Page 5 of Deadly Ruck
All I could do was murmur my agreement and let them scrape me up off the mattress to take me to the bathroom.
Chapter Two
Chelsea
I steppedout of the shower and quickly dried myself. I was a little stiff and sore from the thorough fucking, but satisfied as hell. I was very ready for the meal the guys were preparing, and an early night.
Tomorrow, I'd figure out what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Now the world knew what I used to do for a living, no sports team was going to hire me. No general practices either. I could set up my own, but I'd probably struggle to get patients through the door. I'd be lucky if I was allowed to attend my own graduation ceremony.
Maybe it would all blow over; until then, I had no choice but to come up with a plan B. Right now, I couldn't begin to think what that was. I'd have to give myself a few days grace. Or a few weeks maybe. I'd figure things out, I always had before. I needed to get through the next few days first.
I hung the towel up on a hook in the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom to quickly get dressed. I didn't know when, but at some point Frost had clothes in my size delivered to his cottage. Apart from scaring the shit out of me earlier, they were the most thoughtful guys. A girl couldn't ask for better.
Dressed in comfortable track pants, a long sleeved T-shirt and a Smashers hoodie, paired with thick socks that looked like something my brother would have bought for me, I stepped out into the living area.
“So, then he said, I don't care how many laps your coach made you run, he's not here anymore," Frost was saying. "And we said—" He stopped to look over at me and smiled softly. "Hey, we have a guest."
"Yeah, I can see that. Coach Stanley, you're looking well." And very much alive. Curious, considering Dominic King had Storm and Atlas kill the man for him.
"Please, call me Max." He held out his hand.
I shook it and glanced over to Storm and Atlas. "I thought you…"
Storm snorted. "We weren't going to kill the best head coach we've ever had. We brought him out here so he could hide until we dealt with all the shit back in Dusk Bay."
"Which I'm grateful for," Max said.
"There's another cottage on the property," Frost supplied. "We figured we should invite him over to fill him in on things."
How far away was that cottage? None of us were trying to be quiet while we fucked. If the expression on his face was any indication, he'd heard plenty, but was happy to pretended he hadn't. That suited me. I wasn't ashamed of anything we did, but I didn't necessarily need him overhearing either.
"I'm sorry you got caught up in all of this." I slid into a stool at the kitchen island.
He shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend I'm happy about any of it, but they could have killed me and tossed me into a shallow grave. I count myself lucky my players are loyal. They were just telling me you were fired." He looked regretful.
"I suppose I should be glad I'm not in a shallow grave too," I said on a sigh. "Apparently a public shaming was enough."
"For what it's worth, I don't see how your past job has anything to do with being a team doctor," he said. "The players all respect you. You're good at what you do. They'll come to realise that."
"I think it's for the best," Frost said. When I looked at him sharply, he continued. "I like it better when you're not in the vicinity of King or Skinner. I'm starting to think we should have stashed you here with Coach weeks ago."
"You think I would have let myself be stashed?" I nodded thanks to Atlas as he placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of me. It smelled delicious, full of potatoes and other vegetables.
"You would have if I said so," Storm said. "I should have. Letting you stay there with the team was a mistake."
"May I remind you, it wasn't your call," Ramsey said. He was in the kitchen cutting open bread rolls with a knife that looked sharper than it needed to be. "That order came from way above both our heads."
"I don't give a shit," Storm told him. "If I wanted Chelsea hidden, she'd be hidden. If they didn't like it, they could fuck all the way off. I don't take orders from them."
"Yes, you do." Ramsey tossed the rolls onto a plate and placed it on the island, within reach. "Whether you like it or not, you do."
"Not when it comes to Chelsea and her safety," Storm insisted. "Then I only take orders from myself. I don't care who I have to piss off. She's my priority. Her and the rest of you." His expression softened slightly when he looked at me, then at Frost. The other four were his brothers, he had the softest spot for the two of us.
Frost frowned at Ramsey. "Would you really put her at risk just to follow orders?"
"At risk, no," Ramsey replied. "I did my best to make sure she wasn't. But the bridge you would have burned trying to do your own thing would have burnt you."
"Ramsey is right," I said quickly when Storm and Frost opened their mouths to argue with him. "I was safe and it's not worth making enemies of the Brantley family. I might have avoided ending up in my brother’s workroom, hanging from chains, but I can't guarantee the same for any of you." He wouldn't have liked it, but if he had no choice, that's what Ice would have done.
