"That's putting it mildly," Cole muttered.
Mac's hands clenched. "Yeah, well, now the bastard's coming back. And—" He took a breath. "I think Rachel knows him. From Burlington. Personally."
Ellie's face went pale. "Oh no."
Mac pulled out his phone, bringing up the photo he'd found. "I found this online. That's Derek Matthews with Brad Reese, Rachel's ex, from last year. They were together. Friends, maybe. Matthews must have been consulting with Brad's team."
"Jesus," Cole breathed, looking at the photo.
"Rachel completely shut down when I mentioned Matthews last night. Wouldn't talk about him at all. And she's been distracted lately, checking her phone constantly, acting worried." Mac set his phone down. "She knows something about him. Something bad. And she won't tell me what."
Ellie stood up abruptly, her chair scraping. "Mac. If Derek Matthews was in Burlington when Rachel was there..." She paced to the window, her hands clenched into fists. "Based on what he tried with me, based on how he operates—"
"You think he hurt her," Mac said quietly, the words like lead in his mouth.
"I think it's possible." Ellie turned back to face him, her expression fierce. "And I think you need to prepare for that possibility."
"I don't know how to help her because she won't tell me what I'm up against," Mac said quietly.
Ellie's voice was steel. "Mac, I'll talk to her. Woman to woman. Sometimes it's easier to open up to another woman, especially about something traumatic. Let me see if I can get her to tell me what's going on."
"You don't have to."
"Yes, I do." Ellie looked at Cole, then back at Mac. "Rachel's my friend too now. And if Matthews is coming here with someagenda that involves hurting people I care about, you, Rachel, Cole, our team, then I want to know about it."
"We're not letting him near any of us again. I don't care how much influence he has in the hockey world."
"Agreed," Cole said firmly. "Last time he was here, we didn't know what he was capable of. This time we do."
"Thank you," Mac said.
Cole was still looking at the photo on Mac's phone, his brows knitted. "You know, if Matthews really was involved in something with Rachel, and he's coming here now... that's not a coincidence. He's got an agenda."
"That's what I'm worried about."
"Then we figure out what it is before he shows up," Cole said, his voice hard. "And we make damn sure he doesn't get what he wants."
Mac nodded. Whatever was coming, at least he wouldn't face it alone. And neither would Rachel.
21
Mac
Mac's phone rang while he was staring at his half-written best man speech. Jamie.
"Turn on the hockey channel. Now."
Mac grabbed the remote. Derek Matthews filled the screen; handsome, charismatic, that smile that probably charmed every room.
"...excited to be consulting with several teams in the Vermont region," Matthews was saying. "Small-market hockey has tremendous potential, but it needs proper oversight and professional standards."
The interviewer leaned forward. "There's been controversy around your comments about physical therapists in smaller leagues."
Matthews' smile didn't waver. "Player safety should always come first. I've seen it firsthand; relationships compromising judgment, corners being cut. It's unacceptable."
"You're referring to Cole Hansen's recovery with the Evergreen Cove Eagles?"
"The Eagles are a perfect example. Hansen's recovery was remarkable, but was it proper medical treatment or luck? Without proper oversight, we'll never know."
