Kulti(166)

Oh God. “I’m leaving this, not you guys. You know Cordero’s never liked me. I’m not really surprised he finally decided to get rid of me, but I can’t believe he’d try to pawn me off to New York of all places.”

“They’d never let you play.” Jenny shook her head.

A hand cupped my elbow before trailing a path all the way to the small of my back. The heat of a man’s body seared my side. “You’ll be fine,” a male voice stated.

It took a second for my brain to register what was happening. Kulti was touching me in public, at practice no less, in front of my friends and whoever else was left in the locker room.

When his hand slid up my spine and settled on the shoulder furthest away from him, the tension drained from my lungs and shoulders. This was the end. He was my friend, nothing else. I had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of.

Fuck it. I put my hand on top of his. “Hopefully someone will take me.”

“They will,” he stated with complete confidence.

I’m glad one of us was certain.

His gaze settled on me, like he didn’t even realize there were other people there. “I need to talk to you.”

I wanted to ask about what, but figured I should wait.

“See you later?” I asked Jenny and Harlow who were watching us closely.

“Yeah,” they both agreed.

He didn’t bother waiting until we got to my car. Kulti stopped me in the middle of the parking lot, an exceptionally serious look on his face. “They aren’t going to put you in the game.”

“I know.”

“If we don’t do anything and the team moves on to next round, they aren’t going to let you play the final either.”

Grief and anger were so similar it was difficult to distinguish which one was crushing my lungs. “I know.”

Kulti took a step forward. He’d let his beard grow in the last couple of days, and it framed his face perfectly, really making his eyes pop. “Do you trust me?”

Did I trust him? My head jerked back a little and my eyebrows went up. I better be able to. “Yes.”

His nostrils flared as his chin tipped down. He resembled the man I’d admired on the field for so long. “Let’s talk to Cordero.”

I had just told him I trusted him, but I still wanted to ask what the hell we were going to talk to that ass-wipe about. Trust, right? He wasn’t going to screw me over. Kulti knew what was at stake.

I wanted to throw up, but instead I nodded.



* * *



“I’ll meet you there,” Kulti said before disappearing into the first restroom we came upon.

All right. I had no clue what the hell we were going to do, but I continued toward Cordero’s office. His secretary was at her desk. She looked what you’d imagine an older secretary to look like, neat, white hair trimmed short, a button-up sweater layered over a shell-collared shirt. It was almost easy to believe she was nice.

She wasn’t; at the very least she’d never been nice to me.

“Hi, Mrs. Brokawski. I wanted to see about talking to Mr. Cordero, please.” Kill them with kindness, right?

The rude old bat looked away from her computer, summing me up and finding me lacking. “You need to schedule an appointment.”

Someone was skipping the pleasantries. All right. “If I could just talk to him for five minutes? That’s it. It’s very important,” I stressed and lied to deaf ears, which had turned away to focus again on the computer screen.

“I already explained, you need to schedule an appointment. He has an opening for Monday at eleven,” she stated.

“There’s no way for me to speak to him today?”

The lady rolled her eyes and wasn’t discreet about it. “No.”

Obviously she wasn’t going to work with me. “Thank you anyway,” I said before turning around. I started walking in the direction I’d come from, intending to find the German to let him know he was going to have to be the one to get the rabid badger to let us in. Before I even left her visual range, Kulti was there walking forward, frowning.

“She won’t let me in to see him,” I explained.

He blinked once then grabbed my hand, palm to palm, and walked with me back to the secretary’s desk.

Kulti didn’t bullshit around. “I need to speak to Cordero. Now.”

Her slim wireless frames moved up to see who was speaking. Her entire face changed when she spotted the German. “Mr. Kulti, you should really schedule an appointment—“

“No. I need to see him now,” he cut her off.

The old bat’s eyes swung over to me, and I didn’t miss the wrinkle on her nose. Well, the multiple wrinkles on her nose. “Let me get him for you.”