Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
The best part?
She was happy.
Relaxed.
And damn if that doesn’t do something to me.
I toss my bag into my stall and stretch my arms overhead. “Morning,” I say, uncapping my water bottle.
“Hey, Cap.” Jax gives me a chin lift in greeting.
“What’s up, Cap?” Oliver says.
A few of the guys greet me as I make my way through the locker room, but something’s off in their tone and the way they stare before glancing away.
With a frown, I slow my steps.
Knox looks up from lacing his skates, his jaw working like he’s chewing on something he doesn’t want to say.
“Don’t worry about it,” he mutters, eyes avoiding mine. “It’ll blow over.”
My brows pull together. “What, exactly, will blow over?”
Before anyone can answer, the locker room door opens and Coach steps in.
“Sanderson,” he calls out, his tone clipped. “Landry wants to see you in his office.”
I freeze. That’s all it takes for the warmth from earlier this morning to fade.
The owner of the team wants to see me?
Well, shit.
That’s never a good sign.
My mind starts to spin.
Did I miss something?
Blow off an appearance?
Screw up a PR commitment?
No one’s offering any answers, and a low buzz of unease starts working its way through me.
I give him a curt nod and follow him out. By the time I reach Hugh Landry’s office, the smile I came in with is long gone. I can barely remember what it felt like. Once at his door, I rap my knuckles on the thick wood.
“It’s open,” he calls out.
As soon as I step inside, I realize he’s not the only one in the room. Evelyn is seated near the window, her expression solemn, and Rina is standing next to her. The spark that usually fills her eyes along with her fiery disposition is nowhere to be found.
Fuck.
Whatever is going on is even worse than I imagined.
Hugh is seated behind his desk with his hands clasped like he’s prepping for battle.
My stomach knots. “What’s up?” I ask, lowering myself into the chair across from him.
No one says a word at first.
Rina avoids my gaze, just like some of the guys in the locker room.
Hugh shifts slightly, the movement enough to draw my attention back to him. “Just know that this situation is uncomfortable for everyone.”
“What situation? Someone needs to tell me what’s going on,” I demand.
Rina pulls out her phone, hesitating for a second before finally handing it over.
I take it.
The screen lights up with the Railers Rumors site.
There’s a photo.
Grainy but clear enough.
It’s of me.
I’m standing behind Lilah at Gold Coast Table.
And my hand is wrapped around her throat.
It looks wrong.
Really fucking wrong.
Rage and disbelief crash into me all at once.
“What the fuck,” I mutter. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
I look up, meeting Hugh’s eyes before glancing at Evelyn and Rina. “Both of you know that Lilah is my best friend.”
Evelyn arches a brow. “From the looks of it, she’s way more than that.”
My face heats. “She is,” I admit. “But I wasn’t hurting her. It was a private moment. Something intimate that’s been twisted.”
“You’re a public figure, Steele,” Hugh says. “Perception is everything. That photo, stripped of context, paints you as aggressive, even abusive.”
I grit my teeth and cross my arms. “My private life is my business. Not theirs.”
“You know how this works,” Rina says quietly. “You’ve been in the league long enough to understand that people love to fill in the blanks. And right now, the narrative they’re building is getting ugly."
I shake my head as frustration bubbles up inside me. “What am I supposed to do? Let the media paint me as a fucking monster? I didn’t hurt her. I would never hurt her.”
“We know that,” Evelyn says gently. “But the world doesn’t.”
Hugh leans forward. “We need to do some damage control before this mess gains more traction.”
“It might help if Lilah addressed it,” Rina says with a sigh.
My gaze snaps to her. “Absolutely not.”
She tries again. “Steele—”
“No.” My jaw tightens. “I’m not dragging her into this any more than she already is. This isn’t her mess to clean up.”
Evelyn’s gaze holds steady. “But right now, she’s the only one who can shape the narrative.”
My fists clench as a thousand images of Lilah flash through my mind. Her face when she sees that photo, the hurt in her eyes, the backlash she never asked for. The helplessness curdles into something sharp.
“I’ll handle it,” I say, pushing to my feet.
I don’t wait for any of them to argue. I’m already out the door, every step driven by one thought and one thought only.
I need to get to Lilah before this story does.
41
LILAH
The sky outside is a blanket of gray, heavy with clouds that haven’t quite committed to rain. Lake Michigan stretches out in front of me through Steele’s wall of windows, but even the water looks dull and colorless today. It matches the knot in my stomach. The tight, uncomfortable weight of dread that’s been sitting with me since I saw the photograph.