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Tell Ash about what?
“Nah.” Taking a swig of water from his red and black bottle, Colt shakes his head. “The asshole didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“You sure?” Theo takes off his helmet, his wavy blonde hair clinging to his forehead as he scrubs his hand over his face. “If what he said is true––”
“It’s not,” Colt snaps. “Can’t be.”
“But if it is––”
“Let it go, man. I’m not gonna stir shit up with Ash because some asshole was trying to get in my head during a game, and you shouldn’t, either,” he warns. With his elbows on his knees, he hangs his head and adds, “It was all bullshit.”
Theo doesn’t answer him. He just stares at Colt, eventually muttering, “Yeah, man. You’re probably right. A bunch of bullshit.”
I have no idea what they’re talking about. Clearly, it’s none of my business, and they obviously have no idea I’ve overheard their conversation.
Before they have a chance to spot me, I tiptoe back into the tunnel, unsure where to go or what to do. I don’t want to run into anyone because I most definitely shouldn’t be down here. Especially without Macklin. But if I head into the stands, I’ll have to pass Theo and Colt.
Thanks, but no thanks.
A broom closet is off to one side. I jiggle the door handle, finding it unlocked. Releasing a sigh of relief, I slip inside and close the door behind me with a quiet click. Twenty to thirty minutes should be enough time for everyone to shower. I'll wait here for a while, head back into the tunnel, and text someone to pick me up. Mia’s definitely working, but maybe Ash or Blake are free? One thing’s for sure. I won't be asking Theo or Colt for a ride. Not after overhearing that little tidbit. I’d rather walk home.
With my back pressed against the closed door, I slide down onto my ass and pull my knees to my chest.
Yup. This is definitely not how I anticipated my evening ending.
Then again, I could’ve always wound up having a seizure or something, so…
Hello, bright side.
29
MACKLIN
The air is cold as I walk back to my car in the hospital’s parking lot. I hit the remote start on my key fob so the engine can begin heating up. Depp’s wrist definitely needed an x-ray, so Felix and I drove him here in the ambulance, despite his protests. Now, the sun has set, and the winter chill hangs in the air, my breath swirling in the night sky as I climb into my car, anxious to call Kate. When my phone rings, I dig it out of my pocket and press it to my ear.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, it’s Russ.”
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask.
“How’s Depp?”
“He’ll be fine. Told the doctor to forward you the x-rays.”
“Thanks.”
A weighted silence follows, and I frown. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he rushes out. “Had an interesting conversation after you left.”
I stay quiet as I start the vehicle and the call switches to Bluetooth. The air is still frigid as it comes out of the vents, and I anxiously wait for it to warm up. When Russ doesn’t continue, I prod, “With who?”
“Henry Buchanan. You know him?”
“I knowofhim,” I clarify dryly. The guy’s a billionaire and has been featured inForbesmagazine on more than one occasion. It’d be more strange if Ididn’tknow of him.
“Yeah, well, he wants to meet with you,” Russ tells me.
