“Don’t be a smartass. How was the game yesterday?”
I push out a breath. “Fine. One of his teammates is a real asshole. You’ve seen the pictures circulating.” I cross my arms. “We’re going to find out if this is all about football or if it’s more. If this runs deeper than trying to scare him off the field, and they think I’m important to him, they’ll start aiming for me.”
Tracker runs a hand over his scruff. “You ready for that?”
“I was born with a target on my back.”
His eyes meet mine, a rare softness to them.
“I wonder how long it will take until another note comes through. They aren’t likely to just disappear.”
He nods. “Especially if they don’t know you’re protecting him.”
I shift my weight to the other foot. “There’s aSportsEliteevent at the end of the week.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s a big deal to show up to something like this with him. You sure you’re good with that?”
I bite my cheeks. He knows I’m not backing down from this. I’ve made it this far.
“I guess we’ll just have to see how it goes.” I shrug because it’s all I can do.
“How’s he? How’s. . .being around him?”
This part I can answer. “It’s ok. He’s quiet. Focused. He carries a lot of pressure all the time. Life doesn’t exist outside of football.”
I think about the large family he told me about on the way here. I didn’t know he had younger siblings, which is great. Hopefully, that means they’re also off this scumbag’s radar.
He said he’s close to them and misses them. I imagine more than he’s willing to say. His dad died a few years ago, but he didn’t say anything about his mom. I almost asked but didn’t want to pry. It’s only further proof that there’s so much more to Cole underneath the jersey and pads.
Tracker tilts his head. “He’d better be careful. You bottle all that up, and at some point, you blow.”
I nod. He’s right. We both know a little bit about holding too much in.
“I’m hoping we hear something soon. They’ve got to be getting pissed that he’s ignoring them. Just going on with life like they don’t matter.”
He weighs his head from side to side. “Depends on what they really want.” His gaze holds mine. “Whatever you hear or find, I want to know about it. You don’t go anywhere or do anything without me involved. Understand?”
I smile. “Yes, sir.”
He bumps my shoulder, and it’s a test as much as a tease.
“It’s healing,” I admit.
“Damn well better be, or I’d have to have Matthews babysitting your ass.” His phone vibrates, and he pulls it out of his pocket. “Shit.”
“What?”
He rubs his face. “Kelsey left Friday.”
“What?!”
“She texted the hotline.”
I grab his phone.
KELSEY: Help me. I’m sorry.
“Did she let you track her phone?”
