He took off the sunglasses he was wearing so people wouldn’t recognize him. Too bad I would recognize that build anywhere, any day.
“Cat? What are you doing here?” he asked, holding the door.
“Giving Dustin a surprise.”
He grinned. “Well, he’s lingering today for some reason. I think you’re good to head inside and say hello no problem. Wait, why didn’t you just go in through the regular door?”
“I’ve always been a girl who loves the back door,” I said, thinking fast. “Wait. Don’t take that literally. Or ... symbolically. Whatever.”
He laughed and held the door open, and I went in through the tunnel.
My heart beat rapidly as I made my way toward the locker room. I flashed a curt smile at a reporter who passed me, with a press pass, and he seemed to look right through me. Lucky for me, I was good at walking down hallways with a purpose, something doctors always did. Unlucky for me, I was wearing a Dustin LeBlanc jersey, so I really did look like a straight-up groupie. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel—literally—which I assumed was the team locker room.
However, a figure then came into view that made my bones chill.
It was Jackie Bells, and she had a smug smile on her face like usual. She wore a blue business suit and her heels clicked on the ground.
Her eyes locked on me as I tried to nonchalantly pass her with no luck.
“Excuse me, groupie girl,” she started. “Are you lost?”
Pangs of nervous anger flared through me as we both stopped walking and faced each other.
“Nope. Not lost. Just going to see my husband.”
She scoffed and put her hands on her hips. “Why are you coming through the back?”
“Because they wouldn’t let me come through the front.”
Damn,I thought.Should have used the back door girl line. Would have flustered her.
“Oh, that’s not surprising. I have you on the do not admit list. How did you get through the back?”
I scratched my forearm. “Why would I be on the do not admit list?”
“Look, I don’t have time to go into all the ins and outs of our locker room policy,” she said, flipping her hair. Then she let out this evil laugh, which gave me the wrong kind of goosebumps. “It’s good to know you won’t be a problem for long, though.”
My heart raced. “What does that mean?”
“Why don’t you ask Dustin?” she said, and another maniacal cackle escaped her, like a witch. “Yeah, ask Dustin! He’dloveto tell you.”
I heard her heels clicking as she laughed, walking away.
“Look on the bright side, Spain’s got a great climate, right? No hockey though, I hear. I guess you’ll have to find a soccer player!”
I turned and parted my lips to give her a retort, but nothing came out.
But as I got to the light at the end of the tunnel and turned the knob of the door to enter the men’s locker room, my gut told me this was really bad.
CHAPTER 29
DUSTIN
Psycho.
The Tigers organization was officially being run by a psychopath.
Jerry Bells, I hated to say it, was no longer in charge. He was a figurehead, but his granddaughter had him in the palm of her hand.
