Page 41 of Bar Down

"Uh-huh." Chenny's knowing smirk said he wasn't buying it. "And that collaboration requires staring at each other like you're looking for holes in a defense?"

"I don't stare. I observe. Same as reading plays on the ice."

"Semantics, man. For what it's worth, I think it's cool. You’re good for each other."

Marcus remained silent, unsure how to respond without confirming or denying.

"Anyway," Chenny continued, pulling out his phone, "that's not actually why I came over. Take a look at this."

He held up his screen showing an anonymous message on his YouTube channel:Tell Spreadsheets his precious numbers won't save him or the team. He should have minded his own business.

The tension that had been coiled in Marcus's chest tightened another notch. Reed was expanding his attack, reaching out to teammates. This wasn't just about ruining two careers anymore—it was about destabilizing the entire team. Reed must have found out Marcus had been investigating him.

"When did you receive this?" he asked.

"About twenty minutes ago. I traced the IP—”

“You can do that?”

“Yeah,” Chenny said and gave him a look that said it was easy. “They used a VPN, but it's doesn’t sound like a random troll." Chenny studied him with unusual seriousness. "Is this connected to the Darby & Darby stuff?"

Marcus considered his response carefully. Chenny was the team's most tech-savvy player, with a significant social media presence. A potential resource if utilized properly.

"Potentially. I'd appreciate your discretion on this matter."

Chenny nodded. "No problem. But if you need tech help..." He left the offer hanging.

"I'll keep that in mind." Marcus filed away the possibility. Chenny's computer science background might prove valuable if things escalated further.

When Chenny left, Marcus texted Stephanie.Problem. Our friend sent a warning message sent to Chenny's channel.

Fucker.

He couldn’t have said it better himself.

I’ll be right there.

Good.

***

STEPHANIE

She'd changed into black leggings and an oversized Chill sweatshirt, letting her hair fall loose around her shoulders after washing away her makeup. It felt good to shed her professional armor, even if it made her feel unexpectedly vulnerable walking down the hotel hallway to Marcus's room. Especially given the circumstances.

Stephanie balanced two coffee cups as she knocked, using her elbow to tap against the door. Her stomach tightened as she waited. God, she was furious about this breach—and more than a little scared. Someone had gone after them directly, and while she'd faced PR crises before, this was dangerously personal.

Marcus opened the door, his usual composed expression momentarily softening at the sight of her. He looked exhausted but focused, shirt slightly rumpled, hair standing up where he'd likely been running his hands through it in frustration.

"Any progress?" he asked, accepting the cup.

"Limited," she replied. While he and the Chill had been practicing and then playing their game with Toronto, she and the cyber security team had been busy. "The breach came from a proxy server in Montreal, but bounced through multiple locations. Whoever did this knows their shit."

Stephanie set her cup on the desk and dropped the folder she'd been carrying beside it. "I've been making notes on potential suspects. Cross-referencing people with ties to Reed who also have cybersecurity backgrounds."

She felt him move closer, standing just behind her. Close enough that she felt the heat emanating from him. Her body reacted before her mind could control it, a pang of desire spreading through her.

"Show me," he said, his voice low near her ear.

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