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Ican't tell Ryan. I just can't. This will be another thing to add to the collection of secrets I seem to be accumulating and keeping from him.
When we enter the visitor's locker room, the team is euphoric. The Northmen are moving on to round two against Columbus. The team battled the lion in its den and won. The snake is officially off Toronto's ass.
I'm not willing to be a buzzkill and tell Ryan about Randy's text. There is nothing he can do about it anyway. He would become angry, overprotective, and distracted from what he needs to concentrate on: winning the Stanley Cup.
By the time we touchdown in Toronto, Darby's replaced the locks again. Payton's already come and gone. She reviewed the security tape and scanned our apartment, looking for anything else out of place. Her search came up negative.
The only thing Payton was able to find was the rose, which she bagged and tagged as evidence. A man dressed in all black, matching Randy's size and height, was picked up on the new cameras installed this week. So basically, we still have nothing but conjecture and hunches.
I go to bed hoping this is all some bad dream, and tomorrow Randy and all his fucked up plots and problems will be a thing of the past.
??????
Ryan and Luke leave early for the rink. The team has a light skate today, and then they're spending the rest of the afternoon reviewing game tape and doing their due diligence on the Columbus Crush.
Holly and I are taking the day off to relax and prepare for another round of playoff hockey.
As soon as Ryan is out the door, I get up and go to the hardware store with Colton, hoping to be back before Holly wakes up. No such luck. When I creep back into the condo, she's waiting for me at the kitchen table with two teas ready and a look of suspicion plastered on her face.
"So," she starts, narrowing her eyes, "are you going to tell me what the hell is going on and why you have a bag full of security locks for our front door?"
There is no way around telling Holly. She's my best friend, and she's going to see me going all HGTV on our door with all my fancy new locks.
"Randy was here," I confess. "While we were gone, he broke into our apartment, undetected yet again."
"How do you know for sure? Was he caught on camera? Did he do any damage? Why didn't someone tell me?"
"One question at a time, please. No, he didn't do any damage, and you weren't told because I asked Darby for some discretion. I don't want Luke or Ryan to know."
"Okay," Holly draws out. "Explain what's going on in that head of yours."
I share the information I have and everything Payton told me, which isn't much. When I show Holly the picture, her eyes bug out of her head.
"That's creepy as fuck!"
"I know, which is why I don't want anyone else to know about it. Luke and Ryan will go all macho and now's not the time. They need to focus on hockey."
"I don't know, Avery. I think this is something Ryan would want to know."
"He maywantto know, but he doesn'tneedto know. Yet. He needs to keep his head in the game." It's true, and Holly knows it. The guys should have all their attention on winning hockey games. I don't want to be another distraction for the team.
"Plus, I have Colton around twenty-four-seven. Payton is trying to find Randy, and half of the Toronto Police Department is looking for him. Telling Ryan will only add extra stress that he doesn't need."
Albeit hesitantly, Holly agrees, and I force Colton to help us hammer and screw a few extra safety locks and door stoppers into place.
Naturally, when the boys get home, the first things they see are the added security features that make the entrance to the apartment look like a bank vault. Ryan immediately suspects something foul is afoot, and I throw Colton under the bus saying the locks were all his idea.
"It's Colton's job to make security suggestions," I fib. "I asked him if he thought the new lock was secure, and he gave me some simple suggestions for added protection." I hate lying, but I don't want Ryan to worry or do something stupid and attempt some vigilante shit.
Ryan stares into my eyes for a long second as if trying to catch me in a lie, but thankfully he lets it go. Instead, he inspects the door's new hardware to ensure it's installed properly, which is slightly ludicrous because Ryan is not a handyman and is more likely to break something than fix it.
"How was the meeting?" I ask, deliberately changing the subject.
"Good," Luke answers for Ryan. "We're going to slaughter Columbus."
"I still can't believe they swept Tampa," Holly says. "The Blaze were the best team in the league by leaps and bounds."
"Hey," Luke chides, clutching his chest like Holly's words physically hurt.
