I have no clue if Jacob’s the type to stay attached to his phone. I have no clue if he’s busy at this moment, perhaps on the ice practicing with his own team. But I’m not going to wait around. I count to ten very slowly and then dial his number.
He picks up on the third ring. His irritation evident. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I drawl, hoping to poke at his ridiculous grudge. “You hate my guts. But this isn’t about me.”
That takes the wind out of his sails and he sounds curious. “Then what’s it about?”
“Mila Brennan.”
There’s a long silence before he murmurs, “What about her?”
I have no clue what Jacob feels about Mila. I have to assume he knows, just like all the others who got their information via the grapevine that Mila turned in her brother and the guys. For that reason alone, he should hate her as much as he hates me. But Mila was a good kid, a sweet girl who all the guys felt protective of. Maybe there’s still some of that within Jacob.
“She’s in Pittsburgh. She’s been getting violent threats and she’s scared. Her brother’s being released from prison in a few days. I need to know if you’ve heard anything.”
McLendon exhales, and I hear rustling on his end—maybe shifting in his seat. “I haven’t talked to Peter or Jace since they got locked up. I don’t know shit about what’s going on.”
I close my eyes for a beat, frustration simmering under my skin. “Yeah, well, someone’s been sending her messages. Emails. Texts. Detailed shit.”
McLendon is quiet, then, “What kind of threats?”
“The kind that if it ever happened to your sister, you’d tear the person apart with your bare hands just for them thinking it.” I keep my voice even. “They started a few months ago. She’s getting texts from an unknown number, emails that can’t be traced. They mention Nathan. They mention me. They say she’s gonna pay for what she did and describe exactly how. She’s not safe.”
McLendon curses. “Jesus.” I hear the faint creak of a chair, like he’s leaning back, thinking. “You think it’s Peter?”
“He’s top of my list since he’s getting out. But there’s no way he’s got the ability to send these messages. Someone could be helping him, and then there’s the fact it’s her brother. No matter how much he hates her, would he hurt her?”
“Could be Jace.” McLendon sounds doubtful, though. “But he’s been out a year. Why start now?”
I shake my head. “That’s what I don’t get. He’s had plenty of time to come after her if he wanted to, but he could be the one helping Peter if it’s him.”
McLendon is silent for a second, then says, “Ryan and Colton?”
I frown. “You know where they are?”
“Ryan’s in St. Paul. Last I heard, he’s working in real estate, married, couple of kids. Colton’s still in Minnesota too—owns a gym.” McLendon exhales. “I don’t see them doing this, though. Those guys… they were pissed when everything happened, but they moved the fuck on.”
“Ryan showed up at one of my games, threw a water bottle at me and called me a traitor. I don’t think he’s moved on.”
Neither has Jacob, and he confirms that by saying, “Well, it’s what you are.”
I ignore the barb because no matter how much we despise each other, he could know something important. “So, you don’t think it’s Ryan or Colton. That leaves Peter or Jace.”
“I don’t know, man,” McLendon mutters. “But if they are behind it, then yeah, you’ve got a problem. Those guys did some serious time.”
No shit. And it’s because of me and Mila.
I hesitate for half a second, then force the words out. “If you do hear anything, will you let me know?”
There’s no pause or reluctance. I suppose the fact it’s Mila that’s in danger softens him. “Yeah. Of course I will.”
It’s not much, but it’s more than I expected. I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Thanks.”
McLendon scoffs. “Don’t thank me. I still hate your fucking guts.”
I smirk despite myself. “Feeling’s mutual.”
The line clicks dead.
