Page 86 of Ice Devil

“That’s right. They cut the part where Jesse slid the questions in front of me. I bet everyone is laughing at my stupidity. A rookie move on my part.”

“I think you’re forgetting that you discovered the truth. Someone did pay off the Cincinnati officials so Beck could continue playing.”

“Who? I checked into the story and it was a non-story, so who told you that, Matt?” I got in his face, thankful I’d worn heels. I only did so when I was really pissed off. And my blood had boiled all day long. “You refused to allow me to clear up what happened at the game. Why?”

“Because I was and still am trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? Right. The crap being said about Beck being violent and unable to be controlled is wrong. I need to write that article.”

“Not for this newspaper you won’t.”

My God, the man had drawn a line in the sand. What I wanted to do was to quit, but it wasn’t the right time. Not until I had a chance to talk to Beck and find out what in the hell was going on. I’d kept my ear to the ground, hearing rumors about Matt and his connection with Walter Braddock. But rumors could mean libel if I wasn’t careful. “Fine. Have it your way.” I continued glaring at him.

“You obviously have lost your touch, Sloane. Maybe you need to take some time off. You got too close to that…”

“To that animal? Is that what you were going to say? I don’t need to take time off. I need to ensure those bastards don’t do that to anyone else.” I moved around him, fighting my serial killer urges. I’d start with him, head to wherever Jesse and Kyle were holed up and keep going from there.

He appeared hurt. Again. Another farce. Again. I was growing weary of the game we’d played since accusing him of sleeping with a girl half his age, which had meant she’d been close to jailbait. Not his finest hour. Meanwhile I’d laughed all the way to a bar.

“I don’t why you insist on thinking the worst of me,” he finally said.

I stopped long enough to turn around and honestly answer that question. “Because you bring it on yourself. I don’t know what your intentions are, but what you did was horrible.”

“You’re too close to Beck Kendrick.”

“So what if I am? Or was thanks to you and your bigoted buddies.”

“Oh, for God’s sake. I’m not bigoted. You know that. We wrote articles together on the discrimination in sports. As well as in politics.”

“That was eons ago. All you care about is money.”

“Beck Kendrick is a violent man. Whether it’s because he’s a shifter or not, that’s the truth. If you think about it, I potentially saved you from…”

There it was again, only he was trying to goad me this time to see how tight with Beck I’d become. It was time to fight fire with fire. “You know what? Maybe you’re right and I’m too close to this.”

He was surprised but nodded. I allowed him to walk closer without finding the closest stapler so I could affix his hand to a desk.

“I’m tired and I don’t like the way Jesse and Kyle handled the situation. At all.”

“I can understand. Incidentally, I did stop them from filing charges against you. The assault was brutal.”

I wondered if he’d try to hold that over my head. “My hero.”

At least I’d used my saccharin voice, which he’d always liked.

“I hope to always be that.”

“If you don’t mind, I will take a few days off.”

“Absolutely. You’ve earned it. Besides, it appears the Wild Dogs won’t be snatching another Stanley Cup this year.”

If the man wanted to continue testing me, he’d learn what a vise felt like on his genitals. “Let me guess. The Las Vegas Cruisers are winning the odds pools. Right?”

“Yes, they are.”

I took a deep breath, twisting my hand around the leather strap of my laptop case, and offered a bigger, honey-dipped smile this time. “Well, I’m going to go book a flight to Jamaica. I hear the men there are fuckable. Even better. I don’t need to hear them lie.”

A few days off.