Page 113 of Line Change

“Knock, knock,” Bash says from my open doorway.

I look up, smiling. “Hi.” I wave him into my office, eyes widening when I notice that all the guys, minus Elias, are with him.

“This is for you.” Bash sets a bottle of the lemonade I’ve been obsessed with lately on my desk.

“Thank you.”

He leans over my desk and kisses me before someone, I think Holt, clears his throat. I peer around Bash at the guys crowded in my office.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask.

“We’ve got the proof,” Wes says, stepping forward and handing me a small stack of papers.

I skim through them, my eyebrows hitting my hairline when I realize they’re from my father addressed to different people. All of them offer a lump sum of money for targeting certain Storm players. It’s the last one that shocks me the most.

To: [email protected]

From: J.J.admin@j_jhotelsemail.com

Re: Assistance Required

M,

Remember the favor you owe me? Well, I’m calling it in. I need some investigations not to happen. I’ll call you with the details.

JJ

“This was sent to someone on the Player Safety Board,” I say, holding up the email.

“Not just anyone, the guy who decides whether or not a player will appear before them,” Hunter says.

“How exactly did you get these?”

“The PI Elias hooked me up with dug them up,” Bash says.

“How exactly?” My gaze flickers between Bash and the other guys.

“We kind of gave him this, and he went from there.” Wes hands me a couple more pieces of paper, which are emails all from the same sender.

“We didn’t ask too many questions,” Bash says.

“I hope it was legal.” But at the same time, I don’t care if it means my father and everyone involved with him are going to be exposed. “How did you get these emails?”

“We got them last week from one of my old linemates who got them from one of his teammates,” Wes says.

I knew Bash and Wes had coffee with Wes’s old teammate but not that he gave them any proof.

Bash must read the confusion on my face because he says, “We didn’t want to tell you until the PI finished investigating in case he came up with nothing.”

I turn to Wes. “Is your friend willing to name names? Or the guy who gave him the emails willing to explain how he got them?”

“Whittaker said he would. I’m sure the other guy could be convinced, especially if it was behind closed doors,” Wes says.

“I can’t promise that, but I’ll bring these to Alex, and hopefully, it’s enough proof.” If it isn’t, then I don’t think we could ever bring the league enough proof for them to care because this sure seems like a smoking gun. And, yeah, there might not be names listed on a few of these emails, but I’m sure someone with the right tech skills could figure it out. “Thanks, guys.” How did I get so lucky? They’re willing to get involved in what could easily be a messy situation. I swallow back the emotions. “I really appreciate all of this.”

“Of course. Anything for the wife of one of our best friends”—Wes squeezes Bash’s arm before turning to me—“and the woman who happens to be carrying my newest niece or nephew.”

I duck my head, feeling my face heating up. “It’s a girl.”