“No.”
He blinks. Just once. I don't think anyone at this organization has told Tim Callahan no in a decade.
“Son—”
“I'm not going home.”
He presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
“Your father and I are going to sort this out. You are a minor on a roster contract, Theo. You're going home tonight and nothing further happens until the morning. Do you understand me?”
“I'm twenty. I'm not a minor.”
He holds my gaze. “You are twenty. You are on this team because I took a personal risk on your father's recommendation. You are going home tonight or I am calling your contract dead by morning. I would rather not do that. Do you understand me?”
My mouth is dry.
“Where is he?”
“He'll be escorted off the property.”
My throat closes.
“Where is he?”
“Theo.”
The office door opens again. Two uniformed security guys, the standard rink staff, men I have nodded at a thousand times,come out with Maddox between them. Not dragging him. Not yet. But each of them has a hand on one of his arms and Maddox is letting them, and I know he is letting them because if he were not letting them, both of those men would be on the floor.
He sees me.
His eyes go to my face and stay there.
“Hey,” he says.
My body comes off the wall.
“Maddox…”
“I'm okay.”
The blood reaches his jaw.
“Where are they taking you?”
“Out.” He doesn't break his gaze. He's walking backward, letting the guards steer him, because he refuses to turn away from me. “Listen to me. I'll find you. Do you understand? I will find you. Don't do anything tonight. Don't sign anything. Don't say anything to him. Just go home, go to your room, lock the door, andwait.I will find you.”
My hand comes up and doesn't know where to go.
“How?”
“I don't know yet. I'll figure it out. Wait for me.”
The corridor stretches longer between us with every step.
One of the guards squeezes his arm, not unkindly. “Sir.”
Maddox doesn't look at the guard. “I'm coming. Theo.Wait for me.”
