Sinful Secrets (Savannah Sharks Hockey and Mafia #2)

Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

SAVANNAH

I stare at my phone, not believing my eyes. My breathing sounds more like panting as my hands shake.

Spencer texted me back. And he wasn’t telling me to go fuck myself.

I reread his text several times, willing my heart to stop trying to pound its way out of my chest.

Meet me after the game and we can talk over dinner. My treat.

If he wants to eat dinner and talk, that must mean he doesn’t hate me. Right?

I take a few deep breaths, feeling like I’m floating on cloud nine. I guess whatever Gage said to him worked.

After I change into my uniform, I turn my phone off and lock it in my locker with the rest of my belongings.

Security just opened the doors for the game and guests are already filing in. Rich aromas from the concourse float through the hallways.

I smile at guests as I walk around, trying to find Avery. The blue and white ribbons in her hair stand out, making it easy to spot her standing next to the Booster Club table.

“Hey, Avery. Where do you need me?”

She spins around, grinning her normal grin. “Hey, Savannah. Come meet the Booster Club.”

She introduces me to the women before we say goodbye, and she drags me downstairs to the Zamboni tunnel.

“For the most part, this is where we work during the game. Well, and the corners.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh really? I didn’t see that listed in the job description.”

Her eyebrows narrow before realization hits her. Her eyes bulge and her mouth falls open. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

I shrug. “Yeah, I know, but it was perfect timing.”

“I mean, I’ve heard rumors about the new owner, but that might be a far stretch.”

I let out a little laugh.

Those rumors might actually be true, but I’m not willing to find out.

“If those services were being provided, then I’m being severely underpaid. Maybe I need to find a sugar daddy.” Her face blushes bright red as she chuckles.

“Maybe you can find an available player.” I clamp my hand over my mouth, not believing those words just came out.

Her chuckles turn into a full on laughing fit. She wipes the tears from her eyes. “My dad would have a stroke and lock me in a tower for the rest of my life.”

“Why? What’s so wrong with the players?”

“Girl, do you not know what my dad does?”

“Uh, a security officer.”

She nods and pulls me to a more secluded area. Whispering, she says, “Yeah, for the team as well as for Arturo Marino himself. Some things Dad has had to make phone calls for in the middle of the night will make prostitution look like kids’ work.”

“Your dad told you this?”

I can’t imagine Arturo letting his employees freely talk about business. Spencer couldn’t talk to me about things, and even when he did, it wasn’t very detailed.

Maybe Spencer didn’t want to talk to me about the mafia. Maybe he doesn’t want me to know all the bad things he’s done.

“No, but I have overheard several phone conversations and put the pieces together. I tried to talk to Dad about it once, a long time ago, but he told me to stay out of it and not worry because he was being paid well.”

This is the type of information the FBI and Detective Carter wanted, but I like Alvin a lot, and would never jeopardize his career or Avery’s.

Avery glances around and raises her voice back to a normal tone and continues.

“Occasionally we help out around the arena. We help the Booster Club pack up their merchandise or help ushers bring the mascot to take pictures with kids. One time we all gathered in the stands for a proposal.”

“Wow, a proposal at a game would be pretty epic.”

“We get a couple every year. Last year, we had a group of seniors leave their prom to come to a game. They were in their ball gowns and tuxedos. The players loved it and even picked up their concessions tab.”

“That was very generous of them.”

“The players do things like that all the time. At least this season they are winning. The past two seasons have been pretty bad and local support was nearly non-existent. That’s one good thing about having Mr. Marino as the new owner. Every game has been sold out.”

I lower my voice until it’s barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I have a feeling it’s not because of the team.”

“You might be right, but who am I to complain?” She laughs and points toward the ice. “Warm-ups are about to start if you want to watch.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping with whatever is going on.”

“I’m sure. I’ll come get you when we need you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back upstairs. Maybe I’ll find a rich guy to sweep me off my feet.” She laughs and skips down the tunnel before disappearing around the corner.

I stand behind the net in the Zamboni tunnel and watch as both teams take the ice. The Savannah Sharks are wearing their blue home jerseys while the other team, the Texas Titans, are wearing white and red jerseys.

The Sharks split up into tiny groups.

A few players skate around this half of the ice, posing for pictures with a child or a fan. Another player tosses a practice puck over the glass.

Several fans wave signs and scream for their favorite player as they drop to the ice to stretch.

As the arena fills, the energy becomes electric.

The players shoot pucks at our net. The goalie smacks several pucks away with his stick and catches a couple in his glove. He only lets in a few.

He’s a fan favorite, and by the way this season is going, I can see why. He has one of the best records in the NHL so far.

I catch Spencer’s gaze as he skates around the back of the net. He doesn’t give me a smile, but he doesn’t frown. It’s almost as if he’s looking right through me.

Maybe dinner and talking aren’t as good of a thing as I hoped. What if he wants to split up for good?

Standing here watching Spencer only leaves me feeling more confused and uneasy. He doesn’t glance my way or come near the net again.

When warm-ups end, Avery leads me to an office and hands me a cardboard sign that reads ‘GET LOUD!’

“You and Christy will stand on this side and will alternate waving your signs during every stoppage. She’s a pro and a great mentor, so I trust she will show you the ropes.” Avery turns around and scurries off, leaving Christy and me alone.

I recognize Christy. She’s the team leader who told me I made the team.

She waves her sign at me. It says ‘YELL.’ “Hi, I’m Christy, and this is my fourth year on the team. Everyone calls me bubbles because I have a big personality. It’s true what they say. Everything is bigger in Texas.”

Her thick southern accent echoes off the walls of the small office.

“I’m Savannah.”

She nods and her blonde hair bounces. “I saw you at tryouts and could tell right away that you were going to be on the team. You just need to work on smiling more. Come on, I’ll show you where we will be.”

She’s bubbly and energetic, like she just downed a dozen shots of espresso. There’s no way I can match her energy, but maybe for a while I can forget about my problems and enjoy being surrounded by her happiness.

I follow her to a small platform where we stand side-by-side facing the crowd.

“Sorry we missed the introductions and the Anthem.”

“We did? We weren’t in the office that long.” I glance behind me to see both benches full of players and staff.

She shrugs. “Long enough I guess.”

The crowd settles down as the game starts.

“So, Christy, if you’re from Texas, how did you end up in Georgia?”

“My husband’s job transferred him here.”

“Husband? You’re married?” My gaze immediately goes to her left hand, where a giant diamond is gleaming in the light.

“High school sweethearts. We got married the day after we graduated from high school. Before you ask, no, we don’t have kids yet, maybe in a couple of years. I want to wait until I’m at least twenty-five.”

“What does your husband do for work?”

“His family owns several resorts and country clubs. They needed someone to run the one here in Savannah, so they sent my husband. I work here because I still want to enjoy my twenties and not be stuck inside the house.”

When the referees blow their whistles, Christy waves her sign to get the crowd pumped.

She looks over at me. “It’s pretty simple, really. Every time the whistle blows, we wave the sign. If whistles continue, that’s usually a sign there’s a fight. I enjoy watching the fights. It gets me going, if you know what I mean.”

She winks and my face burns with embarrassment.

She just admitted to getting turned on by watching the guys fight.

Her arm bumps into mine as she laughs. “Oh, come on, Savannah. You can’t be a prude and be my partner here. It’s only natural to be turned on. Especially from hot athletic guys.”

“I’m not-” I lower my voice to a whisper. “-a prude, but I’m not as open about my private life as you are.”

Besides, isn’t she married? How would her husband feel about her being turned on by other men?

I don’t think Spencer would be cool with me being turned on by his teammates, his friends, or worse, his rivals.

“Just give it some time. You’ll be this open when you meet the one .”

Spencer is the only man I want to be with. He’s the only one who can make me be vocal about my wants and needs.

He’s the only one I want to be open to.

Christy and I take turns waving our signs and smiling at the crowd. Several men make crude jokes that don’t sit well with me, but Christy just laughs at them.

I guess I need more practice to handle all the drunkenness.

When the period comes to a close, Avery rejoins us in the Zamboni tunnel. “For the first intermission, the three of us are going to clean up the melted and dirty ice and move the rubber mats so no one trips.”

I follow Avery and Christy’s lead, moving the rubber mats into their correct positions and taking the buckets of dirty ice and dumping them into a large metal work sink.

Avery wipes her hands on her pants. “That’s everything for us for now, and we still have a couple of minutes to spare. There are snacks and drinks in the office if you want anything.”

Christy bounces on the balls of her feet. “I’m starving.”

Laughing, I follow the women to the office and take the seat next to Christy. I grab a bottle of soda and a small bag of barbeque chips.

Christy grabs a soda and a bag of plain chips. “So Savannah, are you dating anyone?”

I glance between the two women. “Yes. No. Well, it’s kind of complicated.”

Christy leans forward. “Ooh, spill the tea. I need to know.”

How much can I tell them without giving away that I’m dating a player?

“There was a misunderstanding, but I’m hoping after I get off work we can sort it out.”

“If y’all love each other, it will work out. Hell, I have a dozen arguments and misunderstandings with my husband every week and we are still happily married. As long as you take the time to calm down and talk things through, it will be fine.”

Avery leans forward. “Who is this mystery man?”

Using my eyes, I discreetly gesture to Christy before shaking my head. “It’s still new and private, so I don’t want to jinx it.”

She pouts, so I give her a look that promises to tell her when we are alone.

Is it even okay for me to be dating a hockey player?

Christy pouts. “Aww, you’re really not going to tell us?”

I shake my head, desperately pleading for something or someone to interrupt our conversation.

Sensing my urgency to drop the subject, Avery jumps up. “We’ve got to get back out there.”

The second period flies by. Christy and I talk about future dreams and what restaurants we love in town.

When the players leave the ice for the second intermission, I put on my skates and take the ice with Avery. She gives me a crash course on the shirt-shooter and we shoot t-shirts into the crowd.

The crowd cheers, wanting a chance to get a shirt. I laugh more than I have in a while. The two sides of the arena compete to be the loudest.

Avery gets her half of the arena to scream a little louder than mine, so they get the last shirt.

I follow her off the ice, feeling my muscles burn.

I don’t know how the guys do this all the time. I feel like I need a week off just to recover, and lucky for me, we have a string of away games coming up.

But that means I won’t see Spencer for a while.

“Hey Savannah, do you mind coming with me to help the Booster Club pack up their tables? And then you’re free to go.”

“Not at all.”

I take my skates off and put them in their cubby before following Avery upstairs to the concourse. It’s mostly empty except for a few people walking around.

Avery shows me where everything goes and how it’s usually packed up. She starts with the insulated cups with the Sharks logo on them, and I pack up the hockey pucks in their own box.

Yelling and cheers filter through the closed doors. I turn around to watch the game on one of the concourse flat screens.

A huge fight breaks out after the final whistle, with both teams punching and pulling at one another.

This is what turns on Christy?

I’m the furthest from being turned on. My gaze searches for the number seventeen, hoping he isn’t the one in the middle of the scuffle.

One of the booster club women catches me watching the game. “Which one is yours?”

I glance back to where Avery’s gaze is locked onto the two of us before looking back at the game. “Oh, um, Spencer Reed.”

The older woman nods. “He’s a nice kid and a great player.”

I’ve never heard someone refer to Spencer as a kid. He’s anything but a kid…especially in bed.

Avery steps up beside me. “All done. Do you need help bringing the boxes to the office?”

“No, dear. We have help for that already. We appreciate the help. It sure did make things go fast.”

“Our pleasure. I’ll see you at the next two home game.”

She practically drags me back downstairs to the office.

“Spencer Reed? That’s who you’re dating?”

I sit down and grab a bottle of water. “I told you it was complicated.”

“You do know he works with my dad, right?”

I take a deep breath. “Yeah, I just recently found that out.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, but that lifestyle isn’t very forgiving. If you fuck up, you disappear, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

I’ve already fucked up, and everyone in the lifestyle seems to know it.

She twists the ends of her hair. “I’d say good luck, but what you need is a miracle.”

That doesn’t calm the nerves in my stomach. “Thanks for that. I need to go wait for Spencer. He wants to go to dinner.”

“Be safe and please text me and let me know you’re still alive in the morning.”

“Thanks, and I will, Mom.”

We share a laugh before I say goodnight and walk down the long hallway and exit the arena out of the back doors.

The night breeze is cool and refreshing, but it does nothing to ease the worry in my stomach or calm my racing heart.

Tires squeal as a truck spins around in the parking lot.

Several male voices yell out of the open windows.

They sure seem to be happy about tonight’s win.

As they drive off, something resembling a body falls out of the bed of the truck. Without thinking, I run over to the body, but I’m not alone. Looking up, I meet the gaze of several players, including Spencer.

“Son of a bitch.” Someone says from the gathering crowd.

Without looking at Spencer, I ask, “Who is it?”

The body is bloody and covered in bruises and cuts, like someone tortured him before killing him.

His lips are swollen, and his eyes have been gouged out.

My stomach turns and threatens to spill its contents. The edges of my vision blur as sweat covers my body. I sway on my feet as a whooshing sound echoes through my ears.

“Lean on me, Savannah.” Spencer says as he glances around.

Someone in the distance barks orders. Or maybe they are standing close by. The only thing I’m sure of is that this man being dumped here wasn’t an accident.

Neither was his death.

“Who is that man? And why did they dump him here?”

Spencer pulls me away from the crowd and toward his car. “Lorenzo. Arturo’s lead security guy.”