Page 168 of Play Dirty

“I knew something was wrong,” Trees corrected. “Then I knew what it was.”

“And you didn’t—”

“I did,” he cut in. “I’m not your coach anymore, am I?”

His voice sharpened, just a notch. There was pain in it.

For some reason that took the edge off me.

“I went to management.”

That made me blink. Grayson didn’t react at all.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

Trees tightened his grip on the pint in front of him.

“What do you think happened?” he said. “They told me to drop it.”

“Just like that?” I snapped.

“No,” Trees said. “Not just like that.”

He leaned forward, mirroring me.

“First they questioned it,” he said. “Then they downplayed it. Told me I was crazy. That I was seeing things that weren’t there.”

“Were you?”

“Hell no,” he said, heat breaking through. “Think I’d stick my neck out if I wasn’t sure?”

I glanced at his hand. The knuckles were white. Trees noticed too, so he let go of the glass and pushed it away.

“Eventually,” he went on, “they told me to stop digging.”

I tilted my head.

“And you didn’t.”

A smirk I hadn’t seen in months tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was like seeing an old friend again.

“When have I ever?”

I nodded solemnly.

“So what?” I asked. “They fired you for it?”

Coach Trees shook his head once. “Not officially.”

“Then what?”

His heavily-lidded eyes shifted between us.

“They were already looking for a reason,” he shrugged. “I gave them one.”

“You pushed,” said Grayson.

“Yeah. I pushed.”