Chapter 10 "I don't know why I agreed to this," I grumble, squinting in the early morning sunlight as I step out of my truck. "At least it's recovery work and not weights first thing." Early morning workouts are usually my jam. Something is invigorating about the air before it's filled with exhaust and bullshit. I think better, breathe better, perform better. But I got out of my routine and haven't been able to find it again. I haven't been eating right, my mind has been cloudy, and I can't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep. And I feel it everywhere. Especially today, since I barely closed my eyes last night. I toss my bag over my shoulder and close the door, locking it behind me. Astrid's face and those fucking green eyes have flashed through my mind a hundred times since she stormed out of the apartment. Anger. Confusion. Pain? It's reminiscent of the same look she had when she left the locker room. It's slightly different from the usual pissed-off vibe she wears around me. Typically, her dirty looks are believable. Pure loathing, which I understand. I don't like her either. But before her exit from the facility and again before she left my apartment, it wasn't just her being mad. Whatever was swimming around those gold flecks has eaten away at me. It's kept me up. It's gnawed at my gut. "Fuck," I mutter, tucking my chin to my chest against the chill. I slide a hand in my pocket, only to feel it buzz. Again. And again. And again. "These assholes." I don't have to look to see who it is because I already did that ... when Nico and Ridge started sending memes to the team chat at five thirty this morning. As annoying as it was, some of them were funny. None, however, was as hilarious as Chase's reaction since someone added him back to the chat against his will. I'm about to silence the whole damn thing when the vibration changes, and it begins to ring. My brows pull together as I yank it from my pocket. Chuck's name is displayed across the top of the screen. "Good morning, Chuck," I say carefully. Why is he calling so early in the day? "Probably not." I stop just a few steps from the front door. My heart skips a beat, then two. I swear I can hear my ribs cracking with the heaviness of the moment squatting on my chest. "Why is that?" He sighs. "What the fuck did you do, Adler?" Huh? I nod, acknowledging a couple of guys as they arrive at the facility. "I hope you have answers because I sure as hell don't." Chuck is clearly ready to throttle me. "I got the cancelation notice about fifteen minutes ago. Care to explain?" My fingers grow cold, a chill creeping through each digit as if my body pulls all my blood to my center to keep my vital organs working. I stand in place with my gaze fixed on the gate to the pitch. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Dammit, Adler." I blow out a breath, trying desperately not to lose my shit. "What cancelation?" "Your bonus." My bonus? "Wait-what?" I pace toward the gate, sure I misunderstood him. Or, at the very least, I'm overthinking this. "What happened? Did they cancel a payment? It'll be another week or something?" "No. They canceled it altogether. I have a call in to Brewer to see what the fuck happened, but that's all I know. Are you telling me you don't know?" "No, I don't fucking know," I say, running a hand over the top of my head. "It's gotta be a mistake. Why would they do that?" "Again, I have a call in, and I'll let you know when I know something. So you haven't gotten into any trouble there?" "No," I snap. He blows out a breath as if he's over the day already. "Then go on about your morning, and I'll let you know as soon as I hear something. If you haven't done something to expressly void your contract, then I'll fight back on this, obviously." "I'd fucking hope so." "All right. Talk to you soon." The line goes dead. I squeeze the phone so hard that something crunches. I'm not sure if it's the device or my bones-and I don't really care which one might be broken. I'm so fucking pissed. Ideas, situations, and probabilities spin around in my head, trying to land on the reason this is happening. Surely, it's a mistake. It must be. Because if it's not ... I'm fucked. A cold sweat trickles down my back despite the cool temperature. Why is Renn doing this? What's the point? I jerk the collar of my hoodie away from my neck, clawing at the fabric to make room to breathe. When I turn around, Jory is holding the door open and watching me. "Are you okay?" he asks with genuine concern written on his face. "Yeah. No. I don't know." I exhale and shrug, frustration setting up residence in my shoulders. "You good?" He motions for me to enter the lobby ahead of him. "Better than you, by the looks of it." "At this point, it wouldn't take much." The building is quiet with just a few bodies shuffling around this early. The first rays of the sun beam in, illuminating the space with a promise of a bright day. It would be inspiring if my day hadn't just taken a nosedive into the fiery pits of hell. "I'm gonna grab a protein shake before we head back," Jory says. "Want one?" "I ..." My gaze shifts to movement at the elevator bank. Renn is stepping out, his attention focused on his phone. "I'm good. Thanks." "See ya back there," Jory says. My feet move toward Renn before my brain makes the decision. I clutch the strap of my bag at my shoulder and remind myself to stay calm. It's probably just a mistake. "Good morning," I say, struggling to keep from clenching my teeth. Renn's head snaps up. There's no smile, no offer of a handshake. Fuck. "Hey, I just got a call from Chuck ..." I'm not sure how to explain my question, or what words to use to get the point across. "Yeah. Why don't you come up to my office?" "Sure." We stand shoulder to shoulder in the elevator as Renn types away on his phone. His nonchalance about this, like taking thousands of dollars out of my hands is no big deal, makes me want to punch something. Because the longer the ride to the top floor takes, the more panicked I become. He knew what I wanted to talk about without me saying it. Something is very, very wrong. He leads me past cubicles and staff members having breakfast at their desks. He's cordial to everyone who speaks to him-but few do. It's clear he's focused on business. What is happening? "Come in and shut the door," he says, walking into his office and rounding the corner of his desk. I shut it softly and drop my bag beside the same chair I sat in the last time I was here. "Have a seat." Renn sits behind the stately desk and rocks back in the leather chair. He waits until I get comfortable before speaking. "I invited you up here because I don't discuss financials in front of players, and I assume that's what you were talking with Chuck about this morning." "Yeah. With all due respect, what the fuck?" "Hey, the contract conditions were very clear, and you and I went over them together." I nod, bewildered. "I agree." "You broke the contract, and I'm not in the business of paying out that kind of money for no reason. So the bonus is recalled." I grip the armrests, holding myself steady. "You broke the contract." What? I'm speechless. Disoriented. I replay the sentence again, like I can roll it over repeatedly, and it'll eventually be polished and make sense. "Do I just let this season play out and deal with it at the end?" he asks. "Or do I assign you someone new and hope you can manage to work with them in a respectful manner? These are questions I'm pondering this morning." "Whoa, wait a second." I sit up, finding a break in the fog. "Why would you assign me someone new? Where's Astrid?" "She quit." Static infiltrates my brain, making every thought fuzzy. There's a tug-of-war inside my head. She quit. Why do I have to give up my bonus? But also ... why did she walk away? "Any other questions?" Renn asks. When my gaze shifts to him, it's met with a pointed stare that feels a lot like I'm to blame for this. "I guess the first thing I want to understand is why I lose my bonus if she's the one who quit." "She quit with cause." I lift a brow as a hot brick burns a hole in my stomach. "Astrid feels uncomfortable working with you, and I refuse to ask her to continue doing something that makes her feel that way." I flinch, struggling to repair the apparent disconnect between my brain and my ears. I hear what he's saying, but I sure as fuck don't understand it. A cold chill snakes lazily down my spine as the memory of how she looked at me last night comes back to me. Renn leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk. "I don't know what happened between the two of you, but I will tell you this. Astrid Lawsen is one of the smartest, most capable, and most respectable women I know. It takes a lot to rattle her, Gray. It takes a lot to get under the shield she carries around every day. It's unfortunate that the first person to do that was you." I lean forward and bury my head in my hands. Renn knows Astrid, so he must know that she's not a female you have to walk on eggshells around. She's not exactly a doormat waiting to be trampled. She does the trampling. Sure, things between us may not have been a walk in the park, but she gave as good as she got. And she just quits? And I get fucked? I lift my head, suppressing a groan. Renn sits back again, this time crossing one ankle over his other knee. He peers at me with a look that I can't quite name, and it makes me fidget in my seat. He and Astrid are close, so I get that he'd listen to her ... but I need that damn bonus. There are no other options. I blow out a hasty breath. "Can we talk about this?" "There's nothing to talk about." "She hated me before she even knew who I was." I have one shot at convincing him to hear me out. If I don't take it now, I'll never get it again. "How do you know she didn't quit just to screw me over? Wouldn't it be more logical to give me an assistant who doesn't dislike me from the jump?" "No." "No?" I scoot to the edge of my seat, imploring him to listen. "Why her? I mean, I don't understand why you think I need a babysitter to begin with, but why her? Why not someone else?" I groan, slapping my knees as I sit back. "You can't just do this. You can't fuck me over like this." Renn shoves away from his desk and stands. "I brought you here because you're a highly skilled player," he says, his jaw ticking. "But I also brought you here to keep you from ruining your life." I flinch at his words. "Do you think I pay my players what I do without investigating them first?" he asks. "We have the highest payroll in the league-by far. Do you think I just sign those checks without knowing who I'm writing them to?" This can't be right. "No, but⁠-" "No one is fucking you over, Adler." I laugh in disbelief. "Oh really?" "Yeah. Really." He rolls the cuffs of his shirtsleeves up his forearms. "You think everyone is against you, but it's really you against yourself. Face the facts." "I didn't realize you were a philosopher on the side." He pins me in my seat with a sharp look. "Look around. I'm doing just fine for myself. It would behoove you to shut your mouth and take notes." If it were anyone else in the world saying those things, we'd brawl. "I see me in you," he says. "I've not been exactly where you are right now, but I can imagine it." "You can imagine it?" I lift a brow, not sure what he knows. Doubtful that Renn Brewer could ever understand my shit. "I find that hard to believe." Renn finishes his sleeve and adjusts it to his liking before he looks at me again. Once he does, I know the truth. He's done his research. He knows. The room closes in, the walls rapidly encroaching. My heart kicks into overdrive, rushing blood through my veins at warp speed. I haven't discussed this at length with anyone-not Brooks, not Hartley. No one. I'm not prepared to talk to Renn about it, and I sure as fuck don't want to talk about it now. Everything feels urgent, and I'm desperate with no direction. My life is slipping through my fingers, and I'm watching it happen. No matter how tightly I curl them, I can't stop the grains from falling to the floor. "A few years ago, my father did some very unscrupulous things to my family," he says, his temple throbbing. "He's now living the rest of his life in a cage-that's how bad it was." I still. "So I've been through some shit, my friend," he says. "And I've battled a lot of demons. A lot of guilt. I've maneuvered a lot of blame." He takes a breath, and it feels like the room does, too. "Do you know what I've learned?" I subtly shake my head. "Every loss doesn't mean someone fumbled." He tosses that into the room with the casualness of a weather report. He plants both hands on his desk and levels his attention on me. "I brought you here to try to save you-to give you an opportunity to save yourself. If you don't want to do that, that's on you. But you won't take Astrid down, too." I rest my elbows on my knees and hang my head. His words slice me like a thousand papercuts. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if I was prepared-but I wasn't. I wasn't ready to have things brought to the surface and shoved in my face. I didn't want to look in this mirror. As hard as it is to hear, knowing that Renn has some idea of what I'm going through does marginally ease the burden. Just enough to breathe. That small opening reduces the fog in my head and lets me think clearly. And the first thought that comes through the haze is Astrid. She's uncomfortable working with me. Renn's statement echoes throughout my body, winding through my veins like venom. The words are deliberate. She doesn't just dislike working with me, and she doesn't just hate me. She's uncomfortable with me. Flashes of our interaction in the locker room come rolling back. The words I chose. The way I chose to deliver them. The impact they might've had ... "But you won't take Astrid down, too." Those thoughts are followed by the memory of her standing in my living room, holding that fucking picture, and the fury and embarrassment I felt-and that I let get to me. That I let spill over to Astrid. Sure, she's a savage who has poked me as many times as I've needled her. But she's really an innocent bystander in all of this, and she doesn't deserve my bullshit. That look in her eyes? It was pain. I'm no better than Breaker. Fuck. I sit up, fortified by the clarity in the truth, and clear my throat. "I said a few things more ... harshly than Astrid deserved, and I can man up to that." Renn nods. "Is there any chance she'll work with me again?" "There's zero chance I'm asking her to do that." Fair. "What if I talk to her?" That feels a lot like walking into a lion's den right about now, but there's no alternative. And I probably have it coming. His lips twist as he thinks. Finally, he shrugs. "You have until midnight. I can reinstate the bonus before the end of the day. Otherwise, it's over." "Okay." "But if you do get her to agree to this, and you ever push her to this point again ..." His look is cold. Lethal. "Don't do it. Let's leave it at that." "Understood." "Now get out of here," he says, shooing me toward the door. "You've wasted enough of my day." I get up, grab my bag, and rush to the door. Before I open it, though, I turn to him. "Renn?" He looks up from his computer. "Thanks," I say, swallowing hard. "For all that." "Pay me back by bringing a title to Nashville. Now go." "Yes, sir." I step into the hallway, yanking my phone out of my pocket before Renn's door is even closed. Astrid's name is in my recent text log, and I click on it. Me: Can we talk?