Page 40 of Chips & Checks
Apparently so.
“Do you mind pulling the rest of the items on my list?” I ask Eric. “I need to do something on my computer.”
“No problem.” Eric leaps into action, evidently grateful for a mundane task rather than the tension he unwittingly stumbled into.
Chad wants me scared. Wants me flustered. Wants me quiet. But not today. Not anymore.
I leave Eric to it and go over to my computer. If documenting is the only thing I can do, then I’m going to document the shit out of this. This won’t be a whisper in an inbox. It’ll be bullet-pointed, timestamped, and cc’d to hell and back.
I’ll give them a record so airtight even the lawyers won’t be able to breathe.
Chapter Ten
Bowen
I show up to the private airport early in the hopes that I can catch Violet before the flight. She still isn’t responding to my texts, even though I canseethat she’s reading them. I don’t know what happened with Chad yesterday, and I want to make sure that she’s okay and if there’s anything I can do.
I know it’s not my place but pretending like I don’t care hasn’t worked out so well. I just want to see her. Make sure she’s breathing. Make sure I didn’t imagine the look in her eyes when she said she’d handle it.
That look—stubborn and scared and trying like hell not to show it—has been replaying in my head nonstop. And maybe I’m here under the banner of “safety,” but the truth is, I just want to be where she is. It's not about control. It’s not even about Chad. Not entirely. It’s this gut-deep pull, like I’d sleep better if I knew she was in arm’s reach. Like I’d breathe easier if I could see her roll her eyes at me one more time. That’s all. Just… one more time.
Unfortunately, Violet is one of theonlypeople who isn’t present when I turn up. She’s the only one missing. Everyone else is accounted for—even Chad, who’s already texting in the corner like he’s not a walking HR violation. But Violet? She’s just… gone.
I knew Dante had money, but this? This is some Bond villain shit. The Venom logo is on the tail of our custom airplane, the flight crew is dressed in team colors, and someone offers me a cold-pressed beet and ginger shot before takeoff. What happened to orange juice and pretzels?
It feels surreal—like I’m stepping into a movie about a team, not a real one filled with drama and dickheads.
Camden looks over. “Don’t worry, we don’t ever do TSA. Dante’s allergic to public terminals.”
Knight waves me over when he spots me. “Hey, Bowen, quick question. We’re taking bets, and we need an impartial judge.”
“Of what?” I ask.
Without warning, Cam throws his arms around me and pulls me into a bear hug.
“The fuck?” I ask.
Tristan elbows him aside. “My turn.” He grabs me and pulls me close. I wouldn’t call what he gives me a hug. In fact, it has the hallmarks of something I know all too well.
“Did you just huggle me?” I demand.
“You tell me.” Tristan releases me.
Knight dips in, but I stop him with a hand to the chest. “No. Never do that again. And never say that in my presence. Christ, you two didn’t even do it right.”
“But I practiced on Sofia!” Knight whines.
“That’s not better. That’s way worse.” I shake my head and continue to fend him off. “Huggles are my dad’s thing. If he ever makes it to a game, you can ask him for pointers.”
“Maybeyoushould get some practice,” Tristan says. “I bet Violet would love a huggle, since she’s been so stressed lately. Maybe you can find a natural way to work one into the conversation. And don’t forget to hum.”
“Nope.” I sidestep Knight, who’s still going for a tiebreaker. “Speaking of Violet, have any of you seen her yet?”
Cam shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Well, in that case, I’m going to go to the bathroom before we board. I hate using airplane bathrooms.”
Tristan bobs his head in agreement. “Me, too. So cramped. So unsanitary.”
