Everything with you

Part 65

Justin

We had just one more day.

One day till the game that could change everything—for UCLA, for the team, for me.

I'd somehow managed to keep Coach from losing it over Nate's absence today. Told him Nate had a stomach bug, mild food poisoning—whatever sounded mildly believable. Coach had looked suspicious, but with the finals looming this close, he didn't press too hard. We have no practice tomorrow, just team strategy and light recovery drills. Which meant tonight was our last chance to figure out what the hell we were going to do about Henry before he tightened his grip even more.

The living room had turned into a war room.

Dad and Mr. Reynolds were already present when we walked in earlier. Nate's dad didn't show up much—he traveled too often, meetings in different cities, always somewhere new—but I never once doubted that if Nate was in trouble, he'd be here. And here he was, in a perfectly pressed suit, sleeves rolled up like he was ready to get his hands dirty.

Emma was sitting next to me now, unusually quiet. I could still feel how tense she'd been in the car—her mind clearly somewhere else. I hadn't had a second to ask what was going on with her, but the way she stared off into the distance while absentmindedly twisting a piece of her hair told me something was up. I filed it away for later.

Ash and Joel walked in just then, both carrying their backpacks and wearing matching expressions of quiet determination. Ash greeted Mr. Reynolds with a small nod and a polite "Good to see you, sir," while Joel dropped his bag by the couch and gave me a look that said, Let's do this.

I stood up and cleared my throat, drawing everyone's attention.

"Alright," I began, "we don't have much time. Henry's already gotten to a couple guys on the team. We don't know how far this goes, and we're not sure what he's planning, but if we don't move fast, we're walking into that final with a loaded gun to our heads."

Mr. Reynolds leaned back in the armchair, arms folded. "So what's the plan, boys?"

I looked around the room at my team—my people—and started laying it out.

"Ash, you and Joel are going to hit the locker room tonight," I said. "Check for anything out of place—cash, missing gear, anything weird. Henry's not subtle. If he's paid anyone off, there'll be a trail."

Ash gave a short nod. "Got it. I'll bring the scanner. Just in case."

Joel added, "I'll cross-check everyone's GPS history from our locker app. If someone was meeting Henry, their phones will rat them out."

"Good," I said, then turned to Nate. "You've still got a few contacts from your dad's firm, right?"

Nate smirked, rubbing his bruised jaw. "I've already texted one of them. He's digging through Henry's business records and contracts. If Henry moved money recently, we'll know."

I nodded in approval, then looked at Emma, whose eyes snapped to mine, surprised.

"Em, you're going to help my dad and Mr. Reynolds pull together anything we have on Henry from the past. We need to gather information from various sources such as news articles, blog posts, and gossip. We need to find something we can leak. A threat. A distraction."

She blinked, then gave a firm nod. "Okay."

Mr. Shepard, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. "I'll make some calls. I've got friends in the Athletic Committee. If Henry tries to strong-arm the officials or refs, I'll make sure someone's watching him."

"Same," Mr. Reynolds added. "I've got ears at the federation. If Henry so much as breathes in the wrong direction, we'll know."

I exhaled slowly, running a hand down my face before speaking. "Henry told me he had a lot of money riding on this game. Way too much to be clean. It couldn't just be bribes from rich bettors or shady deals—he's got to have a source. And if we can prove it, trace the cash, find where it's coming from... it could be enough to lock him up."