Page 80 of Puck Struck
I move closer, straining to hear more.
"Two weeks. You said two weeks." His voice cracks. "No, I—you can't just change the fucking terms whenever you want."
I step on a loose piece of tape, the slight sound echoing in the empty corridor. Cam whirls around, his eyes widening when he sees me.
"I’ve got to go," he says into the phone, stabbing the screen.
For a moment, we just stare at each other, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between us.
"James?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
Cam nods, shoving the phone into his pocket. "It's nothing."
"Bullshit." I close the distance between us. "What's he saying now?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me," I say, my voice cutting. "Especially when it's affecting our game. What did he say?"
Cam looks away, jaw tight. "He's changing the timeline. Says two weeks is too long, that he's getting impatient."
"And?"
"And he mentioned you specifically." Cam's eyes meet mine, fear evident in their depths. "Said he had more photos of us together from Detroit."
Ice chills my blood. "Photos of what, exactly?"
"Nothing explicit. Just us...close. Enough to fuel the rumors." He swallows hard. "He wants to meet when we get back to Oakland."
"And you were going to tell me this when?" I clench my fists tight, wishing like hell James was here so I could bury one in his skull.
"I was handling it."
"Like you handled it last night?" The words come out harsher than I intended, bitter and laced with hurt.
Cam recoils. "That was different."
"Was it?" I step closer. "Or is this just what you do? Push people away when things get hard? Run when someone gets too close?"
"You don't understand?—"
"I understand perfectly," I cut him off. "You're scared. So am I. But I don't bail when things get tough."
"This isn't about me being scared," Cam says, voice rising. "This is about keeping you safe. Keeping your family safe. James knows about Ethan, Logan. He's using that against me."
The thought of James knowing about Ethan, about my family, sends a fresh wave of fury through me. It also solidifies my resolve.
"What the hell are you going to do on your own?Leave for New York and then what? Walk away from hockey? You’ll just be his fucking captive forever?”
He shrugs and brings a hand to the back of my head. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. All I know is that the guy is dangerous. He’s got a grudge and he wants revenge for me ruining his life. I’d rather find a way to deal with it on my own than drag anyone down with me. He could ruin me. We all know it. The league doesn’t have tolerance for what I did, regardless of my reasons. Nobody will want me, Logan. No team will want a black mark on its roster. No companies will sponsor me. They won’t want me repping their products. So I’ll go to New York and I’ll find a way out somehow.”
The desperation in his voice guts me. He really feels like he’s got nowhere to turn, nobody who’ll give a damn enough if he just disappears.
But he’s wrong. I care. I hate that I care so much, but I do.
“You’re wrong. He’s blackmailing you and that’s a criminal offense. What you did shouldn’t destroy your future. It doesn’t define you as a person. And I want to help you through this. All the more reason for us to handle this together," I say. "Remember Mike? My cop friend? He can help us build a case, gather evidence properly. But we need to work together. You need to trust me. And you need to stand strong against him. I know you can do that."
"You’re willing to risk your career? Your family?"
