Page 79 of Who's Saving You
“What’s going on? Oh shit, we didn’t have dinner plans, did we?”
I shake my head. “No, I was just leaving the stadium, and today’s run-in is bothering me. You said Raines wasn’t a concern, right?”
She shrugs, already standing like she’s trying to push me out of her office. “He’s not. But his name creates questions; it always has, especially since he’s coaching a few towns over. Don’t worry, people like to stir embers, but that doesn’t mean there’s fire.”
I watch her for a moment too long. Her hands are steady, her voice smooth. But something about the way she told the person on the phone to“send another message”still clings to me.
I almost asked her what file she meant. I almost brought up what I heard. But I don’t.
Because it’s Eva. Mysister.
She’s handled everything for years. She stepped up with Mom, let me stay and play. Handled our dad’s disappearance, even though I’m the one who caused it, and told me to focus on football only. She's my big sister; she knows better. Plus, she knows how this shit works. She’s been in it longer than I have and knows how to do damage control.
She's never made a mistake, so why am I doubting any of this now?
“You're right. They just caught me off guard.”
“You’re always so professional when you leave the stadium.” She comes close, standing in front of me, brushing my shirt down my shoulders, and straightening my tie. “I know that game haunts you, but look at where you are now. One bad game and you still made it to the NFL. Your team is on a win streak, and there’s a good chance you’re heading to the Super Bowl. One loss never mattered in the scheme of things. You’ve done well, Warrior.” She waves her hand and walks me to the door. “Aren’t you used to reporters' questions? I bet your new girlfriend asks a thousand a day.”
I roll my eyes. “Leave Noelle out of this. She doesn’t know anything.”
“Everyone knows something, Nik. It’s just a matter of how much is true and how much isn’t.”
Those words bounce around as the smell of stale cigarette smoke invades my senses.
32
Nik
I enter my condo. It’s quiet, since Stone and Noelle are still out. My phone buzzes with a notification. The home screen shows a new email. I almost ignore it, wanting to toss my phone away, and replay the conversation with my sister over and over. Something isn’t right, but I can’t put my finger on it. And I’m sure it’s just me being paranoid. Eva has always warned me about women and football players. And I’m not dumb—I’ve read the stories, seen the fallout of what happens if you let emotions and lust sweep you away for a few minutes.
Am I an idiot for thinking it's different with Noelle? Even after just a few weeks?
My phone buzzes with the reminder notification, and I click it open. And like fate is laughing in my face, the picture arrives just as I’m questioning it all.
The image almost collapses me. It’s Noelle, at her editor’s office. She’s sitting stiff in a chair, shoulders pulled tight, eyes down like she’s bracing herself. But this isn’t a posed look. Someone took this picture from far away, even though it’s clear as day. It was not taken from inside that room. Someone was watching.
She told me she was going to speak with her editor, and that she was looking to buy more time. But now seeing this and hearing another reporter asking about Raines, is she lying to me?
My stomach turns. Even with Stone there, someone knew where she was and managed to get this shot. And they made sure to send it to me, to my personal email, like a threat or a warning. And the timing,Christ. My sister dropped comments, making it clear she doesn’t want me with Noelle. That she thinks Noelle is poison to my career. Then, as if on cue, this picture lands in my lap. It’s too clean and doesn’t feel like a coincidence.
Are they warning meabouther? Or warning me they canget toher?
Send another messageechoes in my head.
If Noelle moves forward, even just a mini blog or placeholder piece won’t stay small. The second it goes live, the internet will rip it apart, spin it out of control, and every headline will have my name in it.
“Saint Nik Sinned in College.”
“The Saint isn’t what he seems.”
Or worse?
The story will take off, and names will be exposed. And then we’re all in danger.
I grit my teeth. My career couldn’t survive that storm. And Noelle knows it. She’s caught in the middle, but in theend, everyone always saves themselves. No matter what promises they give you.
I stare at the photo, bile rising in my throat. Who sent it? Why now? My sister’s warning and this email are all too damn close. Somebody wants me scared.
