Not this time.
And not just because of Addy.
I started walking again, my mind racing in pace with my hurried steps as I made my way through the darkened side streets of the Quarter. Maybe this city wasn't my home yet but I wanted it to be. I'd found friends in my teammates here in New Orleans. I'd discovered a sense of brotherhood I'd been missing with the Bombers because I'd kept everyone away.
I wasn't giving that up without a fight and I didn't give a shit about contracts and clauses and waivers. I'd find a way. I had a reputation for breaking all the rules and I wasn't about to back down now, even if I didn't have a fucking clue how to go about it just yet.
I glanced at the numbers on the buildings then backtracked until I came to the right one. A wrought-iron gate blocked the way through a small opening in the aged brick and I pushed against it, only to realize it was locked. There was a small intercom attached to the wall and I pushed the button, waiting to hear Jacqui's voice, or even Addy's. A buzzer sounded instead, followed by the metallic click of the gate unlocking.
I stepped through and closed it behind me until I heard the latch catch then made my way back to the small courtyard and over to the steps that would take me to Jacqui's apartment. I paused just outside the door, ran one hand through my hair and adjusted my tie, then rapped my knuckles against the wood.
A minute went by, then another, long enough that I started to wonder if I was at the wrong place. Or maybe this was the right place and Addy didn't want to see me. She hadn't responded to any of my texts, hadn't answered any of my calls. Maybe Jacqui had been lying when she'd said—
The door opened and Addy stood in front of me, the long waves of her dark hair framing her face and falling around her shoulders. I started forward, wanting to pull her into my arms, needing to hold her. The shadows of uncertainty filling her eyes as she stared up at me stopped me before I could take a single step. The bottom of my stomach dropped open and a blast of icy air engulfed me from the inside out. I swallowed and forced a smile I didn't feel to my face.
"Hey." I shifted my weight from one foot to the other then ran a hand through my hair again. "Can I come in?"
I hated the pleading in my voice, hated the uncertainty pressing against me. I held my breath, fully expecting the door to close in my face. The air fled my lungs in a rush of relief when Addy stepped back and motioned me inside.
I glanced around, taking in the overstuffed furniture upholstered in bright colors. The mismatched throw pillows scattered on the sofa. The framed artwork hanging from the walls.
And the curious gaze from the woman lounging in the armchair, her jet black hair pulled away from her face and held in place by a headband of some sort. The fingers of her manicured hand were wrapped around a martini glass. She slowly raised it, taking a careful sip as I stood there, my gaze locked to hers. She was silently judging me, waiting to see what I would do, and I knew with a certainty I couldn't explain that this was some kind of test—at least on her part. If I passed, I'd gain her blessing and she'd become my biggest ally when it came to Addy.
But if I failed, she'd become my biggest adversary.
I had no intention of failing.
I dipped my head in a nod of acknowledgment, receiving the same in return before shifting my gaze to Addy. She stood near the edge of the sofa, her hands clasped in front of her. She was wearing a pair of pale green flannel lounge pants and a matching top that clung to her curves. Her right foot rocked back and forth, the only sign that she was as nervous as I was.
Jacqui cleared her throat and stood, making a big production of yawning before draining the last of her drink.
"Look how late it is. Almost past my bedtime." She moved to the kitchen and placed the glass in the sink, then palmed the switch on the wall. The room immediately dimmed, the only light coming from the small lamp on the corner table. "You two kids have fun catching up."
Surprise and disbelief flashed across Addy's face as she turned toward her friend. "Jacqui—"
"I'll be in my bedroom if you need anything, just call out. Unless you don't need anything, in which case I won't hear a thing." Jacqui's gaze darted to mine and I expected to see silent warning in their depths. Instead I saw encouragement and something else that surprised me: acceptance. The warning was still there and I'd be a fool to think I'd won her over this fast. She wasn't completely convinced of my intentions but she was willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.
For now.
And that meant more to me than I'd expected it to.
"Just remember what I told you, hockey boy."
"I will."
She made a small humming noise then turned and disappeared through one of the two doors on the other side of the kitchen. I waited to hear the soft click as it closed then turned back to Addy.
"What did she mean by that? What did she tell you?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Did she threaten you?"
"Addy, it doesn't matter."
"She did, didn't she? She shouldn't have. And she wouldn't do anything, not really."
Wouldn't she? I wondered how well Addy really knew her friend if she actually believed that. There was no doubt in my mind that Jacqui would do exactly what she had said she would—and succeed in doing it, too. But Addy didn't need to know that.
I reached for her hand, surprised that she didn't pull away. I was even more surprised when she let me tug her to the sofa and sat beside me. "Why didn't you answer me back? When I sent all those texts."
One shoulder rose and fell in a small shrug. I squeezed her hand, willing her to look over at me, but she kept her gaze focused on her feet.
"Addy—"
"He's going to trade you, isn't he?"
My mouth snapped closed and I sat there, wondering how much to tell her. There was no trading involved—Landry was threatening to put me on waivers to force the termination of my contract. My chances of ever playing hockey again, at least professionally, would end as soon as that happened. The only sliver of hope I had was the fact that it hadn't happened yet and I had no idea why. Neither did my agent.
I didn't want to tell Addy that but I couldn't lie to her, either. So I squeezed her hand and gave her the best answer I could under the circumstances, which was more of a non-answer than anything else. "My agent is working on some things."
"It's my fault."
"It's not your fault."
"Yes, it is. If I hadn't—"
"Hey." I pressed the tip of my finger against her mouth, silencing her. "It's not your fault, Addy. It's not anyone's fault. I've been more worried about you these last two days, especially when you didn't answer. Are you okay? Did anything happen?"
She shook her head then reached up and tucked the hair behind her ear. Her gaze darted to mine, long enough that I could see the shadows of worry in her eyes before she looked away. "I'm fine. And nothing happened. We just—we had a big argument and he...I've never seen my father like that before, so cold and angry. So I left and came here."
"What was the argument about?"
"You. He threatened to—" Her mouth snapped closed and she shook her head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."