The door opened.
Moment of truth.
Peter and Coach Thompson took their seats, staying silent as if they expected me to break. I wasn’t intimidated. I didn’t do right by myself, but I sure as hell did whatever it took to protect Lachlan.
Coach Thompson spoke first. “Do you have the pictures?”
This wasn’t some CIA operation. I tossed an SD card onto the desk.
“Excellent.” Peter nodded. “Good job, Elle. How were the shots?”
The images were clean, but I felt dirty. “I did as much as I could without drawing suspicion.”
“Did anyone see you?” Coach Thompson asked.
“No.”
He loaded the card into his laptop and opened the files. I’d snapped various images of line-ups, formations, and installations. I held my breath until he nodded.
“This will work.” Coach Thompson quickly scrolled through the rest of the files. “I can use this.”
I shouldered my bag “Can I go? I have a lot of work to do before the season starts.”
Peter spoke after a long moment, his words soft. “Go home, Elle.”
That would only make the team more suspicious of my absence. “I don’t need time off.”
“It’s not time off,” he said. “Your services are no longer necessary.”
The bag dropped. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, Elle. You’re fired.”
No.
The silence sliced through me. I stared, dropping the fake confidence and attitude.
Coach Thompson reveled in my shock. “No one is sorrier than me to see you go.”
“I doubt that.” My words turned sour. “You still have my nudes.”
“No substitute for the real thing.”
This wasn’t happening. My stomach twisted, roiling with morning sickness, rage, and a quick and quiet fear. If they were firing me…what would they do to Lachlan?
“I did everything you asked,” I said. “I got the pictures. I traveled. I agreed to do this. Why the hell would you fire me?”
Coach Thompson usually spit and yelled on the field. The softness in his voice unnerved me. “The Rivets are a family, Elle. If you’re not one hundred percent committed to this team…”
“I am committed to the team. To the players. To them men out there breaking their own bodies every day to get better and work harder and earn another championship.” I quieted. “Someone has to protect them from you.”
He wasn’t threatened. “So what will you do? Release the pictures now? And what would happen to Lachlan? I have every reason to let him go, Elle. Did he tell you he got into a fight with Jack Carson? Nearly broke my hundred-million-dollar quarterback’s nose?”
I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t imagine Lachlan in a fight—especially not with Jack. Theirs was a bromance made in heaven.
Peter turned on a television in the corner. He pointed to the time and date stamp. The least the traitor could have done was look at me while he twisted the knife.
“This is a recording from our security system, showing you, at the stadium, saving Lachlan Reed from a speeding car,” he said. “You were in the facility. You had a key to my office. You stole the SD card, and we need you to admit it.”
“You’re going to accuse me of theft so you can fire me?” I asked.
Coach Thompson nodded. “We have a zero tolerance policy regarding theft of any team equipment or intellectual property. Give me your badge. Security will escort you out.”
I slammed the ID card into the desk. “I don’t need security. After four loyal years, I think I can find my own way out.”
“We can’t have you nipping off with anything else, can we, Elle?”
Peter attempted to guide me from the office. I didn’t let him touch me.
The security guards, Bryant and Roger, had no idea why they escorted me to my car, but undoubtedly Coach Thompson wanted the team to see them with me.
That humiliation stung. Worse than the blackmail, worse than the entire team catching me naked in the shower.
I never thought I’d be escorted away, tail between my legs, forced from the one place that always felt like home. Fortunately, most of the guys were on the fields.
Lachlan didn’t seem them haul me away.
And I’d be forever grateful for that.
But this wasn’t over. No way.
I couldn’t let them win now, not when Lachlan’s position was in such jeopardy.
There had to be a way for me to still protect everyone, including the man I loved.
The shame and frustration and rage twisted inside me. I made it home, but I couldn’t get any farther than the bathroom. The morning sickness purged some of the betrayal from me, but I let myself cry. Just for a few minutes. Just until the cool tile soothed my fevered skin and I could devise some sort of plan to save the Rivets from themselves.