Chapter 114: Priya Patel

NORA’S POV

The diner booth went completely quiet, the clatter of silverware and greasy burgers fading into background noise.

Knox held the phone against his ear with his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched along his cheek. "Tell Pierce not to sign anything, Coach. I’m twenty-one. My father doesn’t own my medical decisions."

"Pierce is already sweating through his collar," Brennan’s voice crackled through the receiver. "The university’s general counsel is meeting with him in the morning. Those corporate lawyers are going to advise him to fold and settle just to avoid a multi-million-dollar lawsuit."

"I don’t care what they advise," Knox retorted almost immediately. "I’m heading to the house now. Keep Pierce from caving until I talk to him."

"Just stay put and keep your head on straight, Knox," Brennan exhaled heavily. "I’ll handle Pierce tonight."

The call clicked off.

Knox slowly set the phone face down on the table. His knuckles remained white, his gaze fixed on the surface.

"Knox," I said softly, resting my hand over his tense wrist.

He took a slow, deep breath, pulling his sunglasses back up over his eyes to block the bright diner lights. "I’m fine, Bookworm. Go clock out. Let’s get out of here."

I nodded, sliding out of the booth. I hurried back to the staff room, punched my timecard, took off my stained apron, and grabbed my winter coat.

Denise was wiping down the grill when I came back out. She took one look at my pale face and nodded toward the exit. "Go on, Bennett. Take care of your boy."

"Thanks, Denise," I murmured.

We slipped out the back door into the biting November chill. Bear had his truck idling in the alley, the heater blowing warm air as we climbed inside.

Knox pulled me into the middle of the bench seat beside him, wrapping his uninjured right arm around my shoulders. He was stiff as a board, radiating cold fury that filled the entire cab.

"He doesn’t actually care about your concussion, does he?" I asked quietly, looking up at the sharp angle of his jaw.

Knox stared straight out the windshield into the dark streets. "Not even a little bit."

"Then why do this?" Bear asked from behind the steering wheel, glancing at Knox in the rearview mirror. "A lawsuit against the school? Over medical protocol?"

"Because I didn’t call him by noon," Knox answered. "Because I didn’t get on my knees and apologize for getting hit in a hockey game. He thinks if he creates a legal nightmare for Briar, the athletic department will pull my clearance and hand me over to his private sports clinic in Boston."

"And once you’re in Boston under his private doctors..." I whispered, the ugly picture coming together in my mind.

"Once I’m there, he controls everything... my medical records, my draft narrative," Knox said coldly. "He takes away Briar. He takes away the one thing I built without his money."

A sharp, protective ache filled my chest. I reached down, found his large hand in his lap, and interlaced my fingers with his.

"He’s used to buying whatever he wants," I told him, squeezing his hand firmly. "We are not letting him take your team, Knox."

Knox turned his head, his eyes softening just enough for me to see the gratitude beneath his iron exterior. He brought my knuckles to his lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against the back of my hand.

"Damn right we’re not," Knox murmured against my skin.

Ten minutes later, Bear pulled the truck into the driveway of the SinBin.

We walked into the front hallway to the sound of television commentary. Jake and Milo were sprawled across the living room couch, an open pizza box between them while they reviewed game tape from Friday night.

"Yo, Cap," Milo called out, tossing a crust into the cardboard lid. "How’s the brain feeling?"

"It was fine until Garrison decided to drop a nuclear bomb on the program," Bear answered grimly, shutting the front door.

Jake sat up, his brow furrowing as he paused the television. "What the hell does that mean?"

"My dad’s legal team just served Briar with a medical negligence lawsuit," Knox said, taking off his sunglasses and dropping onto the single armchair. "He’s demanding an emergency injunction to pull my medical clearance and transfer me to Boston by Monday."

"What the fuck?!" Jake exploded, jumping to his feet. "He can’t pull you off the team! We just beat Boston! We’re second in the ECAC!"

"He can if the school’s lawyers panic," I interrupted, stepping between the boys before tempers boiled over. "Brennan said the university counsel is already looking for an easy way out."

"Those spineless desk jockeys," Milo cursed, pacing behind the couch. "We ought to march thirty guys into Pierce’s office again."

"No," I said firmly. "A protest won’t stop a multi-million-dollar lawsuit. We need legal leverage."

I pulled out my phone and dialed the one person I knew who understood legal warfare better than anyone on campus.

Priya answered on the second ring. "Nora? Are you still at the diner?"

"No, I’m at the SinBin," I said quickly. "Priya, we have a massive emergency. Garrison is suing Briar for medical negligence to force Knox off the team. We need you here right now."

There was a half-second pause on the other end, followed by the sound of papers rustling and a closet door slamming shut. "Give me five minutes."

True to her word, Priya arrived at the SinBin six minutes later.

Her dark coat was half-zipped, her hair slightly windswept from running across campus, and her leather messenger bag was slung across her chest, stuffed with her laptop.

"Okay," Priya said without greeting anyone, dropping her bag onto the coffee table and pulling out a chair. "Tell me everything Brennan said."

Knox leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and repeated Brennan’s exact words about the negligence claims, the emergency injunction, and the threat to pull his clearance.

Priya’s fingers flew across her keyboard as Knox spoke. She opened a copy of the draft legal notice that Brennan had forwarded to Knox’s email, skimming the corporate legal jargon with sharp, trained eyes.

"Why the hell would Briar’s lawyers want to settle this?" Bear asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Knox was cleared by Doc Campbell. Why wouldn’t they fight it?"

Priya looked up from her screen, her expression chillingly practical.

"Because Briar’s lawyers don’t work for Knox," Priya said bluntly. "They work for the university board. Their only job is risk elimination."

The room went dead silent.

"What does that mean?" Jake asked.

"It means fighting Garrison Sheridan in court costs hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees and creates horrible publicity," Priya explained. "If Briar simply benches Knox and lets his father’s medical institute take over his care, the lawsuit disappears instantly. The university gets zero liability and zero legal bills. The school’s lawyers aren’t trying to defend Knox; they are actively looking for an excuse to sacrifice him."

Tension settled over the living room.

I stepped closer to Priya’s shoulder, looking down at the screen. "Please tell me you have an idea of how to stop them from sacrificing him?"

"I don’t know, Nora... let’s go over what we know," Priya said, highlighting a paragraph of text on her screen. "Garrison’s entire lawsuit relies on one specific claim: gross negligence because Knox blacked out on the ice and was never taken to an emergency room for trauma imaging to rule out an internal bleed."

"I told Campbell I didn’t want to go to the hospital," Knox grunted. "I had a mild concussion."

"To a judge looking at a corporate complaint, the lack of an official hospital scan makes Briar look reckless," Priya countered. She paused, her expression suddenly sharpening. "Wait. Knox, you’re twenty-one. You are a legal adult."

"How does that help us?" Bear asked.

Priya whipped out her phone and tapped a contact on speed dial. "Hold on. Let me call Professor Henderson. He runs the campus Student Legal Clinic and literally wrote the university’s tort liability handbook."

She tapped the speaker icon as the phone rang twice.

"Priya?" a deep voice answered. "It’s Saturday evening. Did someone get arrested at a fraternity house?"

"Better, Professor," Priya said rapidly. "Hypothetical question: if a twenty-one-year-old athlete suffers a mild concussion, and a third party threatens to sue the university for negligence over a lack of emergency room scans, what happens if the athlete independently checks into an ER tonight, gets a certified clean CT scan, and signs an adult indemnification waiver releasing the school from liability?"

A low chuckle came through the speaker. "The third party’s lawsuit is dead on arrival. Without internal bleeding, there are no damages. And with a signed adult indemnification on file, the university has zero liability. If the administration tries to bench the athlete after that, the athlete could sue the school for violating his medical autonomy."

"Thank you, Professor. You’re amazing," Priya grinned. "Have a great weekend."

"Don’t flatter me, Patel. Just get an A on my midterm."

Priya hung up the call and tossed her phone onto the table, looking at Knox with a triumphant smile.

"You heard the man," Priya said. "We go to Briar Memorial Hospital right now. Knox gets a full emergency trauma CT scan under an independent ER attending physician. When that scan comes back clean, we draft an Adult Patient Autonomy Declaration and an indemnification waiver. If Briar tries to bench you, you threaten to sue them."

Jake let out a low whistle. "Damn, Priya. Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Knox stared at the glowing laptop screen, the tension in his broad shoulders finally shifting into determination.

"Bear," Knox said quietly, standing up from his chair. "Get the truck keys. We’re going to the hospital."

Before Bear could reach into his pocket, Knox’s phone buzzed loudly against the coffee table.

Every eye in the room snapped toward the screen.

The caller ID flashed in bright white letters: GARRISON SHERIDAN.

Knox went completely still.

I looked at Knox, my pulse hammering in my throat. "Knox..."

Knox didn’t hesitate. He reached down, swiped the screen, and tapped the speaker icon.

"I assume Coach Brennan delivered my message, Knox," Garrison’s icy, aristocratic voice echoed through the silent living room. "Pack your bags. My driver is pulling up to your house in twenty minutes."