The words knock something loose inside of me. Anger. Guilt. Protectiveness. It all knots together in my chest.
“You should have stayed out of it,” I mutter.
Mila stiffens. “And what? Let them get away with it?”
I grip the counter, tension rolling through me. “At least you’d still have your family.”
Her jaw tightens. “You think that matters?” Her voice rises slightly, indignation seeping through. “You think I could have stayed under their roof knowing they sanctioned what Peter did? That they said it was justharmless fun gone awry?” Her expression twists with disgust. “I have no respect for them. I don’twantthem. And besides, the police didn’t have enough without my testimony. I had to do it.”
I try to push down my frustration. I’m ashamed to admit, part of my anger for Mila getting involved is that she was the final catalyst that set those convictions in motion and tore the team apart. Had it just been me and my testimony, nothing would have happened. I would have had the knowledge I did the right thing. Did all I could. And I could have kept my team together. Mila’s really the nail in the coffin and I used to despise her for that.
Now, I’m not sure what I feel.
Mila squares her shoulders, but I see the slight tremble in her fingers as she lifts her coffee to her lips. She takes a small sip, then sets the mug down. “Look, I didn’t come here to rehash the past.” She speaks hesitantly. “I came because I didn’t know what else to do.”
I glance at my laptop, where I’ve just spent the morning reliving the past. I motion to the bar stools and she takes a seat.I lean against the counter. “Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that’s happened.”
Mila pauses. “The threats started a few months ago. At first, they were just texts—unknown number, nothing traceable. Maybe every few days, but they escalated fast. Then the emails started.” She shivers slightly, wrapping her arms around herself. “They were more detailed. More violent.”
I nod, already knowing the kind of shit she’s been receiving if the email she showed me last night is any indication.
“I went to the police in Florida,” she continues. “I showed them everything. The texts, the emails. But they couldn’t track where they were coming from. They said unless there wasproofsomeone was actually coming after me, their hands were tied.”
Of course, they fucking did. “So you think it’s Peter?”
Her throat bobs. “Who else would want to come after me?”
I drum my fingers against my biceps. “Jace, and I say that only because Peter’s ability to email and text are limited.” I consider this, my mind racing. “Or it could have been Ryan or Colton helping him. Hell, it could be all of them.”
Mila’s brows furrow. “What do they hope to accomplish? Just to terrify us? Or do they want revenge?”
I don’t have an answer for that but I mutter, “I got something too.”
She blinks. “What?”
I nod, my lips pressing into a flat grimace as I remember the gift I got not long ago in the locker room. “A teddy bear with a card that said,I remember. Do you?”
Mila pales. “I got that message too. But just in a text.”
She hesitates. “I saw the McLendon fight on TV. He cross-checked you pretty hard.”
“Yeah. He clocked me good. He’s obviously still holding a grudge.”
Her blue eyes hold mine. “Still so many people that hate us for doing the right thing.”
After a long beat, I say, “Ryan DeLuca came to one of my games. Threw a bottle at me. Called me a traitor.”
Mila’s hands tighten around her mug.
“So yeah,” I say. “Still alotof people who fucking hate us.”
Mila sighs. “What do we do?”
I hesitate, considering my options. While it’s the last thing I want to do—so deep has been my conviction to keep everyone on the team far away from me, I can’t keep everyone in the dark. “I think I need to let the team know what’s going on. The organization, at least.”
Mila’s brows lift slightly. “You trust them?”
I don’t answer right away. Because the truth is—I don’t know.
