“I’d never release anything. Why would I want to embarrass her like that?”
“Cut the shit.”
“What can I say?” Dalton gestures toward a low-backed black chair across from his desk, but I’m not sitting. “I like holding all the cards.” He lays out his palms on the desk, facing upward. “In this hand, I have Sawyer’s reputation as the country’s good girl. And in this hand”—he flexes his other one—“is your career.”
“You don’t make or break my career,” I scoff.
“Don’t I? I’ve convinced almost everyone that a trade is in the team’s best interests. If Bellerive doesn’t make the playoffs, it’s basically a done deal. Oregon is looking particularly promising.” He smirks. “New conference, different conference teams. With you, that team could be in cup contention. They need another goal scorer, and they’ve got the cap room. A good move for you, professionally.”
He’s not wrong, and I hate that he’s right. Michigan is the only team I’dwantto be traded to, but as a career move, Oregon would be a great fit.
“With that trade, the chance you’d ever play in Bellerive again would be incredibly small. Even in a private jet that flight is—what?—twelve hours? In season, that would be an impossible trip, wouldn’t it?”
“I’m not sure why you’d even mention that. As my boss, my personal life is none of your concern.”
“Just an observation,” Dalton says with a light chuckle. “With you in Oregon, this country might be able to come to its senses again. Get behind players who are still in the game. Don’t you think?”
“She’s never coming back to you,” I say with confidence.
“The two of you have won over the public, I’ll give you that. Once you’re out of the picture, her options aren’t the same.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve got evidence of how much Sawyer wanted what I can give her. What onlyIcan give her. With a little time and space, she’s bound to understand that.”
I can’t help another scoff because I’m well aware of what hedidn’tgive her often enough. But then it clicks that he might be implying he’d blackmail Sawyer into getting back together.
“Whether I’m on or off the island,” I say, “you don’t fucking go near her.”
“Or what?” Dalton asks with another smirk.
My gut is sure there’s more to the story, but I don’t knowwhatthat is. If he could so easily blackmail her into another relationship, then he should have been able to keep her in it in the first place. We both know that his threats are a powerful motivation.
“You’re not the only one with things to share with the Bellerive public.” The confidence I inject into my voice has been learned by facing off against the toughest players in the league. You don’t flinch, or you’ve lost.
“You’ve got nothing.”
Histoneis a flinch though. The cocky expression has wavered, and while I might not knowwhatI have, I’ve hit a nerve.
“You really willing to bet on that?” I ask. “You think with all that Tucker money we wouldn’t have some evidence that contradicts yours? That proves the picture you’re trying to paint is distorted, tainted?”
“Whatever she’s told you is a lie. She’ll say anything to make herself look good for you.”
“You’re saying my own eyes have deceived me?”
“Is Celia involved in this?” He stares at me for a beat, clearly caught off guard. “No. No. Sawyer wouldn’t have gone to her mother.” Dalton’s cheeks are flushed, and he rises from his seat, hands splayed on his desk.
The notion that Sawyer’s mom is involved in this mess catchesmeoff guard. I’ve never met her, but I’ve definitely heard about her.
“These walls you think you’ve built around Sawyer are paper-thin,” I say, letting my anger creep in. “Wouldn’t take much for us to tear it apart and take your carefully constructed life down with it.”
“You’re bluffing,” Dalton says, the flushed cheeks replaced with a paleness that I wouldn’t have thought possible with his tanned skin.
“Am I?” I let out a caustic laugh. “From where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look like a bluff. It looks like the loss of your position on the Advisory Council. The loss of respect from all the rich people in Bellerive. I might not know much, but crossing a Tucker seems like a bad move—especially one as beloved as Sawyer.”
He straightens a little, and color returns to his cheeks. “She’s been feeding you lies, Logan. You haven’t had enough life experience yet to know when you’re being manipulated by a woman. I get that might be difficult for you to hear, but I’ve done nothing wrong. We had a loving, consensual relationship that I feel really strongly she’ll one day regret not having anymore. Iunderstand that would be hard for you to hear—that you’re just a rebound.”
His words are making my blood fucking boil, but I also realize that pieces of shit like him do this when they’re backed into a corner. Gaslight. Manipulate. Convince you that your version of reality is just that—a version—not even the right one.
