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A hint of wariness entered his gaze. “I don’t wear a Loft helmet.”
“I know. But a lot of your teammates do. And you do wear some of their padding. And they’re not such a great company, but that’s kept low-key because of their money.”
“That’s an open secret. So what?”
My hands curled into fists. “So I’m mad, Abraham. I’m mad you’re playing a dangerous game without the best possible defenses. And my boss asked me to write a story.”
He closed him eyes briefly, before fixing me with an intense gaze. “ “Tell me it’s not going to be that bad.”
“I can tell you it’s factual.” I handed him a sheaf of paper.
He stared down at it. “When are you guys publishing this?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. Soon.”
“There will be fallout.”
I tried to smile. “Tanya lives for fallout.”
“For you, I mean.”
“Read it and let me know wha
t you think.” I couldn’t bear to sit there and watch him read, so I stood up abruptly. “I’m going to head out, but you’ll be discharged in the morning? I’ll come and see you before heading to work.”
He nodded, and I went over to kiss him. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.
Maybe if I kept saying that I’d actually believe it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
My roommates left early the next day, so I had the apartment to myself for the morning before I headed over to the hospital. When the buzzer sounded, I was so surprised I almost ignored it, expecting a neighbor who’d locked themselves out. “Hello?”
“It’s me.”
Abraham’s voice was curt and unexpected. “Oh. Okay. Hi.” I buzzed him in. When I opened the door, he swept past me and into the living room. I followed, confused. “Are you okay? You were discharged? Why did you come here—why didn’t you call me?”
He slapped the papers down on the table. “This is bad.”
I winced. “Ah.”
His brows had drawn together and his expression had darkened into a heavy storm. “You told me it was factual.”
“It is.”
“Fact is that this happens in every goddamn team in the League—”
Outrage at Gregory Philip surged all over again, and made my voice hoarse. “They’re using unsafe equipment! You can’t want to protect them.”
“They’re my team.”
“These are your lives.”
“And what about your life?”
“What?” I stared at him, utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”
He waved an arm explosively. “I’m talking about this article. Damn it, Tamar! What are you trying to do?”
