Chapter 70
Damon
I stood outside the training facility, my hands buried in the pockets of my jacket, trying to ground myself, but nothing seemed to work. My thoughts were all over the place, spiraling between Alicia, Evan, and Nathan like I was trapped in some kind of emotional centrifuge. I felt like I had played nine innings in the blazing heat with no water break and no bench to collapse onto afterward.
Coach Langston had already called twice asking where I was. The team was apparently already warming up, and Sabrina had texted me that she was on her way to the facility to talk contracts and media cleanups. But none of that mattered. Not when Alicia’s voice was still ringing in my ears. Her frustration. Her fear. Her heartbreak. That sharp, trembling edge in her voice when she had snapped at Evan telling him she was not a child.
She had every right to be angry. I hated that I had a hand in that.
I rubbed a hand over my jaw, exhaling slowly. I needed to get myself under control before stepping inside. If the guys saw me like this, they would ask questions, and the last thing I needed was anyone thinking they had ammunition against me. Especially now that Nathan had chosen to jump ship to the Portland Cyclones. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around that move. It wasn’t a normal transfer. It wasn’t even subtle. It was a declaration. A shot fired from across state lines.
I finally pushed through the doors, the cool air from inside hitting my face. A couple of players looked up from stretching, giving me quick nods. I forced myself to return them, trying to appear normal, but I knew I wasn’t pulling it off well enough. My head wasn’t here. My heart definitely wasn’t here.
“Damon,” a familiar voice called.
I turned to find Sabrina standing near the benches, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. She had only come back into town a few hours ago but looked like she’d slept in a five-star hotel for a week straight. She always had that look...sharp, composed, unreadable.
“You’re late,” she said.
“Yeah,” I murmured, walking over. “I had to take care of something.”
“Alicia,” she guessed immediately.
It wasn’t a question. It was a certainty.
I sighed. “Things are complicated right now.”
Her gaze softened slightly. “I heard pieces. Nathan leaving the team. The threats. The hospital incident. Damon, this is starting to look less like sports politics and more like something else.”
“Because it is something else,” I muttered under my breath. “And it’s getting worse.”
She studied me quietly for a moment. “You know you can’t play like this.”
“I know,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Trust me, I know.”
She stepped closer. “Look at me.”
I lifted my gaze.
“You either need to step away for a bit,” she said, “or you need to get ahead of this before it eats you alive. No half measures.”
I knew she was right. I hated that she was right.
But before I could respond, my phone buzzed. I took it out, expecting it to be Alicia or Evan, but instead it was a number I didn’t recognize. I hesitated before answering.
The voice on the other end was low, almost too calm.
“You need to be careful.”
A chill went through me. “Who is this?”
“It doesn’t matter,” the voice said. “What matters is that Nathan isn’t working alone.”
My heart thudded. Sabrina took a step closer, sensing the shift in my body language.
“Who are you,” I demanded, “and what do you want?”
“A warning,” the voice replied. “Someone inside your circle is feeding him information. Someone close enough to know your schedule. Your habits. Your weak points.”
I froze.
“Tell me who it is,” I said sharply.
But the line went dead. I stared at my phone, disbelief and anger mixing into something volatile.
Sabrina frowned. “What happened?”
“Anonymous call,” I said. “They said Nathan isn’t working alone. That someone close to me is helping him.”
She didn’t look surprised. That scared me even more.
“Damon,” she said quietly, “I didn’t want to tell you anything until I had proof, but I’ve… heard rumors.”
My stomach tightened. “Rumors like what?”
“That someone on your side is leaking information. Personal information. Not just team-related things. But your routines. Your private life.”
I clenched my fists.
“Who,” I demanded.
She shook her head. “I don’t know yet. But I’m looking.”
I felt the anger burning under my skin, slowly rising, trying to take control. Someone close to me. Someone I trusted. My mind immediately went through names like a rapid-fire slideshow. The team. Staff. Friends. Even...
No. I shut that thought down immediately. It had to be someone else. Someone I wouldn’t expect. Someone who had something to gain or something to lose.
And then I remembered the way Marcus had acted lately. Distant. Nervous. Always on edge. He hadn’t answered my calls last night. He hadn’t even checked in this morning, which was unlike him. My heartbeat picked up.
“It might be Marcus,” I said quietly.
Sabrina stiffened. “You think so?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, “but he’s been acting strange. Really strange.”
“And you trust him?”
“I used to.”
Before either of us could continue, Coach Langston blew his whistle sharply.
“Damon,” he barked, “you in or out today?”
I inhaled, straightened my shoulders, and nodded. “I’m in.”
Sabrina placed a hand on my arm. “Be careful,” she warned. “And call Alicia when you’re done. She needs reassurance right now.”
The mention of her name hit me harder than the whistle.
I nodded again, then jogged toward the field, trying to switch gears, though every muscle in me was still tense. The guys clapped my back as I joined the warm-up. Some of them joked about me being late. I forced a smile but it felt foreign on my face.
Practice began. Balls were pitched. Gloves slapped. Bats cracked. Coaches shouted instructions. Sweat trickled down my forehead, and I did everything I could to focus on the rhythm of the game. The stability. The familiarity. The one place where I usually felt in control.
But today I couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were on me. Not the usual fans. Not the scouts. Someone else. Someone watching. Calculating.
Halfway through batting drills, I heard murmurs from the sidelines. Two players were talking quietly, but I heard Nathan’s name. My grip tightened around the bat.
I stepped back from the plate.
“Damon,” Coach barked. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Just need a second.”
I walked away from the group, pacing near the dugout. My breath was uneven. My thoughts were spinning again.
Nathan joining the Cyclones. Someone betraying me. Anonymous warnings. Alicia stuck between her brother and my enemies. My life unraveling one thread at a time.
I pressed my hands against my knees, trying to slow down. Then my phone buzzed again.
A message. From Marcus.
"We need to talk."
My chest tightened. I stared at the screen, my pulse quickening.
Sabrina appeared beside me as if she’d been watching. “What’s wrong now,” she asked.
I handed her the phone. She looked at the message, then looked at me.
“Damon,” she said slowly, “don’t go alone.”
I swallowed hard.
“I have to,” I whispered.
Because if Marcus was betraying me, if he was tied to Nathan, If he had any information I needed…
Then this could change everything not only for me but for the team and for Alicia.
I pocketed my phone and exhaled shakily.
“Practice is over for me,” I told Sabrina.
And without waiting for her response, I walked out of the facility with my heart pounding, knowing this meeting could either save everything… Or destroy everything.