Which one of them had taken a bribe? And was it only one? For all he knew, half the guys could be involved. The notion caused his blood to boil. You had to be a real son of a bitch to deliberately throw a game. The media had claimed only one or two games had been fixed, and early in the season, but it didn’t matter to Brody when or how many. All it took was one game. One game could be the difference between making the play-offs and ending the season in defeat. It was a good thing they’d played well enough to make up for those early losses.

“Let’s give them hell tonight,” Wyatt said quietly as everyone began shuffling out of the locker room.

Give them hell? That was the big pep talk for the night?

From the wary looks on the other men’s faces, Wyatt’s words of encouragement were about as effective as dry glue.

“Craig, wait a second,” Brody said, intercepting the team captain before he could exit the room.

“We’ve got a game to play, Croft.”

“It can wait. I just need a minute.”

The captain tucked his helmet under his arm. “Fine.”

What now? Did he come out and ask Wyatt about the bribery bullshit? Bring up the affair with Sheila Houston?

Brody realized that maybe he should’ve come up with a game plan before he initiated this conversation.

“Well?” Wyatt said, looking annoyed.

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He decided to take a page out of his mom’s policy book: honesty. “I saw you with Sheila at the arena last week.”

Wyatt’s face went ashen. Then he swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bother with denial. I saw you.” The collar of Brody’s jersey suddenly felt hot and the padding underneath his uniform became tight. Sucking in a breath, he added, “How long have you been having an affair with Presley’s wife?”

The air in the locker room grew tense, stifling. Wyatt’s face was still white, but his eyes flashed with anger and indignation. Shoving his helmet onto his head, he shot Brody a frown. “This is none of your business.”

“It is if you’re the player who came forward and confirmed Sheila’s accusations.”

A long silence fell, dragging on too long for Brody’s comfort. Wyatt’s face was completely devoid of emotion, but it didn’t stay that way for long. After several more beats, a look of weary resignation clouded Wyatt’s eyes.

“Fine. You win. It was me.” The captain’s large hands trembled as he fumbled to snap his helmet into place. “I went to the league, Brody. I’m the reason this damn investigation is starting up.”

Brody swallowed. His gut was suddenly burning, but he couldn’t figure out if he felt angry, betrayed or relieved. He studied Wyatt’s face and quietly asked, “How did you know Sheila was telling the truth?”

“I had my suspicions at the beginning of the season, when we lost a couple of games we had no business losing. And Sheila confirmed it.”

Wyatt exhaled slowly, his breath coming out shaky. “I can’t play on the same team as a few assholes that would sabotage us for money. I can’t play for an owner who is willing to cheat.”

Brody couldn’t help but believe him. Wyatt seemed legitimately torn up about all this.

“You know who took the bribes then?” Brody asked.

Wyatt quickly averted his eyes. “Just drop it, Brody. Let the league conduct its investigation. You don’t want to get involved in this.”

“Wyatt…”

“I’m serious. It’ll all get cleared up eventually. Just…drop it,” he said again. Wyatt stepped toward the door. “Now get your ass out there. We’ve got a game to win.”

Brody watched the other man stalk off. A part of him wanted to run after Wyatt and shake some names out of the guy, but another part was telling him to let it go. Trying to force Wyatt to confide in him wouldn’t achieve anything. Craig would just get angrier, more volatile, and the last thing Brody wanted to do was piss him off. Wyatt was a gifted athlete, one of the best in the league, and with play-offs happening, Brody wanted the Warriors captain focused on the game, not personal junk.

And he needed to focus on the game, too. Lately he’d spent too much time worrying, doubting his fellow players, wondering if his career would be blown to hell by the scandal. He had the truth on his side, the knowledge that he’d played clean and hard all season, but that didn’t mean squat. Guilty by association, or whatever the hell they called it.

He would be a free agent in a few months, but another franchise might be loath to pick him up knowing he’d been investigated for bribery. All he could hope was that the investigation was quick, painless, and that his name wouldn’t be dragged through the mud for something he hadn’t done.




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