Page 98 of Line Change

“Doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Thanks,” I say, focusing back on my breakfast.

“Come in. Come in,” Alex says, waving Bash and me into his office a couple hours later. “What can I do for you?” he asks when we’re seated across from him.

“Well.” I wring my hands. “Does the name Jonathan Jefferson mean anything to you?” He nods. “Good, you know who he is. Well, he’s my father …”

Alex stares at me for a few beats, the confession hanging in the air between us.

“He’s got quite …” He grimaces.

“The reputation? Is a lying, thieving, blackmailing billionaire?” I supply.

Alex chuckles. “When you put it that way …”

“It’s the truth. Why I’m telling you is because …” I launch into the abbreviated story of my father’s threats. Bash chimes in here and there about the bad calls and the dirty hits. “I don’t know if it’s coincidence, and my father is just saying things to manipulate me, but I wanted to bring it to you.”

“Holy shit,” Alex says when I’m done, looking between Bash and I. “Sorry.” He shakes his head, folding his hands on his desk. “I just wasn’t expecting you to come into my office and not only tell me you’re related to the owner of Double J Hotels but tell me all of that too.”

“I took my maternal grandmother’s name when I cut my family off. I didn’t want to be associated with my father. Frankly, I’d hoped no one would ever know, but unfortunately that’s not the case.”

“Thank you for telling me all this. You’re right it could be a coincidence, but nevertheless, we’ll keep an eye out, and I do have a meeting with the league later today. I’d already planned to question some of the refereeing over the past few games, but I’ll definitely be asking a few other questions now.”

“My father usually gets what he wants …”

“Understood. If you had any sort of evidence…” he says. “I’m not telling you I don’t believe you. It’d just make it far easier to put pressure on the league to investigate if there was evidence.” He glances toward the closed office door before lowering his voice. “Sometimes, players talk to other players when management isn’t involved, or someone says something they shouldn’t. If there was concrete proof of money changing hands or whatnot, then I’d be able to make a stronger case to the league.”

“Got it,” Bash says.

Alex leans back in his chair. “I don’t like it one bit. Have you considered taking a leave of absence?” He directs the question at Bash.

Bash rears back. “No. Why?”

“If anyone’s going to be the target on the ice, it’ll be you.”

“I can handle it,” Bash says.

“Maybe you should.” I put a hand on Bash’s arm. It’s not a bad idea. At least until we figure all of this out. “You already got hurt once. We don’t need it to be worse.”

“No, I’m not going to leave the team hanging during the last few games of the regular season, or in the post season. Besides, if I am the target, I need to be on the ice so we can get to the bottom of this sooner.”

I hate that answer. I really do. I mean, I get that he doesn’t want to let his team down, but what about his own safety? What about me and what I need? Which is for him not to get hurt. I don’t know if I could take him getting seriously hurt. But I don’t say any of that, I’d never force him to not play.

Alex shakes his head. “I don’t agree, but I respect your decision.” He glances at his computer screen. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I need to head to another meeting.”

“Thank you for your time,” Bash says, extending his hand to Alex.

“Of course. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. I’ll speak to a few of the other GMs and see if they know anything.” He shakes my hand too. “I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this, Sutton. Like I said to Sebastian, let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”

“Thank you.”

We leave, closing the door behind us.

“Are you alright?” Bash asks me when we’ve made our way back to my office.

“I guess. At least Alex knows now. Not sure what else we can do,” I tell him, taking a seat at my desk and turning on my laptop. I hate this. I hate it so very much. I hate feeling powerless against my father.

“We’ll figure it out.” He takes a seat across from me.