Page 15 of Devious Gambit

I got up to leave.

“One more question…do you own a black balaclava?” she asked.

“No,” I answered, which was the only lie I told her. As soon I return to my bedroom, I’ll hunt around for my balaclava and chuck it in a bin on the other side of town.

Cody drilled me with his eyes as soon as I stepped out of the living room, scrutinizing my behavior. I was starting to see a different side to him that I didn’t I like. Tough times can bring out the worse in people and Cody was wading through shit up to his knees. He was voted this season’s second captain, so pressure was on him and the other three captains to break the losing streak. He also had family shit that weighed him down. I thought my family was bad enough, but they ain’t nothing compared to the Harringtons’ of Chicago.

“You stick to your story?” he asked me.

“There’s only one story,” I answered.

“You say anything about Gallagher crashing into you on Friday night?” he enquired.

“I figured if she wanted to say something she would volunteer, besides, Sweeney is scaring her into silence.”

“Hopefully it’ll work.”

His comment didn’t surprise me, because he needed Sweeney in the team, but he was starting to piss me off, none the less. He’s just not the same guy he used to be and I guess I was worried for Gallagher. “Where the fuck is your heart these days, man?” I hit.

“Are you going soft or something?” he bit back. “Heart? What the fuck are you on about? That organ has nothing to do with shit. And fucking sort Gallagher out. If you don’t I will.”

“I’ll sort it! Quit fucking bugging me about it, since I’m doing you a fucking favor.” I stormed up the stairs just as Sweeney and Liam Greene were coming down, golf club bags slung over their shoulders.

“We’re heading to the club,” he told me.

“Has the cop spoken to you yet?” I asked him.

“She can speak to my lawyer,” he replied.

It just occurred to me that I was living with a bunch of fuckwits. Maybe next year I’ll get my own place off-campus. “You know it’s snowing outside, right?”

“And so?”

“Falling snow has a tendency to block vision,” I spelled it out for the wise guy.

“Makes it more fun,” he grunted.

Sure. I’d bet a hundred bucks, those two idiots weren’t going golfing, probably using the clubs to smash up some old man’s letterbox or something. Sweeney was an arrogant fuckwit before his dad was murdered, now he’s a psycho. The Hawks’ management and coaching team were having a nightmare with him. Even though he never missed a game, he rarely turned up to practice these days, pissing off the entire team. Using ‘mourning the loss of his father’ as an excuse was wearing thin. The other headache was that he was the best OT the team had, and he knew it.

The sweet scent of perfume hit me quick when I opened my bedroom door.

“I wondered when you were going to turn up,” she purred. Stacey McMillan was lying naked in my bed with the covers just covering her chest.

“How did you get in here?” I asked her.

“The usual way. The front door. You were in the living room speaking to the detective,” she informed me, slowly pulling down the blankets to reveal the goodies underneath. “Fancy a quickie?”

“Always, but now is not a good time,” I told her. I needed to search my drawers for the balaclava and discard it quick, before the detective gets twitchy and orders a search on the house.

She scrunched up her pretty face. “Have you lost interest in me?”

“No.” Yes, I had lost interest in her. As soon as she started badgering me for a commitment, my balls deflated. Besides, I couldn’t fuck her and try and get into Gallagher’s panties at the same time. There was no chance I could keep it a secret, since Stacey had friends and spies everywhere. Next, I’d be accused of cheating and the tears would flow, and I can’t be assed with that.

“Are you seeing someone else?” she asked me, wincing as if in pain. There lay the problem. She believed we were an item, so I’m asshole if I was seeing someone else. I can’t fucking win.

“Sort of.” If I answered ‘no’ she’d find out anyway. Jeez, my head was hurting. The truth. Plain and simple. I had to get Gallagher nice and relaxed and warmed up to me, so I can extract information from her. That’s all. I had no interest in pursuing her for hook-ups, like I would with a chick like Stacey. Gallagher was right, I should be bedding cheerleaders, and would normally bed cheerleaders, but I had to put that little habit on hold.

“What do you mean ‘sort of’?”

---