Chasing the puck

Chapter Twenty-One

The sun crept into the apartment, its rays doing little to warm the tension between Tyler and Sarah. The cryptic message glowed on Tyler’s phone screen, ominous in its simplicity: “There’s more to this than you know. Someone on your team has been pulling the strings. Be careful.”

Tyler’s eyes, narrowed with suspicion and anger, flicked between the message and the window. He couldn’t shake the burning sense of betrayal. His hands clenched into fists as the idea of one of his own teammates working against him swirled like a storm cloud in his mind. Sarah stood nearby, her arms crossed protectively across her chest, watching him. The early morning quiet only amplified the weight of the message.

Tyler let out a harsh breath, his voice tight. “This can’t be real. One of my own teammates? Someone I trust? How could this happen?”

Sarah approached cautiously, resting her hand on his arm. “We don’t know who sent it or why, Tyler. But we can’t rush into anything. If someone’s sabotaging you, we need to figure out who and why before you confront anyone.”

His eyes flashed with frustration. “Figure out why? Sarah, I’ve done nothing but wait. This is the last straw. I’m done playing defense. Someone’s screwing with my life, my career, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

“I get it, I do,” Sarah replied, her voice calm but firm. “But you can’t go at this without a plan. What if you accuse the wrong person? What if it backfires?”

Tyler shook his head, pacing the length of the small kitchen. “I don’t care. I’m done sitting back and letting this happen. It’s time for action.” His fists tightened as he walked back to the table, glaring down at the phone as if the message itself were a physical threat.

Sarah watched him, her own mind racing with the implications of his words. She could feel his rage radiating from him like heat, but she couldn’t let him spiral out of control. “We need proof, Tyler. You can’t confront anyone yet. We’ll talk to Preston, see if he’s noticed anything off with the team. But please—promise me you won’t go in guns blazing.”

Tyler stopped, breathing heavily. “Fine. We’ll talk to Preston. But if he doesn’t have answers…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but the threat in his voice was clear.

Later that afternoon, they sat in a busy café, the sounds of conversation and clinking coffee cups filling the air around them. Tyler, leaning forward on the small round table, was tapping his fingers impatiently. Sarah sat beside him, her hand resting lightly on his knee, trying to keep him grounded. Preston slid into the seat opposite them, his brow furrowed with concern.

“So, you think this message is real?” Preston asked, leaning in, his voice low.

Tyler shoved his phone across the table, the message displayed. “Read it for yourself. You tell me who else would know all this.” His tone was sharp, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Preston’s eyes scanned the screen, his face growing more serious by the second. “This is bad, man. Real bad. If someone on the team is working against you, it’s going to tear everything apart. We can’t rush this. We need to tread lightly.”

Sarah nodded, her voice calm but resolute. “We don’t have proof yet. If you confront someone without it, it’ll only make things worse.”

Tyler’s fist clenched around his cup. “I’m not going to sit around waiting for this to blow up in my face, Preston. We need to know who sent this.”

Preston hesitated, glancing around the café before leaning in closer. “There’s been talk… Mark’s been getting close to some people, and he’s been stirring the pot. I don’t want to accuse anyone outright, but if I had to guess…”