He pulls a business card from his wallet, looking defeated. “Okay, well, I’m new to the ski and snowboard scene, but I own a board shop in SoCal. Mostly surfboards and skateboards, but I’m expanding into snow sports. I’d love to have a conversation about sponsorships sometime, and maybe talk with some of your athletes if any are available for additional sponsorship.”
Some of our athletes? Or one in particular?I silently wonder.
“I think you probably need to talk to Grey Patterson about that,” I reply, taking the card from him. “I’ll see that he gets this.”
The man clenches his jaw before relaxing his features, but I saw it, the flash of anger he couldn’t mask.
“Please don’t bother Mr. Patterson. I’ve not had much luck with him in the past.”
“So, why reach out again?” I ask. Oddly, I don’t get the impression this man’s here to hurt Voxorask him for money.
His eyes shift to the side, clearly trying to decide how much to tell me and if I can be trusted. Finally, choosing a guarded version of the truth, he answers, “Mr. Patterson has something of mine. I’ve been trying to get it back for quite some time, but he refuses to even entertain a conversation about it.”
“And what would that be?” I press.
He pauses, shifting his full attention to me before saying, “My son.”
Leaning in close, I channel all my protective fury onto the man in front of me.
“Look, Mr. Montgomery.” The man doesn’t seem at all surprised that I know who he is. “Vox is doing just fine. In fact, he’s better than fine. Your being here could distract him to the point of getting killed. The Winter Classic will provide challenges that require his full attention. If you want what’s best for your son, you need to leave.” And because I’m mad that he’s interrupting Vox’s life, I add, “Just like you did the first time.”
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” he says emphatically. “Whatever Grey told you about me is probably a lie.” His eyes dart around nervously as if by mentioning him by name, Grey might appear. I suppose the paranoia isn’t completely unwarranted, though. Lord knows the man seems to have a sixth sense about things when it comes to Vox.
“It doesn’t matter what Grey told me. I know whatVoxtold me. He may pretend like he doesn’t care that you’re here, but?—”
“He knows I’m here?” the man asks, sounding hopeful.
I figure there’s no harm in telling him this part. “He overheard Grey telling me you’ve been sniffing around. Vox mayact like he doesn’t care about you, but you being here will only hurt him more, because I’m sure you don’t plan to stick around. And I’ll die before I let you hurt him again.”
“You obviously care about my son,” he deduces. Interestingly, there’s no judgment in his tone, and it’s because of that I continue, spilling a truth I haven’t even told Vox yet. As far as Vox knows, I’m on my way there, but in this moment, I know for certain I’ve already arrived.
“Careabout him?” I snarl, stepping closer. “I’min fucking lovewith him, and I’ll protect him from anyone and anything that tries to take him from me.”
Swallowing hard, the man totally glosses over the fact that I just basically outed his son to him and says, “Then keep both eyes on Grey Patterson. Because that’s who took him fromme,and he won’t hesitate to rip Vox away from you, too.” It’s hard not to believe there’s at least a shred of truth in what he’s saying since I’ve had my own suspicions about Grey for a while now. The man holds his hand out as an introduction and a peace offering. “Turner Montgomery.”
“Connor Lang.”
“I know who you are, Mr. Lang. I’m no stranger to snowboarding. Who do you think taught Vox to strap in?” he asks with a broken smile.
“I don’t understand. If you’re that invested in talking to Vox, why not just do it? Send him a message on social media, or do a meet and greet, or hell, you know he’s here. Catch him on the mountain.”
“I’ve tried. Patterson blocks my access at every turn.”
“Why?”
“You’d have to ask him. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Vox for seven years.” My phone rings, and Grey’s name appears on the screen, visible to Turner. “That’s my cue to get the hell out of Dodge before his goons chase me off again, but please,pleasetell Vox I’d love the chance to talk to him…and I know he probably won’t believe it, but could you let him know I’m proud of him? He can reach me at the number on the card.” Pointing to my still-ringing phone, he says, “You’d better answer that.” Then he turns and walks away.
Stunned speechless, I slide the button to answer the call, but don’t say anything as I hold the phone to my ear.
“Connor?” Grey says into the phone. “Connor, are you there?”
“Uh, yeah. What’s up?”
“We’ve all gathered for tea and were wondering if you’d like to join us,” he says sarcastically. “What do you mean ‘what’s up?’ You’re late for practice. Where the hell are you?”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Pocketing my phone, I readjust the board under my arm and continue making my way toward Grey, the team, and Vox.
