Skater (Seattle Sharks 6)

Not that I blamed Connor. I would’ve done the same thing, but...fuck, I would’ve listened.

“I don’t know,” I said, internally cursing myself for the billionth time. “I should’ve deleted that stupid thing, but I’d honestly totally forgotten about it.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, hating that all those months ago Pepper and I had been drunk enough to create such a document. Okay, I wrote it, but it was venting. Connor had hurt me, and I was getting it off my chest in the only way I knew how—with words on paper and a wine-pouring sister at my side.

“Even without the article,” Eric chimed in. “Those pictures are damning, Ivy.”

I snapped my eyes to his, and he quickly raised his hands in defense. Pepper elbowed him in the side.

“No,” I said as he opened his mouth to most likely apologize. “You’re right,” I said, the gears in my brain spinning on overdrive. I bolted from my seat, instantly pacing the length of their couch. “Oh, I’m an idiot.”

Why had I assumed it couldn’t possibly be my photographer who snapped the photos of Connor?

Why had I so quickly thought it was some other vicious, money-hungry paparazzi that worked at the Seattle Chronicle.

Zach.

Of course, it was Zach.

He had access to my dropbox, too, where I automatically saved all my articles.

“Fuck, I’m an idiot!” I screamed, halting in my tracks.

Pepper rushed to my side. “Stop that,” she chided. “You are not.”

“Yes, I am,” I said, nodding. “I know who did it.”

“Your editor?” Eric asked.

“I had wondered, but no. Someone hand-delivered her the pictures and my article. Someone whose job was on the line just like mine.”

Pepper gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “No.”

Eric arched a brow, his eyes darting between us with absolute confusion on his face.

“My photographer,” I said.

Eric furrowed his brow. “That little dude that followed you around like a lost puppy and almost got into it with Connor at Club Thirty-Five?”

“That’s the one,” I said. “To be fair, he was assigned to me, and it was his job to blend into the shadows and capture anything newsworthy.” I shook my head. “But he crossed a line. I wasn’t with Connor that day after practice, so Zach shouldn’t have been there either.” A pain twisted sharp and searing in my chest.

Connor.

He’d been so angry with me. I really couldn’t blame him. All evidence—paired with my past—pointed to me being the awful, headline-chasing bitch I swore I’d never be.

He should’ve known better.

My heart screamed and raged from the depths of the shattered pieces that remained after Connor had turned his back on me and stormed away, taking Hannah with him.

Watching her tear-streaked face silently plea through the window as Connor drove away, was a pain I’d never experienced. Hurt worse than when Dad chose the Sharks over Pepper and me too many times to count during holidays and graduations. Hurt worse than losing our mother, because at least with her, we were prepared. There wasn’t enough time in the world to prepare me for losing Hannah, for letting her down, for letting them both down.

“What do you need?” Pepper asked, squeezing my hand.

I sucked in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly to cool my rage. “This,” I said, gripping her hand before dropping it. “Thanks for having me over for the vent sesh. I needed it.”

“And now?” Eric asked. “What happens?”

“Now,” I said, sighing as I scooped my purse off their entryway table. “I need to have a serious conversation with my editor.”

“What about Zach?” Pepper asked.

“Yeah,” Eric added, standing to hold the front door open for me. “You want me to come with you and make sure he never crosses a line again?”

I forced a soft smile, wishing I wasn’t so damn hollow at the moment to appreciate Eric’s support. He may be my brother-in-law, but he was genuinely a good man who fought for justice on any scale. “No thanks, Iron Man,” I said. “But I seriously appreciate the offer.”

“Anytime,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can talk to Connor too—”

“No,” I cut him off, clenching my eyes shut at the sound of Connor’s name. “He wouldn’t listen to me…he didn’t want to hear the truth.” I sighed. “He wouldn’t believe me.” I shook my head. “This is my mess. I’m going to clean it up.”

Eric nodded, and Pepper flashed me a proud smile from where she stood by his side. I was lucky to have them as my family, but my heart ached for the one that had chosen me—Hannah and…

Forcing the thoughts down, I said my thank yous and goodbyes again and headed toward my car.

Thirty minutes later, I rode the elevator at the Seattle Chronicle, each ding revving up the anger boiling my blood. By the time the doors opened, I was livid. Betrayal and hurt twisted together, turning my stomach as I stomped toward my desk.

It took Zach all of two seconds to register my presence and four more to realize my mood. He bolted so fast from his chair that it rolled all the way back against the wall. “Ivy,” he said, his hands raised. “You—”

“No,” I snapped, stopping within inches of his face. “You don’t get to talk until I ask you to.”

He narrowed his gaze but kept his mouth shut.

“What in the hell were you thinking? Following my...following Connor? Sneaking around in my dropbox? Were you that fucking desperate?”

“Yes!” He threw his arms in the air. “I did what I had to in order to keep our jobs! Which is way more than you’ve been doing. Our expiration date was in days!”

I gaped at him, my hands trembling with adrenaline. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been busting my ass! I’ve gone to every celebrity event there has been in the last few months, and each time I delivered a good story!”

“Good,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “Not great. Not what they wanted.”

“They didn’t want this—”

“They did,” he said. “Shelby ate it up.”

“It’s not true,” I said. “Not one word of it is true! Even your pictures are a lie.”

He flinched. “Says who?”

“Me.” I glared at him. “Connor wasn’t buying drugs. He’s clean. He doesn’t even like taking vitamins! He was saving his sister. Being a fucking hero. Not the dirtbag you painted him to be.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “You’re so blind. I thought you were above falling for celebrity athlete trash.”

“You’re pathetic,” I said, practically hissing. “Desperate and pathetic,” I added. “My stories were keeping us here if you hadn’t noticed. And now, after what you’ve done…” I sighed, the rage flowing out of me. I gave him one last glare before turning my back on him.

“Ivy!” He called, but I didn’t turn around, he wasn’t worth my time anymore. “What are you going to do?”

“Fix this.” I jabbed the elevator button, sliding through the doors with a terrifying determination.

He stopped the doors before they closed. “You’re not serious. Ivy, you can’t.”

“Watch me.” I eyed his hand, the threat in my eyes clearer than when a Shark laid out an opponent on the ice.

He drew it away, eyes wide and panicked as the doors slid home.

A few floors up and I was standing in front of Shelby’s office door, terrified to knock.

Do what’s right. Not easy.

That was my entire mission statement, right? The reason why I wanted to report on the good and surprising and delightful in an industry of darkness and grime.

“Come in!” Shelby hollered once I’d managed to knock.

I shut the door behind me.

“Harris,” she said, barely looking up from her desk. “What can I do for you?”

“Print a retraction.”

Her eyes snapped up to mine. “Excuse me?”

“You accepted a fals

e article from a source that wasn’t me.”

She sat back in her chair, folding her hands together on her desk. “Explain.”

“Zach,” I said, waving behind me like the traitor was outside the door. “He followed my friends without my permission or request, and he took those photos—”

“Just because he didn’t clear it with you doesn’t make it false.”

“No,” I said. “But the context is. Connor was there to help his sister, not because he’s ever touched drugs.”

She tilted her head.

“His sister is off-limits, too. Completely off the record,” I added for good measure.

“And the article?”

I sighed. “That was from my personal files and should’ve never seen light. Zach abused our shared space, stole it, and made major edits.”

Shelby stood and walked around her desk to lean on it, arms crossed. “This is…troublesome, especially given the calls we’ve been taking from the Sharks’ head of PR.”

“If you would’ve checked with me first, this wouldn’t have happened.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not my responsibility to babysit infant reporters,” she snapped. “The photos and article matched up. It had your name on it. Came from your email—”

“Well, it wasn’t me. Retract it. Now.”