Page 59 of Bad Wolf

“You betcha. And thank you for the wine and the talk.”

“Anytime, Wren. You know that.”

She shrugs on her coat, and I walk her to the door.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Yes. I’m leaving right this second. Gosh, Scott, bossy much?” I watch her chatter as she gets onto the elevator and then I close the apartment door.

I decide to leave the glasses until tomorrow, and after making sure the door is secure, I head for the bathroom. Ten minutes later, I’m wrapped in an old varsity sweatshirt of Knox’s and I’m dozing off when there’s another knock at the door.

Scurrying to find the light, I make my way back across the living space and undo the deadbolt, crack the door, and there stands Troy.

“Oh my God, it’s you. Is everything okay?”

His gaze narrows and he pushes me inside and locks the door.

“Did you just open this fucking door without looking to see who it was first?” he admonishes.

I gulp, “The last place I lived in didn’t have an intercom or peephole or a fucking deadbolt for that matter, so I’ve gotten out of the habit.”

“Well fucking learn to check before you open the goddamn door,” he rages.

“This place has video surveillance and security, I doubt anyone is gonna get past all that.” I roll my eyes and walk further into the apartment, “Troy, if you’re here to yell at me, just get it over with. I deserve it.”

“I want to know why.”

NowhimI really do need to give an answer to, but if it gets back to Knox before I have the chance to do it myself, all of this will have been pointless.

“Will you let me tell Knox myself when the time comes, or will you blab it all first?”

He crosses his thick forearms over his chest. Jesus, he is absolutely ripped.

“I’ll keep it to myself, but I just wanna know why you bailed on Knox. On both of us. He was a wreck. How could you have done that to him?”

All my rage falters when I realize he’s not just here for Knox, he’s here for himself too. I left him without so much as a goodbye, just something else that keeps me up at night. I blow out a breath, sit down, and let the whole sorry story fall out of my mouth.

“My dad has a gambling addiction. The day I left was the day I found out he had lost nine thousand dollars on the final game of the frozen four. His bookie had given him a few weeks to come up with the money and he wasn’t able to, so he was betting on baseball and underground fights, among other things, to cover his loss until the seasons picked back up again.”

I place my fingertips to my temples and rub. The massage does nothing to quell the throbbing in my head.

“By the time he could see the forest through the trees and had paid back his debt with interest, he was on their radar. He’d been gambling on D1 hockey games for an entire season. Dad had been tipped off that they wanted to up the ante and were starting to pursue players torecruitfor the new season. Knox’s season. But it was already over for me, because he’d been gambling on games Scott had actually played in—”

“They wanted to rig games, and to top it all off, it would have been Casey’s rookie NHL season. Fuck! You were protecting them.” He throws himself back on the couch.

“Now do you get it?”

He nods, his face solemn, “I get it.”

“What would you have done, if it was you?”

He puffs out his cheeks and leans back into the couch, “That’s a tough question. My gut says I’d have gone to Jack Senior. But that’s in hindsight, right? With all the facts and looking back at me at eighteen, I’d probably have panicked too. How did your dad get out of it all in the end?”

“I don’t know if he did or not, truthfully. I just needed to disassociate myself from you all. Hope he was a small fish in a bigger and badder pond.”

He nods and then appraises me, “You’re still wearing that.”

I look down at myself in Knox’s hoodie.

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