Chapter 3

“Logan Blackwood?” Maya repeated. “Yes…” Authur sighed. “He’s very… well, you get to see for yourself when you resume. See you tomorrow, Dr Cater.” “Alright, thanks,” Maya said as the line went dead. Logan Blackwood. She had heard a lot about the ruthless Boston wolves captain, but the way Authur had sighed really made her feel worried. *** Maya made it to the facility at 8:30 AM, because she didn’t want to be late on her first day. The glass and steel facade of the Boston Wolves’ private training facility towered over the Brighton street, gleaming in the morning sun. Inside, the place smelled faintly of ice, floor wax, and money. Arthur Pendelton met Maya in the lobby. His sharp suit matched the voice she remembered from their phone conversation. For the next thirty minutes, he walked her through the state of the art weight rooms, hydrotherapy suites, and player lounges, introducing her to a few members of the administrative staff along the way. "Our players require absolute focus," Arthur said as they walked down a wide corridor lined with framed championship photos. "And none more so than our captain. Logan Blackwood is... particular. He values his privacy above all else. His routines are absolute, and he doesn't tolerate interruptions or casual intrusion. As long as you maintain strict professionalism, you'll find working here very smooth." Maya nodded, clutching her leather binder against her chest. "Understood." "I need to step into the front office to finalize your security badge," Arthur said when they reached a central foyer. "The main medical wing is just past the secondary lounge on your left. Take a look around and familiarize yourself with the equipment. I'll join you in ten minutes." "That’ll be nice,” Maya smiled at him. Arthur turned down an adjoining hallway, and Maya headed toward what she thought was the medical corridor. The facility was massive, with rows of brushed steel doors and frosted glass panels making the place easy to get turned around in. She took a left at a junction and glanced at the plaques fixed to the walls. Hydronetics. Biometrics. She kept walking until the hallway became quieter, and the polished concrete beneath her shoes eventually changed to heavy carpet. Even the constant hum of the facility seemed to disappear. Maya slowed down, she had clearly missed the turn to the main clinic. She glanced around, looking for another doorway that might take her back. At the very end of the hall stood a heavy walnut door without a sign or number. Maybe it led to another corridor. Maya reached for the metal handle, turned it, and stepped inside. The door closed behind her with a soft but heavy thud and Maya stopped. This wasn't a hallway, she was standing inside a large private suite. The room was spotless, decorated in dark charcoal and white marble. A massive leather sofa faced a wall of monitors displaying real-time biometric data and game footage. There were no family photographs, no books or random belongings sitting around. Everything was exactly where it belonged. The sharp smell of cedar mixed with our and medical grade disinfectant. “This isn't the medical wing”. Maya muttered and took a step backward. But before she could reach the door, movement on the other side of the suite caught her attention. A door opened and a man walked out, pulling a black compression shirt down over his chest. Maya's eyes immediately got fixed on his size. He was well over six feet two, broad through the shoulders and heavily muscled. His dark hair was still damp from the shower, and his face had the kind of sharp, severe features that made him look permanently annoyed. Then his eyes met hers. Icy gray and deadly. Logan Blackwood. Maya had seen pictures of the Boston Wolves captain before, but none of them had prepared her for him in person. He was intimidating. Before she could say a word, he moved. He crossed the room so quickly that Maya barely had time to react. One second he was several feet away, and the next, his large hand had closed around her upper arm. He shoved her backward, and her back hit the walnut door hard enofrom her lungs. "What the hell are you doing in here?” His voice vibrated through the walls of the suite. Maya stared up at him, stunned. His body was close enough to block out almost everything around her. His grip held her firmly against the door, and his gray eyes were fixed on her with open suspicion. "I asked you a f*****g question," he said, tightening his grip when she didn't answer fast enough, making Maya wince. "Who gave you access to this room?" "I... I made a wrong turn," Maya said, her heart was pounding violently, but she forced herself to keep her voice steady. "Let go of me." "Who the f**k are you?" he didn't even acknowledge her request. His jaw tightened as he studied her face. "Security doesn't let strangers wander into private suites." "I'm not a stranger," Maya shot back and looked directly into his eyes. "I'm Dr Maya Carter, the new primary physician for the team." Something shifted in Logan's expression. His brows pulled together, and when he heard the word physician, the irritation on his face deepened. He still didn't release her. Before he could say anything, the suite door opened behind Maya and Arthur Pendelton stood in the doorway. His face went pale. "Logan! Stop!" Arthur hurried inside, raising his hands. "Release her! That's Dr Carter. She's the new head of player medical care. She was hired yesterday!" Logan's eyebrow twitched. For a second, he simply stared at Maya, then he released her. He pulled his hand away so quickly it was almost as if he'd touched something hot. He stepped back twice, putting several feet between them. Maya stumbled and caught herself against the door. Her arm throbbed where his fingers had been. She rubbed it, staring at him and expected an apology. Instead, Logan reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small canister of medical-grade hand sanitizer, flipped the cap open, and poured a large amount into his palms. “f*****g dirt,” he muttered. Maya frowned as he began rubbing his hands together. He scrubbed between his fingers, over his knuckles, and along his wrists. His movements were quick and almost aggressive, as if he couldn't get the sanitizer on fast enough. Maya watched, confusion rippling across her features. Then he grabbed a sterile wipe from the dispenser on the side table. He wiped the sleeve and shoulder of his shirt. The same part of his shirt that had brushed against her during the confrontation. Maya stared at him. She had dealt with trauma patients, angry athletes, and executives who could barely control themselves under pressure. She had never seen anything like this. He wasn't simply angry, he looked disgusted by having touched her. Arthur moved carefully between them. "Logan, I apologize. I was showing Dr Carter around the facility, and she must have taken the wrong corridor." Logan dropped the used wipe into the silver trash can. His breathing had settled, but his jaw remained tight. He didn't look at Arthur, his attention stayed on Maya. Those gray eyes were cold enough to make her skin prickle. "Stay the f**k out of my private quarters, Doctor."