Page 48 of Puck Princess

Fuck my life.

I throw on a pair of scrubs that are tighter now than they were a couple weeks ago and meet Kennedy in the living room. Clutching the warm mug of cinnamon spicy goodness between my hands, I take a deep breath.

“Spill,” Kennedy demands. “What happened.”

I don’t want to talk about it, but I have to. The dream is like a crushing weight on my chest.

“I had a bad dream.”

She winces. “The one where you’re massaging Michael Jordan and your fingers turn into hot dogs?”

“No, but thanks for reminding me of the second worst dream I’ve ever had.” I shiver. “No, this was different. I was back at my last job, but Owen was there. We were in my office, which was more private than the one I have now, and it was getting heated. Like… very heated.”

“So far, this sounds like a great dream. Keep going.”

“But then, he started getting aggressive. He was being rough and pushy. Even when Owen and I are on fire, he doesn’t act like that. He’s sweet and tender and careful.”

“God, rub it in, why don’t you?” Kennedy circles a hand in the air to hurry me along. “You two are perfectly matched sexual puzzle pieces, I get it. Move it along.”

I roll my eyes. “Anyway, when I pulled back, it wasn’t Owen.” I swallow down the knot lodged in my throat. “It was Spencer.”

“Oh, Callie…” Kennedy’s face crumples in sympathy, and I blink back tears.

It was just a dream, but… it didn’t feel like a dream. Even now, it plays back in crystal clear, high def, full color.

Spencer was looming over me, his hands claiming every inch of me. I fought, but I couldn't’ do anything to push him away.

I screamed for Owen, but Spencer just laughed, drowning out my voice.

No one is coming to save you, Callie. You’re all mine.

I shake away the memory, hoping this little purge will make it go away now. “I woke up screaming, and Owen held me while I fell back asleep. But it’s still kind of hanging over my head. I can’t seem to shake the bad feeling.”

Kennedy sets her mug down and scoots closer to me on the couch. “Callie, this is a sign. You have to say something. Clearly, you don’t feel safe at work right now. The man whoassaultedyou and got away with it is your newest coworker. Of course, you have a bad feeling.”

I’m still cupping my mug in my hands, taking comfort in the heat of it. “I don’t know…”

“But I do. You shouldn’t be afraid to go to work. You shouldn’t be walking on eggshells and peeking around every corner, scared of what might jump out.”

“But if I tell Owen, he’ll fly off the handle. He’ll do to Spencer what he did to Miles—maybe worse. It would jeopardize his entire career. He might never play again.”

“Okay, then tell my dad. Go to him in confidence. Tell him why it needs to be kept secret. I’m sure the team can pay to keep things confidential even if cops and lawyers get involved.”

I shake my head. “I don’t see how we’d keep it out of the press. Owen would find out.”

“So what are you going to do then, Cal? Wait for Spencer to strike again so you have fresh allegations against him? You know what he’s capable of?—”

“Of course I know what he’s capable of!” My words come out sharper than I intend, but the knives aren’t aimed at Kennedy. “But I don’t know, Ken. Everything is so tangled together. It’s like a knot in a shoelace that just can’t come undone.”

She puts her hand on my knee. “You gotta cut that knot out. Will there be damage? Yeah. But you can replace it. If you wait too long, if it gets too bad, the damage will be much, much worse.”

The trouble is, I have no idea who will be on the wrong side of that damage. If it’s me, I can handle that. But Owen? The Scythes? Uncle Randy?

I don’t want any of them to take the heat for my past.

“I’ll think about it,” I tell her. “I’ll try to come up with a plan. Until then, I’ll steer clear of Spencer.”

“Well, you better come up with a plan fast. The next game is in San Francisco.”

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