Once Upon A Half-Time 1(42)

The series of pictures had it all. Me naked. Lachlan beside me. His erection. Trying to cover it with a towel. The coaches probably confiscated a player’s phone to delete the images—but not before sending it to themselves.

Great. Was I going to be blackmailed…or was it insurance so that no one spoke out of turn if they learned about the cheating?

The Rivets weren’t just spying on other teams. They had intel on their own players.

And they’d use those horrible photographs to silence anyone who might have stopped them.

More footsteps. I panicked, struggling to close the folders of damning pictures. The computer sputtered and froze. I leapt to my feet and turned off the monitor as Freddie, our videographer, rolled through the door. He chugged his coffee and collapsed in a heap of his own equipment.

“Hey, Elle, you’re early,” he said.

My voice shrilled. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh yeah, I remember those newlywed nights.” He winked at me. “Savor the precious months.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“Where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you since Monday.”

“Had to go out of town.” I hoped Peter had covered for me with the staff while I was in Gainesville. “Family stuff.”

“Well, good thing you’re here. Peter’s looking for you.”

My stomach curdled. I shook my coffee cup and pretended it was empty. “Can you do me a favor? Get me a new coffee? I’m going to need another pick-me-up.”

Freddie laughed as he left the office. “Sure thing, Elle, but this is really something your husband should do for you…”

The door closed. I dove at the computer, pulling off as many files and images as I could grab in a minute.

Including the pictures of me.

I didn’t have any time now. I had to move into phase two of my plan.

Delay.

And I hated to do it.

I rushed to the women’s bathroom on the opposite end of the facility, far enough from the locker room, weight room, and cafeteria that none of the guys or female members of the staff would find me. I locked the door behind me and pulled my camera from the bag.

I kissed it, silly as that was.

“I’m so sorry I have to do this.” I whispered to her. It?

I took a breath and bashed my camera into the bathroom wall.

The plastic crinkled, and the lens shattered.

I didn’t stop. Once. Twice. Three times I crashed my pride and joy into the tile.

And, when it was done, I swore it was my own heart that fractured into dozens of pieces.

I grabbed every last shard and tucked it into the bag. Nothing I could do about it now. I’d lived through worse, traveling alone as a teenager through bad neighborhoods with less than scrupulous people. I wasn’t afraid of a fight, and it wasn’t the first camera that had been stolen or broken.

Just the first one I destroyed with my own hands.

But I’d make it right. I’d survive.

And I’d ensure the right people were punished for the Rivets’ cheating—not the innocent players who had no idea how corrupt the team was.

I rushed to the field and found Peter. He followed me to the tunnel where we could talk alone. I didn’t have to fake the emotion—I was fucking upset. Frustrated and violated and absolutely gutted with the loss of my best camera, my right hand.

I would have felt a hell of a lot better if I had a nude shot of him to wave around.

“Elle…” Peter asked. “You okay? How was the trip to Gainesville?”

“I have some bad news.”

“Did you go to the camp?”

I had traveled to Gainesville, snapping a couple pictures on my own. I even bought a little plastic alligator that doubled as a whistle to commemorate my stay.

But I hadn’t gone to the Cougars’ camp. Zane de la Cruz was safe—at least, until he had to face Cole Hawthorne.

“I did.” I lied.

“And?”

“Look, there was a problem.”

That wasn’t what Peter wanted to hear. “I trusted you.”

“I had an accident with my camera.” I rubbed my forehead. “I was outside taking pictures, and…someone grabbed it.”

He didn’t believe me, or he didn’t want to believe me. “It was stolen?”

“I chased him down, but there was nothing I could do.”

His voice rose, a little too angrily for someone not berating a rookie. “You should have tried harder! Elle, I gave you this job because I believed you could handle it. You might not understand how important this is, but it’s easier for you to just do as I say than deal with any consequences—”

I opened my bag and revealed the destroyed contents. “I chased the thief down the street. He dropped the camera, but I couldn’t get to it. A truck ran it over.”