Page 137 of Bad Run

Cam grins. “Just tell that to Coach, and you’ll be fine.”

“Problem is, I didn’t tell Gwen.”

“It happens.”

“With you?”

“Me? Nah. Told Talia early. But my brothers?” He scoffs, nodding. “Yeah. Those dumb fucks held back, and it screwed them over. Luckily, it all worked out, so you’ll be fine.” He chuckles.

“That doesn’t inspire confidence.”

Cam smacks me on the back. “Too late now. Better get to it. We have a game tonight.”

I raise my hand to knock as Cam leans against the wall and taps something out on his phone. “What are you doing?”

He makes a face that screams duh. “Waiting. Gotta make sure you have backup, just in case.”

Backup?

I hope I don’t need backup.

Since I signed with the Evaders, I’ve never stepped a toe out of line. Until now. There is a possibility that what I tell Anson might piss him off so badly that his mustache will burst into flames.

“Thanks.”

Mustering up as much confidence as I can, I rap on the doorframe of my coach’s office.

“Come in,” Anson shouts.

As I open the door, Anson’s head pops up in surprise at my appearance.

“Hey, skip. Got a second?” I ask.

His shock morphs into suspicion as he leans back in his chair and narrows his eyes at me. The grizzled lines on his face deepen, and his left eyebrow twitches. Anson—who is in his late sixties, in excellent shape, and could easily kick my ass if he wanted to—stares me down.

Not flinching under his scrutinizing eye takes every ounce of control I’ve got, but I remain steady. On the outside.

Inside? My heart is pounding against my ribs like a gong.

Whatever Anson sees on my face makes him grumble under his breath. “Come in and close the door.”

I do as commanded, then take a seat in the uncomfortable old wooden chair across from him.

Anson cuts to the chase. “What did you do?”

Might as well match his energy. “I got married.”

“Congratulations. What does that have to do with me?”

A sheen of sweat breaks out on the back of my neck, and I stutter, “Well, uh, s-so my wife is linked to the team.”

“Linked? How so?”

Better to just rip off the band-aid.

“It’s Gwen, sir. I married Gwen. Ted’s daughter. And he doesn’t know.”

A thick, tension-filled silence falls over the room. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.