Page 101 of Line Change

“He’s as dirty as they come. If anyone would do something for money, it’d be him,” Wes says.

“Do we think he’d be that stupid to risk ruining his career?” I ask.

“He’s not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed,” Holt says. I bite back a laugh because he’s not wrong.

“So, we keep an eye on him and watch our backs, especially yours.” I tip my chin toward Hunter. “And yours,” I say to Elias.

“We still don’t have a way to prove Sutton’s father’s involvement though,” Wes points out.

“I know.” I pace the room. “Anybody got any ideas?”

“I could text the PI I know,” Elias says.

I stop midstep and turn to him. “Why do you know a PI?”

What the hell is going on with him? I give him a once over, clearly there’s something else going on with him, and I’ve been too busy with my marriage to notice my friend is going through something. Maybe that’s why he showed up looking all disheveled and wrinkled.

“You want me to reach out to him or not? I’ll ask him to call you,” Elias says.

“Yes, please,” I say.

“His name is Logan. Logan Williams,” Elias adds as he pulls out his phone, presumably to text the guy.

“Why are you on a first-name basis with a PI?” Hunter stares at his half brother. “Something going on, E? Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Elias says, waving his brother’s concern away.

“Except I am worried about it,” Hunter says. He glances at the rest of us. “We can talk in private if you want.”

“I’ve got it handled,” Elias hisses. “Please drop it.”

What the hell is going on with him, and why won’t he tell us?

“What else can we do?” Wes asks, interrupting the stare off between the brothers.

“I don’t know. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

“One of the guys I was linemates with when I played for the Mustangs plays for the Wings now. If Sutton’s father is trying to send a message, I’m sure he’ll want to fuck us up during the last games of the season. I’ll text him,” Wes suggests after a couple of beats of silence. We have two games of the regular season left—the Fury on Saturday, and the Wings on Tuesday.

“Good idea,” I say.

We chat for a while longer before Hunter announces he needs to get home to Madison and Tate.

“I better go too,” Holt says, getting to his feet.

“Me too,” Wes says.

“Same,” Elias adds.

Once they’ve gone, I sink down onto the couch, exhausted. The weight of everything is catching up to me, but I need to call my mum. She texted me the other day that they’d offered the farm manager position to the guy we interviewed a few weeks back, and I’d like to know how it went. Plus, I probably should warn her about what’s going on. A quick check of the time tells me that I should be able to catch her before she goes to bed.

“Hey, Mum,” I greet my mum.

“Hiya, Bash. You alright?”

“Sort of.”

“What’s going on?”