Risking the Crown (The Crown 2)

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I’ll fly you out tonight. Beat the press by a day. We can talk.”

“I can’t leave. I have patients.”

I scratched the back of my head. “I need you here.”

She sighed into the phone. “I can try to get someone to cover my shift. I’ll call you back.”

I felt the relief sink into my shoulders. She could be here tonight. By my side. Battling this with me.

“I’ll book the flight.”

“All right, but I’m worried this is going to get worse before it gets better.”

“It might. But it’s going to blow over, Doc. Trust me. I’ve ridden out worse scandals.”

It wasn’t the right moment to tell her about how many women had accused me of knocking them up, or the guy who threatened to expose my private gambling ring. Ben was just one more on that list of people I’d paid off to keep their mouths shut.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, you will. I’ve gotta go. Coach is waiting.”

I walked into the sunlight and into the hotel. I wasn’t prepared when a reporter popped up from behind a plant.

“Wes, do you want to comment on the rumor that you used HGH and regenerative gels to repair broken bones?”

“Who the hell are you?” My hand was already balled in a fist.

“Jerry Cole with the Sports X.” He pushed a recorder in front of my face. “Is it true? Did you use substances banned by the AFA?”

I shoved his hand out of the way. “I’m not commenting on rumors.”

“So was it really a break and not a sprain? Did the Wranglers lie about your injury?”

I walked away, heading toward the elevator.

“Did your girlfriend help you get the HGH? Did she have access to the illegal substances? It’s Dr. Lennon Ashworth, right?”

At the mention of her name, my eyes blazed. Who did this fucker think he was? Before I had a chance to deck him and flatten on the marble floor, Stubbs was next to me, pulling me into a conference room. He slammed the door behind us.

“Calm the fuck down, Blakefield.”

My chest was heaving. My pulse was thumping.

“They’re going to drag her into this,” I groaned.

“Stop right there.” He put his hands up. “I don’t want to know anything. Nothing about your hand. Nothing about HGH. Nothing about you and your girlfriend. Don’t say another word. If there is an investigation, I want to be able to say I know nothing. Got it?”

“Then why’d you drag me in here?” I glared at him, feeling my blood pressure starting to drop.

“To stop you from punching out that reporter in front of everyone. I can’t help you with what’s already happened, but maybe I can stop you from making a mistake today.”

I hung my head. “Thanks.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“I would.”