Chapter 5 The Warning

Brennan POV

My alarm went off at five thirty, but I'd barely slept because Nessa's message from the night before was still open on my phone.

I found something in my father's safe. It mentions Hale and Vale. We need to talk.

I'd asked where she was, but she hadn't answered.

By the time I reached the arena, Marcus Callahan was waiting outside the locker room with a folded newspaper.

“You look terrible,” he said.

“Good morning to you, too.”

He held up the paper. The headline showed a photograph of me arguing with an official during last week's scrimmage.

“Your temper is becoming a problem.”

“Then tell the reporter to write about the game.”

“The board doesn't care what the reporter writes. They care what sponsors see.” Marcus lowered the paper. “Victor Calder called the president at four this morning. He wants you removed from Nessa's assignment.”

“On what grounds?”

“He says your history makes you unsuitable. He's also reminding the board that his sponsorship package comes up for review on Friday.”

“So he's using his money to get what he wants.”

“He's using whatever influence he has. One more major penalty, and your captaincy is in danger. Don't make his argument for him.”

Marcus left me with that warning.

My phone vibrated, and I saw that the number was blocked.

Drop the Calder girl or lose your C.

I saved a screenshot. Someone knew about my assignment with Nessa and wanted me away from her badly enough to threaten the one position I had left.

I drove to the performance center, where Nessa was already seated beside the training table with her crutches within reach and a folder across her lap.

“You came early,” I said.

“So did you.”

“I asked where you were last night.”

“I was at a café near my apartment. I'm home now.” She studied my face. “Did you think I was still inside my father's house?”

“I had no way of knowing.”

“I got out before he found me.”

I didn't ask her to describe the escape. “Show me what you found.”

She turned her phone toward me, revealing a photograph of a yellow note in Victor's handwriting.

Hale confirmed the log is cleared. Make sure Vale locks the secondary server by Friday.

“Hale runs the testing laboratory,” I said. “Vale is a senior federation director.”

“Could this be connected to your suspension?”

“Possibly. But we don't know which log was cleared or what the missing page contained.”

“Then I'll check the correspondence index for a record of your case.”

Nessa studied the photograph. “My father used to make me sort federation correspondence before competitions. Restricted notices passed through his office.”

“You think there might be a record of my suspension?”

“I'm going to check the authorized correspondence index myself. If a notice about your case passed through his office, the entry might tell us when it arrived and who received it.”

“It won't prove he was involved.”

“I know. But it's a place to start, and I'm not waiting for someone else to investigate my father.”

“Then save the original photograph and keep a backup.”

“Already done.”

She put her phone away. “What did Victor say to you?”

“He wants me removed from your assignment.”

“Because I'm working with you?”

“Because removing me would make his life easier.”

She glanced at the note again. “Then we need to find out what he doesn't want us to see.”

“Start with the correspondence index. I'll follow the contract reference.”

“And we share what we find.”

“As long as we keep facts separate from assumptions.”

She closed the folder. “Can we finish talking and get on with the session?”

I checked Dr. Evans's rehabilitation plan and arranged the equipment.

“Seated exercises today. No weight-bearing on the injured ankle.”

“I remember.”

“Then we're off to a good start.”

She took her position on the mat, and we worked through the approved upper-body and core exercises, keeping the resistance within the limits Dr. Evans had set. When her form slipped, I corrected it. She complained about the repetition count but finished the session without pushing beyond the plan.

Halfway through, her phone lit up. She read the message and turned the screen facedown.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“My sponsor's representative wants to know if I'm returning to my father's private clinic.”

“What will you tell them?”

“That I haven't decided.”

“Then don't give them an answer until you have one.”

“Easy for you to say. You already lost your sponsors.”

“I know what it costs when someone else makes your decisions. I can't promise you'll keep every contract if you refuse him. But the decision is yours.”

She looked at the phone again, then slipped it into her bag.

“I'll handle it.”

We finished the session, and as she reached for her crutches, she looked at me.

“Do you think my father caused your suspension?”

“I think the missing page matters. I don't know who removed it or what it contained.”

“And the note?”

“It's a lead. Nothing more until we can verify it.”

She nodded. “I'll check the correspondence index. If there's a reference to your case, I'll save the entry and request the full record through the proper channel.”

“Tell me what it says, not what you think it means.”

“I will. And if you find anything about my father, you tell me, too. Don't decide what I can handle.”

“I won't.”

She picked up her folder and headed for the door.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

“Follow the medical plan.”

She gave me a look. “You were doing so well.”

I watched her leave, then returned to the locker room and checked the screenshot of the first threat.

Another message appeared from the same blocked number.

You were warned to stay away from Calder. Ask Vale what happened to page three. Then ask yourself why you're being given the same chance to walk away.

I saved the message beside the first one. Whoever sent it knew about the missing page, but I still couldn't tell whether they were warning me or trying to mislead me.

Either way, they knew what I was investigating—and wanted me to stop.