I pull up to the security gate and flash the badge. Seeing Gus’s wide frame on the stool, I roll down my window. Even though it’s dark and late, a group of fans lines the gates. I search the small crowd for Rodney.
“Hey, Gus. Have you seen our friend?”
“Not tonight. He’s usually squatting out here early if he shows.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
“You got it. I’ll text you if I see him.”
I start to roll up my window, but his voice stops me.
“Saw you taking it out on Jos this morning. Remind me not to piss you off.” He grins and winks, one silver tooth shining in the dim parking lot lights.
“You keep all this between us, and we won’t have a problem.” I tease but also give him a look that lets him know I mean it.
He presses his lips together like they’re sealed tight, and I pull through and park, seeing that the bus hasn’t arrived yet.
I sit in the dark, watching and waiting. There are a few other cars with people in them, likely wives, girlfriends, or drivers. Isurvey the fence and the fans outside of it, expecting the team’s return. The shadows make it dangerous. I can’t see their hands or their faces.
The charter bus pulls through the gate and parks along the building. I step out of the car, slipping my Sig into my holster in the front of my jeans while keeping my eyes trained on the fence as the players start to file off the bus, but I can’t see.
I walk toward the bus, quickly scanning the area, needing to be sure I can reach Cole.
A few players pass me on the way to their cars before I see him.
Cole steps off the bus, and I make sure to keep my body in line with his, quickening my pace.
“Hey.” His tone is full of concern.
“Walk straight to me,” I order him.
I return to scanning the fence and parking lot. “Stay behind me until we get to the car.”
“Everything ok?”
“I can’t see out here, and I don’t like it.”
“Aw. Isn’t this cute? Matthews’s lady is here to mop up the tears.”
I don’t have to see his big, ugly face to know that comment came from Travis Bonnard. The man has had a few run-ins with the law, but I’d really like to let him make contact with the heel of my boot.
“Are we addressing that?” I ask as I shift, placing myself beside Cole to shield him from the jackass following.
“She gets all the way out of the car and no welcome home kiss. Matthews, that tells me football isn’t the only thing you struggle with.” His laugh bellows through the parking lot, and if I hadn’t been assured that these players’ bags were checked for weapons, I’d be getting a little nervous.
“T-Bone, it’s time for you to shut your mouth. We’ve all had enough today.” Cole’s tone is more tense than I’ve ever heard it.
“Hey now, don’t take it out on me that your sweet thing isn’t here to give you some—”
Cole stops. “Don’t finish that sentence, T-Bone.”
I retreat. “Get in the car,” I forcefully whisper, my eyes roaming and grabbing his arm to get him to move.
He doesn’t budge. One quick glance at his face tells me he’s about to lose his shit.
“Cole, Get. In. The. Car,” I demand.
The other players watch as they trek toward their vehicles.
