Chapter 14 Elyse

I stare at Jack, my heart shattering into a million pieces. His words cut deep, leaving me feeling lost and alone. "You really want to stop seeing each other publicly? What does that even mean?"

Jack's jaw clenches, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "It means we can't be together openly. Not for now, at least."

"But why?" My voice cracks with the strain of holding back tears. "I thought we had something real."

Frustration etched on his face. "We do, Elyse. Believe me, this is the last thing I want, but Karina is dangerous. If she finds out about us, there's no telling what she might do."

"It's for your own protection." Jack's eyes plead with me to understand. "I can't let anything happen to you because of my past mistakes."

Anger flares within me, hot and fierce. "That's not your decision to make, Jack. I'm not some fragile doll that needs protecting."

He steps closer gently gripping my shoulders. "You don't know Karina like I do. She's unhinged. If she finds out about us, she'll stop at nothing to make our lives a living hell."

I pull away from his touch, my heart racing. "So that's it? We just…end things before they've even begun?"

Jack's expression crumbles, and for a moment, I see the depth of his pain. "I don't want to end this, but I have to put your safety first, even if it means sacrificing my own happiness."

"And mine too, in spite of what I want?" Tears stream down my cheeks as I struggle to process his words. Part of me wants to fight, to demand that we face this together, but a larger part is terrified—not of Karina, but of losing Jack entirely. "I need…I need some time," I manage to choke out. "To think about all this."

He nods, his eyes glistening. "Take all the time you need."

With those parting words, he turns and walks away, leaving me alone with my shattered dreams and a heart that feels like it's been ripped from my chest.

***

The following couple of days pass in a blur of confusion and heartache. I go through the motions at work, my mind constantly replaying Jack's words. Dervin Kobin notices my distraction and pulls me aside.

"Miss Masterson, you're not focused," he admonishes. "If this case is too much for you, say the word, and I'll reassign you."

I shake my head, determination settling in my bones. I'm glad I've been delaying speaking to him about this case being a conflict of interest for me. I need something upon which to focus. "No, sir. I can handle this."

Kobin arches an eyebrow, studying me intently. "Are you sure? This is a high-stakes case, and we can't afford any slip-ups."

"I'm sure," I say steadily. "In fact, I think it's time I dug a little deeper into Coach Matthews' activities."

Kobin's lips curve into a satisfied smile. "That's what I like to hear. Keep me updated on your progress."

***

Sam is pouring coffee when I join him. "Morning," I say cheerily, though I'm still feeling sour about the confrontation with Jack, and that we've been avoiding each other for two days. "I have a meeting this morning, so can I borrow your car?"

He frowns. "You want me to let you drive the BMW?"

I nod, grinning as I pour myself a cup. "Why not? I'm a good driver."

He seems to be looking for an excuse to say no. His face lights up. "How would I get to work?"

I already have that answer. "I'll drop you off and promise to come back to pick you up whenever you're finished. Or you could ride home with Jack." It hurts to say his name.

He frowns as he considers my request. "I don't know, Elyse. That's a pretty sweet ride."

I roll my eyes playfully. "Come on, it's me. When have I ever mistreated a car?"

He chuckles. "Fair point, but still, it's a BMW. You know how much those things cost?"

"More than I can afford, I'm sure." I grin, undeterred. "Which is why you should let your trustworthy sister borrow it. I'll treat it like it's my own."

Sam narrows his eyes, clearly weighing the pros and cons. Finally, he sighs. "All right, fine, but if you so much as get a scratch on it, you're paying for the repairs."

"Deal." I beam, snatching the keys from his outstretched hand. "Now, where are you parked?"

He directs me to the underground garage, and I slide behind the wheel of the sleek black sedan, reveling in the luxurious interior. As I start the engine, the powerful purr sends a thrill through me.

"Try not to have too much fun," teases Sam, buckling his seatbelt.

I shoot him a wink. "No promises."

The drive to the Firebirds' practice facility is a short one, but I savor every minute, relishing the smooth handling and responsive acceleration. When we arrive, Sam leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek.

"Thanks for the ride, sis. I'll see you later."

"Anytime," I say, watching as he jogs toward the entrance.

With Sam gone, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the task ahead. Dervin had been clear in his instructions—gather as much information as possible about Coach Matthews' treatment of the players. My connection to Sam and Jack gives me a unique opportunity I can't afford to squander.

The team's doctor, Dr. Kleiner, is my best bet for insider knowledge. I spot him entering through a side door and quickly follow, catching up to him in the hallway.

"Dr. Kleiner? Hi, I'm Elyse Masterson, Sam's sister."

He turns, eyeing me curiously. "Miss Masterson. What can I do for you?"

I hesitate, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I…I was hoping we could talk about Coach Matthews."

Kleiner's expression darkens. "I see, and what, exactly, do you want to know?"

Emboldened by his reaction, I press on. "I'm aware of the allegations against him—the cover-ups, the intimidation tactics, and forcing players to keep playing with life-altering injuries. I need to know if they're true."

He studies me for a long moment, seeming to weigh his options. Finally, he nods, his shoulders sagging. "Yes, it's all true. Every word."

Relief and dread wash over me in equal measure. "Can you give me specifics? Details I can use to build a case against him?"

Dr. Kleiner glances around furtively before leaning in closer. "Matthews has been pressuring players to play through injuries for years. He's threatened careers, livelihoods, and even players' family lives—anything to keep his star players on the ice. When they do get hurt, he intervenes with their treatment, overriding my medical advice."

My stomach churns at his words. "That's…unconscionable."

"It gets worse." His voice drops to a whisper. "He's been paying off players and staff to keep them quiet. Hush money, threats—you name it. The man is a menace, and he needs to be stopped."

"But why go along with it?" I ask. "Surely, you could have reported him?"

Dr. Kleiner shakes his head wearily. "I tried, believe me, but Matthews has connections and powerful people in his corner. Anyone who speaks out risks ruining their career and their life. I have a family to support, Miss Masterson. I couldn't take that risk."

I nod. "Don't worry, Dr. Kleiner. I'll make sure he pays for what he's done."

As I turn to leave, he calls out one last time. "Be careful, Miss Masterson. Matthews has eyes and ears everywhere. If he catches wind of what you're doing, there's no telling how far he'll go to protect himself."

His warning sends a chill down my spine, but I refuse to be deterred. This is bigger than me and the Firebirds. It's about justice, and I won't rest until it's served.

***

I need to hurry once I leave the Firebirds' facility, so I'm not late for my meeting. When I arrive and find parking, I have to double check the address. This part of town is seedy, and the pub where I'm meeting Vince Halstrom has seen many better days.

The heavy oak door creaks open, and I step into the dimly lit bar, my gaze immediately landing on the lone figure hunched over the counter. Vince Halstrom, former Firebirds defenseman, and the man who filed the lawsuit against Coach Matthews and the Firebirds owner.

He looks up as I approach, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Can I help you?"

"Mr. Halstrom?" I extend my hand. "I'm Elyse Masterson, Sam's sister."

Recognition flashes across his face, and he shakes my hand firmly. "The lawyer's intern and a hockey player's sister, huh? Curiosity got me to agree to meet you, so what do you want?"

I slide onto the barstool next to him. "I was hoping you could tell me about your experience with Coach Matthews."

Vince lets out a bitter laugh. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"I don't see the point in wasting time." I lean forward, lowering my voice. "I need to know what really happened, Vince. The truth, no matter how ugly."

He studies me for a long moment, as if weighing my sincerity. Finally, he nods, his shoulders sagging. "All right, you want the truth? Matthews is a monster."

I brace myself as Vince launches into his tale, the words tumbling out in a torrent.

"It started a couple years back. During an intense practice, I took a bad hit…from Sam Masterson."

I gasp at the revelation, finally understanding why Jack and Sam were so insistent on me not digging into this. "It was an accident, surely?" My brother would never deliberately injure anyone, and certainly not a teammate. I'm convinced of that, but it might seem different to Vince.

He nods. "Don't misunderstand. I've got nothing against Sam, which is why his name isn't on the lawsuit. We were in a skirmish, and he made a good move. It just wasn't good for my knee. It messed me up. The team doc said I needed surgery and time off to recover, but Matthews wouldn't hear of it. Kept insisting I could play through the pain, and I was being soft."

Vince's hands clench into fists, his knuckles whitening. "I should've listened to the doc, but Matthews…he has a way of getting into your head, you know? Starts questioning your dedication, your loyalty to the team. Next thing I knew, I was back on the ice, pushing through agony with every stride."

He shakes his head, a haunted look in his eyes. "It only made the injury worse. By the time I finally went under the knife, the damage was too severe. The surgery couldn't fix it all."

"So you sued," I prompt gently.

"Damn right I did," he says bitterly. "Matthews forced me to play injured, and it cost me my career." His gaze drops to the space beside his stool, and I gasp at the sight of a cane resting there. "I'll never even walk without a damned cane again. He deserves to rot for what he did."

I place a hand on his arm, offering what little comfort I can. "I'm so sorry, Vince. You shouldn't have had to go through that."

He meets my gaze, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "The worst part is, I'm not the only one. Matthews has been pulling this shit for years, threatening players and covering up injuries. He's a cancer, and if he's not stopped, more lives will be ruined."

A shiver runs down my spine at the intensity of his words. "Is…is that why you agreed to talk to me? To help expose him?"

Vince nods solemnly. "Someone needs to bring that bastard down, and if you're the one to do it, so be it. Just be careful, Ms. Masterson. Matthews is a dangerous man, and he won't go down without a fight."

As if on cue, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, that eerie feeling of being watched washing over me. I glance around the bar but see no one out of the ordinary.

Vince notices my unease. "You feel that don't you? That's Matthews' reach, always watching, always waiting to strike."

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "What should I do?"

"Keep digging." Vince's voice is urgent. "Get as much dirt on him as you can. Build an airtight case, and for God's sake, watch your back."