Arden freezes, slowly turning to look at her. Forker holds her hand tight enough that she can’t move too far if she tries. One slap was enough.
Arden meets Morgan’s eyes. Her voice is lethally calm. “You’re a terrible person.”
She says it so simply, but it seems to maim Morgan the most.
Arden’s eyes slide to Tom. “I think you should consider a trade or a divorce.”
She spins on her heel, storming down the hall with her boyfriend in tow. Fork and I offer Tom a look, signalling that we agree with both the spitfire and the blonde hellfire that just eviscerated his wife.
I linger, turning to look at them both—Morgan trembling and her husband working through the bomb that was just dropped on his head. Tom’s dark eyes snap to mine. I see his shame. His disappointment. I see how this kills him. I don’t know him as well as I do some of the other guys, but I know he’s not a bad person. He wouldn’t have asked for this. Wouldn’t have done this.
I take a few steps closer to him, smacking him on the shoulder. “We will not attend any event where she is present. The girls don’t want her to sit with them anymore. She is, from here on out, completely severed from the team. She goes public with anything else and Lemmy gets let loose.”
Tom’s jaw ticks. “I had no idea, Boss.”
“I believe you,” I say, “but this is done, man. There is no world where this team still exists with her around it. Tell me you get that, because nobody will hold that girl off the next time, and if your wife fucks with my boys again—you’re going to get the brunt of it. From me. From Fork. From Lowesy.”
Tom’s throat bobs, but he dips his chin. “Got it.”
I pat his shoulder, my eyes cutting straight to his blubbering wife. “Pull yourself together. You’re getting off easy.”
I walk into that coat room. Penny is shaking, crying her little heart out. Her face is buried in Declan’s collarbone, her fists clinging to his suit jacket.
Arden’s hand is on her back, trying to be there in any way she can.
It’s an adrenaline crash. It’s going to hurt before the relief comes.
“You kicked ass out there, Sweets,” Forker says quietly.
“Hell, you even scared me,” I say gruffly, parking my ass on the edge of the table.
Penny laughs through her sobs, which makes Declan smile. His eyes cut to me and Fork with a look of gratitude.
“Penelope Lowes, The Annihilator,” he jokes.
I tilt my head back and bark out a laugh.
Fork chuckles. “Luckzilla.”
Penny’s shoulders are shaking with laughter now, her face still buried in her husband's chest.
We can’t stop it if Morgan goes rogue, but we did what we had to do. We stuck up for our own. It doesn’t mean it stops hurting, but it does mean we did our best to make it right. That’s all we can do. Lemmy will do the rest.
I see the emotion in Declan’s eyes, though, even through the laughter. He kisses Penny’s head while shaking his own. This pain isn’t for them. It’s for their friends. It’s pain over things that Caulfield and Saltzy shouldn’t have to go through. It agony over a very unfair world, but more so, the toxic culture that’s bred into this particular sport that we all fell in love with, before we realized the awful truths that are often kept quiet.
“Sorry.”
We all whirl toward the door.
Arden positions herself in front of Penny so fast, I hadn’t seen her move.
Emma steps inside, Luka right behind her.
“Emma,” Arden warns, shaking her head.
“I know,” she says, raising her hand. She pulls a purse off her arm, eyes connecting with Penny’s. “I figured you wouldn’t want to come back inside. I just… I’m sorry.”
Fork’s the one who steps forward to take the bag.
