Page 40 of Hard Pass

One corner of his lips turns up. “Potential bias.”

“I can promise you that no one will be more thorough than I am.”

I’ve never been compromised in an investigation or even close to it. It doesn’t sit right with me. And truth be told, Marcus probably wouldn’t have thought twice if I’d told him up front that I’d met Cole years ago.

But since I never said anything, I can’t exactly say it now without looking bad.

And I think Cole knows that.

He tilts his head to the side. “I’m sure you are, but if I push for a new investigator? What will that say about you?”

“I’m known for fighting to find the truth, thoroughly and without bias. I can’t promise you what side of the decision you’ll end up on until I’m done with my investigation, but—”

“I can. I know exactly what side I’ll be on.”

I offer a tight smile. He’s not the first athlete to say that to me. And he wouldn’t be the first to lie about it either.

The best thing I can do right now is get to work and show him that’s my focus.

Plus, I might escape before he realizes my hands are trembling.

“If we’re done here,” I say gathering my things, “I need to get going to my first round of interviews.”

“Interviews?”

“Staff. Players. Trying to track down who made the bets.” I shrug. “That’s how I start getting answers.”

“I—uh—yeah.” He blows out a sigh and scrubs a hand through his hair. “Okay. I need to get to the training room.”

“Unless you don’t want me on the case,” I say, my brain still catching up.

He sits there for a beat, without an immediate answer. No, yes? No, no? And that unsettles me more than anything else in this entire situation.

I don’t do well with gray areas and loose ends. With anything that doesn’t resolve cleanly and decisively.

I turn toward the door anyway, refusing to linger in uncertainty, refusing to give him another second to study me or pick apart what he’s already seen.

The strap of my tote catches awkwardly against the chair as I pivot.

“Shit,” I say as the bag slips from my shoulder and crashes to the floor, contents scattering across the carpet. Lip gloss. A protein bar. My gym schedule. A folded utility bill I need to pay. Keys. At least my tampons didn’t escape. So fucking embarrassing.

Heat floods my face as I crouch instantly, gathering everything before he can see too much of my life spread out at his feet.

But Cole is already moving. “Here.” His large hand closes around the items that slid closest to him before I can reach them.

“I’ve got it,” I say too quickly.

“Clearly.”

I shoot him an irritated look as he hands over papers without comment. “Thanks,” I mutter, shoving everything back into the tote with far less organization than I usually require and head for the door.

“Dublin.” His voice stops me just as I reach for the handle.

I pause, spine stiffening, but I don’t turn around right away. This conversation has gone nothing like I thought it would, and I’m a person who thrives on certainty.

“Yes?” I ask, keeping my tone as even as possible.

“Something you might want.”