"Mr. Kinkade, I do appreciate you coming in and talking to us," Detective Joe Desario intoned. However, there was no welcome in his brown eyes.

Jude looked blankly at the detective. Although, inwardly he couldn't believe this. Again. He was in what might have been the same interview room when Jelena had been shot. Same indistinguishable long, grey table. Same, cool and measured gaze from the older man.

"Just a few more questions…Warren Matthews. League Commissioner. Apparently, he was instrumental in you losing the L.A. Devils?"

"We haven't lost anything" 'Yet.' "He was not our biggest fan." By our, Jude of course meant Pax Lowe. Then again if Pax had banged his wife. Or husband. Jude knew he wouldn't have been in love with the Devils Nation either. Lionel's blackmail had kept Warren at bay for a while and yeah, they'd won the Title…

Desario had a hard on for anyone involved with the L.A. Devils. He'd been unable to pin Jelena's shooting on any of them. He'd tried. To the point that Gideon had thought that Jude was guilty and was willing to lie to protect him…

It was a cold case. Much to the frustration of the detective sitting in front of him.

"So, where were you Tuesday, at 3:AM?"

"Home. In bed. Alone." That was true.

Ever since Noah's recording had exposed and exploded the fixing scandal that involved Derek and German, he and Jude had been, not exactly broken up, but not exactly together. Admittedly, Noah had only been to his house a handful of times before …normally when they fucked, after a date, they ended up at Noah's. So, even if things had been going well between them, he more than likely would have been without an alibi regarding someone who wanted Warren dead, or at the very least incapacitated.

"Uh, huh…So, there's no one to corroborate your story?"

"No," Jude said with a shrug.

"Well, hopefully Commissioner Matthews will wake up from his coma and be able to tell us, who, maybe tampered with his breaks or who he was with right before his car careened into that ditch?'

"Hopefully. Are we done? I've gotta' catch a plane to Vegas."

"Yeah. For now." Desario watched him as he rose and exited the room.

As Jude left the station, he noted Eve Vincent further down the hall talking on her phone.
~~~

Jude had taken the L.A. Devils' private jet to Las Vegas for the annual League Team Owners' Meeting and had checked into the lavish Masini. Not because he wanted to, but because he couldn't afford to look weak or defeated. He needed to act like the boss. Be a Boss. Business as usual.

"C'mon Adam, you've gotta' see that this whole thing was just a vendetta orchestrated by Warren Matthews. There's no reason to try and take away our franchise. Bring another team to L.A. You and I both know this is all due to his wife running a train through seven different players from seven different teams. Including ours. He's still salty!"

Adam Oberman was the interim League Commissioner now that Warren Matthews was in a deep sleep, that for god knew how long. Adam and he were having dinner in the hotel's restaurant. He knew it wouldn't work, but Jude spared no expense. Wagyu and Beaujolais were laid out in front of them. He was desperate and since he had no leverage, bribery it was.

"Jude. There's a fixing scandal. Derek Roman and German Vega. YOUR captain and head coach! There's a recording. That everyone saw and heard on tv, the Internet… Plus, all the interviews...the scope of the investigation is developing. It is expected to include interviews with players and possibly agents and team employees! It doesn't look good, especially after everything that has come before." He brought the dark liquid to his lips.

"Yeah, I get that. But, that was under Oscar—"

"—And Lionel. The Kinkades. Maybe if Jelena were still owner, then things might be different. But, as it stands the League is pushing to oust you and bring in another team. We've long been looking to expand…there could be a Franchise Draft as early as next year…I'm sorry Jude. But, I refuse to be bullied by the Kinkades. Again." He gave him a slight shrug, rose and headed out of the restaurant.

'Shit.' Jude tossed the white linen napkin over his barely touched steak. He took a deep breath. He had to keep trying. There had to be an L.A. Devils for the upcoming season.

He was exhausted and it was only 8:00 p.m. He'd flown straight from L.A. and had spent all morning trying to schmooze and make good with the other owners, in addition to trying to get Adam on his side. This was not the kind of dick sucking Jude liked. He downed his wine, charged the meal to his suite and then headed upstairs to do a little work.

However, once there he changed course and decided to head to the hot tub located on the roof of the Masini. He slipped on a pair of plaid swim trunks and the white hotel robe and slippers. Once he stepped off the elevator, to his surprise, he saw that there was barely anyone there. Just two women, feet in the pool, sitting close who were sharing a bottle of white wine. There was no one in the hot tub. He grabbed a pool towel, carefully slipped off the robe, kicked off the slippers, and gingerly put his phone on top.

The view of Las Vegas was bright, bold and strangely beautiful. Energy. People living. Alive.

He eased his body into the intense heat of the hot tub. 'Christ.' That was just what he needed. The water felt amazing, and he immediately felt some of the tension ease. Of course, it didn't go away completely. He was still fucked as the owner of the soon to be extinct L.A. Devils…he drifted until he heard the low buzz of his phone. He dried his hands on the towel, and he picked it up. 'NOAH'.

He stared at it. He was still so damn angry. He didn't want to be. But, he was. He had finally gotten what he wanted. The L.A. Devils were his. Then they weren't. All because someone he'd said 'I love you' to, had betrayed him. Not for the first time. He let out a breath and answered. "Hi."

"Hi," replied Noah. There was a three second pause. "How are you?"

"Good. Great."

"Listen, Jude…I'm sorry. Sorry. What else can I say?"

Even through the phone Jude could see those dark eyes full of apologies and sadness.

"You can say…that you, never had any intention of using that recording of German. Oh, but you can't… because otherwise, why the hell did you still have it?" He hadn't planned to say any of that.

He heard the other man breathe hard. "Listen, I, I don't know why I didn't get rid of it. I don't know why I just handed my phone over to Jamie…I was careless. I'm miserable. I love you."

Jude didn't respond. He was mad at Noah. But, madder at himself. He'd trusted him. Some guy that he'd met at a liquor store during a robbery. It was a 'meet cute' courtesy of Quentin Tarantino.

He'd done it again. After Gideon, he'd been afraid…but then the more he got to experience Noah Ali. The more he liked him. He was funny. Smart. Talented. The sex was incredibly good. But, he never could quite trust him. A reporter… and when he did finally open up about Derek and the coke. It felt awkward. He was a nice guy…but, here they were.

"I guess I just wanna...to know where we stand. I feel like we're in purgatory. Are we done, or what?"

"What…I guess? I don't know if I want to end it. But, I gotta' know that I can trust you. Working for ISN…the press, has never been particularly kind to the Devils Nation. Or me."

"I have."

Jude felt a sudden chill, as he sat in the warm water. "Hey, I've got to go…but, when I get back to L.A…we'll talk."

"Okay, g'night."

"Night."

Christ, Jude was confused. Maybe he should call Lionel…although, it might not be a good idea to call his boyfriend's boss to ask her advice about what to do about his disloyalty, while working at her news agency. Maybe Lisa? Thing was, she didn't know anything about Noah. He had told her that he was seeing someone. He was nice. She asked him if he was "happy." His answer was "yeah." Then he said Noah was "nice." Again. She was quiet for a moment, and then replied, "He sounds nice." 'Oh, shit.'

Instead of calling the women in his life, Jude decided to actually go back to his room and do some work. He had a quick meeting in the morning with Millie Mayron before he had plans to get back to the arena.
~~~

He was warm and wet as he got off the elevator and walked toward his room.

His heart leapt. It always did. It always would. There was Gideon, poised to knock on his hotel room door. God he looked good. His hair was a little longer, just below his ears and while still blond, it was sandier instead of platinum. He wore a familiar tailored, dark grey suit. He'd worn it to Derek's Roast. Mostly, it was the one he chose to wear whenever he wanted to be viewed as serious; business meetings and official events.

At the beginning of their breakup, there'd been calls, texts, there'd even been a breakup fuck on Jude's desk. But, he hadn't seen him in the flesh in over a year. Online, on SportsCenter and ISN, sure, but not live and in living color.

"Gideon" he said in the most casual voice he could.

He stopped mid-knock and turned toward Jude. His bearded face lit up in a smile. He then sauntered toward Jude. It lacked the smugness that had marked his earlier self, but it still read as confidence. He couldn't help it.

"Jude."

Jude just looked at him. Every feeling came rushing back. But, hell. He didn't have the time nor the emotional energy for this. "Why are you here?" he asked quietly as he got his key card out of his pocket and scanned his door. It did its little green dance.

"I heard you were in town…thought I'd come by."

He wrinkled his brow, which created the familiar 11. But, still said nothing.

"Everybody knows why you're here. This place is like Devils Arena on acid. No secrets. I mean, you don't even really have a team…"

"Listen…" Jude started to feel annoyed and maybe a bit angry.

"Hey, hey I just wanted to come by…I felt I owed it to you…and the Devils. Maybe I can help."

"Help?" he said with a snort. Admittedly Zero was beloved by the fans, top brass, and brands. While their reign as king and king of L.A. had been brief, the baller had still made moves to build an empire whether Jude was a part of it or not. He could be useful.

"Let's have a drink and discuss…," he said with a tilt of his blond head.

"Sure." Jude was not going to allow him into his room. "I'll meet you down in the bar in 10 minutes. Order me—"

"- a bourbon, neat," Gideon finished.

"Ya' leaned out. Got a new haircut. Looks good," said Gideon as they sat at the Masini's mahogany bar. He brought his vodka on the rocks to his lips.

'Those lips.' "Thanks. What help?"

"Millie Mayron. You have meeting tomorrow."

Jude nodded silently.

"Well, the League opened an investigation centered on the timing of some of the earliest reported free-Agency deals…the League has the power to punish teams for tampering ahead of the first minute… with the reps of free agents. She's involved in it. I was there. So were some other players. I can't use it. But you could keep her on your side or in your pocket."

"Free-Agency deals. That would be good for you, why tell me?"

His ex peered at him, unblinking.

"Nooo. We're not going there again."

"Going where, Jude?"

He said it so casually that for a moment Jude was unsure if he, Jude, was just projecting.

"I feel bad. When I left, I left you guys in the lurch. Gave it all to Milwaukee."

Suddenly, Jude started to nod his head and let out a little laugh. "You broke my fucking heart. I don't know if I can trust you! Or anything you say." He then drained his glass and rose to go.

"I was reckless. I'm sorry. I love you."

Jude could see that the admission was unexpected. Desperate even. Jude plopped back down into the seat. It was one of those laugh sob moments. "I have a boyfriend."

"You mean the guy that got you into this?" Gideon said with raised brows.

"I goddamn hate you right, now" Jude whispered.

"Do you really hate me? Or do you hate that you want me? Still."

It was an honest question, one that Jude chose to ignore.

"He's a guy who's secure in himself. Who's ALWAYS been open to a relationship. A public one."

"Then what are you doin' here?"

"Here?" Jude lightly gestured around the busy and humming bar. "We're in the most public and popular hotel bar in Las Vegas. I'm not hiding anything. We're not doing anything on the down low."

"Exactly. We were 'Zude,'" he said using the nickname that the media and the fans alike had given them. "You don't think that half these people have already taken a photo and sent it to TMZ...and maybe Noah Ali? It would be a lot less drama if we'd had this drink in your room."