I asked.
“Maybe. He seems like a decent guy who got caught up in something he didn't sign up for.”
Gryff's phone buzzed with another text from one of the threatened players. He'd been fielding messages all day, even during practice.
“Tyler from the Chefs,” he said, reading. “He wants to know if we're sure this will work.”
“What are you telling them?”
“The truth. That I don't know but doing nothing definitely won't work.”
