Page 59 of Puck Struck
"James wants to meet tonight. Seven o'clock at the pier." Iswallow hard. "He's still demanding I go back to New York with him."
Logan's eyes narrow. "You're not going."
"If I don't?—"
"We'll handle it another way."
"What way?" I demand, frustration edging my words. "He's not bluffing, Logan. He'll release everything. I can stop it."
"We'll deal with it if he does." Logan's voice is firm. "But you're not meeting him alone."
His face is stony and hard, his eyes fiery. He's not backing down.
Oddly, neither am I.
For the first time since James reappeared in my life, I don't feel the urge to run. Because running would put Logan's career in danger. His family in danger.
And somehow, that's quickly become a line I won't cross.
"Okay," I say finally. "So what's the plan?"
Logan's expression shifts, surprise flickering across his face. "You're agreeing with me? Just like that?"
"Don't get used to it." I try for a smile and fail pretty miserably. "But yeah. You're right. We need a better plan than me walking into an obvious trap."
Something unspoken passes between us. It’s not trust, not yet, but almost a tentative alliance. We both have big things to lose, and neither of us is willing to forfeit the game.
The front door opens, jarring me. A child's voice fills the air, cracking the tension. "Uncle Lo! I got an A on my dinosaur project!"
Before either of us can respond, a boy bursts into the kitchen, bright blue backpack still on, waving a paper covered in crayon drawings. He skids to a stop when he sees me, his big blue eyes widening. I notice his skin looks a little bit yellowish, which is odd. But maybe it’s just his complexion.
"You're Cam Foster," he whispers, awe in his voice. "The rookie sensation."
"Ethan," Logan says, "this is my teammate Cam. Cam, this is my nephew Ethan."
The boy grins, showing off a missing front tooth. "I have your rookie card. Can you sign it? It's worth a lot, you know."
"Sure," I say, surprised by how easily the smile lifts my lips. "I'd be happy to."
Tessa appears in the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt. Ethan, homework first, then hockey cards."
"But, Mom?—"
"No buts. Go."
With a dramatic sigh, Ethan stomps out of the kitchen behind Tessa, but not before giving me a conspiratorial wink. "I'll be back with the card."
When he disappears up the stairs, Logan’s hand grazes my arm. "We need to record James. Get evidence of the blackmail."
I nod, mind still on the kid who just left. The kid who's sick. The kid Logan's sacrificing everything for.
"I'll text him back," I say. "Tell him I need more time."
"And then?"
My phone buzzes again before I can answer. Another text from James.
Tick tock, Connor. I'm tired of waiting. It’s decision time.
