Page 63 of Broken Promises

“Hurry up, Dec. You’re delaying breakfast, and I’m starving.”

“How close are you with your agent?” I ask him when I get to his side.

“She’s nice, and I’ve been working with her since I signed eleven years ago. I don’t talk to her outside of work-related things, if that’s what you mean.”

“Would it be weird if you did?” I ask.

He frowns. “Are you trying to ask Diego to be your friend?”

“Fuck no. He’s great at what he does, but I don’t like him.”

“I’m going to need your help on this one, buddy.”

“Willa’s agent is always with them. Well, not always. But like kind of a lot.” When she told me he was there last night, I got weirded out. “They haven’t even known him very long. He was at Thanksgiving with us.” I leave out that he was invited, and I wasn’t.

“Are you worried about him and Willa?” Gideon asks slowly.

I roll my eyes. “Not in that way. I’m just worried he’s taking advantage or something.”

“Why don’t you talk to Willa about it?”

“I needed another opinion.”

“Just talk to her. But try to make more sense when you do.” He claps me on the shoulder and walks away. I go to follow him, but just as I take my first step, my phone rings. My stomach growls in protest, but when I see it’s Willa, I answer it.

“Good morning, Princess.”

“Dec,” she says, her voice sounding strange. I freeze in my tracks.

“What’s wrong? Did she come back?”

“I’m okay, Declan. But the night guard, Dean, was found dead in the guard house this morning.”

“What happened? Did he have a heart attack or something?” I ask. Dean was a nice guy, but he was in his sixties and always eating cheeseburgers.

“Uh, no.” That’s all she offers, and I can tell it’s something much worse that she doesn’t want to tell me.

“I’m coming home.” I turn on the spot and march back to my room.

“You’re not coming home. You have three more games,” she protests.

“Fuck hockey. You’re in danger.” I plow through the door to my room, almost knocking Ben over. He looks like he’s about to let me have it until he sees my face. His brows shoot up, and he follows me back towards the beds.

“I’m fine. Hey! Callahan, give me that back!”

“Hey Dec, it’s Cal. I’ve got our girl handled. You don’t have to come back.”

“I can’t stay here while my wife could be in danger, Cal,” I say while throwing my clothes into my duffel bag.

“I get it, but I hired around the clock security, and Willa agreed to stay with Belle and Kai until you’re home.”

“Agreed isn’t the right word. Forced is better. Or threatened. That’s a better one,” Willa yells.

“How did Dean die, Cal?” I ask, pausing my packing. “Cal,” I repeat when he doesn’t answer right away.

He sighs. “His throat was slit.”

“I’m coming home.” I hang my phone up and throw the last of my things into my bag.

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