Chapter 14
There he was. William Black. The former goon from the Portland Sound and current head recruiter for the same organization.
He’d let himself go a little over the last few years, but he was still almost as tall as me with the same broad shoulders and thick frame.
Where before he’d hit the gym every day to keep in shape, I suspected he’d started slacking because his white button down strained in the belly region.
The aura of danger hadn’t changed though. A cruel amusement glinted in his eyes—the same ones both Andrew and I had inherited.
I stopped well out of his reach in the middle of a pool of light. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet your father?” He offered me a smarmy smile as he approached, and I turned to take the long way to the parking lot.
His hand dropped heavily on my shoulder, and I barely stopped myself from punching his smug face when I turned.
“Do not touch me,” I snarled.
Dad held up his hands and backed away—a first. “No need to risk your career a second time.”
Of course he knew about my fight with Kane and the suspension. I’d been na?ve to think he wasn’t laser focused on the events at TU considering he had a stake in my pro career. I slowed. What else did he know?
Better not to give him any ammunition.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated.
His smile dimmed when I didn’t rise to his bait. “I came to get my son.”
He didn’t mean me, but I wanted him to be explicit. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Dad scoffed. “Not playing like you did tonight, you aren’t. It’ll be a miracle if Portland takes you on with that half-assed effort. I taught you better than to let punk forwards deke you. I didn’t come all the way here to watch your subpar performance.”
My shoulders rose, and the muscles down my back tightened to the point of pain. Do not engage. After three and a half years, I’d honed the art of not engaging, but I hadn’t been prepared for a surprise visit.
I swallowed the immediate response to tell him to go fuck himself along with the offer from Portland. Dad was unstable in private, and I wasn’t sure if we were in range of the security cameras. I could take him—but I didn’t want to explain the bruises or risk a broken bone.
“Then why are you here?” I asked for a third time in an even tone.
Calculation entered his eyes when I didn’t react again. He wasn’t expecting the conversation to go this way. “For Andrew. I’m taking him home.”
“You’re not his guardian.”
I didn’t have any concrete information other than what I’d skimmed several hours ago, but it sounded like Mom had explicitly named me as Andrew’s guardian. No one had contested the paperwork yet, so in the meantime, I was in charge.
Dad’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “A technical issue we’re getting fixed. I’m his father. He should be with me.”
No way in hell. “Mom disagreed. If you come near him, I’ll call the police.”
“He’s my son, and that bitch kept him from me. You’re not going to do the same. As a matter of fact, you’re going to sign paperwork abdicating your rights and transferring guardianship to me.”
Rage filled me, hot and dangerous. I didn’t know Mom’s reasons, but I’d bet protecting Andrew was at the top. A sharp spike of pain jabbed through my chest at the realization protecting me hadn’t even been on the list.
It didn’t matter. Not now. If I was going to keep him from Andrew, I needed to focus on the man in front of me instead of a ghost from my past.
“Portland isn’t going to like a father fighting his son for custody of a kid he didn’t even know about.”
He laughed. “My lawyers are going to make short work of that excuse for a will. I’d prefer not to bring you into it, but I’m confident I can get the matter handled with minimal fallout to the organization.”
I frowned. Dad had always been clear Portland was the goal for me. He’d put in the money and effort to ‘train’ me so I would get drafted by the Sound. This was the first time he’d floated the idea of tainting my prospects.
I’d been beaten for less. In fact, one of the scars on my left shoulder was from when he’d thought I’d purposely skipped an informational meeting with their rep. I’d played a tournament the day before with the flu, and my body had simply given out.
Dad had found me face down in bed and whipped off his belt while lecturing me on responsibility. The familiar fury filled me, but I breathed through it the way Gavin had shown me. He’s baiting me because he needs something from me.
Do. Not. Engage.
“No.” I shifted the weight of my bag as I mentally prepped for him to lose his shit. “I’m not signing any paperwork, so you might as well leave.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ll fall in line one way or the other, but the transfer is the easiest choice for you. I’d hate for you to make this harder on yourself… and the girl next door.”
I stopped breathing as everything inside of me went still. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your fling with the girl next door is unfortunate, but she’s a weakness I’m willing to use. Do you think the court will look kindly on you foisting parenting responsibilities off on the neighbor you’re fucking?”
How the hell did he know about Taryn? My temper finally snapped, and I stepped up into his face. “Fuck you, old man. How do you think the courts—and the organization—will respond when I tell them all about how I got my scars? About the—”
I managed to stop myself before I gave away how much I truly knew. About the assistants who came over for late night meetings and left crying in the morning. About the rookies he dosed so he’d have leverage over them.
The knowledge I had could ruin him, if I was willing to go scorched Earth. I’d earned my spot in the draft, but if the truth came out, I’d be caught in the aftermath. I’d never play professional hockey.
So instead, I worked behind the scenes slowly destroying his influence—and I’d nearly ruined it in a moment of fucking panic that he’d touch Taryn.
Dad scowled, and the vein in his forehead pulsed ominously. “You’ve forgotten all the lessons I gave you on respect. Looks like you need a new one.” He started to remove his jacket, likely expecting me to stand there and let him dole out punishment. For a long time, I had.
Instinct took over, trampling my body’s momentary spike of fear.
I shoved past him and took off running. Time seemed to slow as nothing happened for a long moment.
I hated running, but nothing good would come from a direct confrontation.
If he left fresh injuries, I could make a case, but I also needed to be able to play hockey.
Dad didn’t have an ounce of restraint once he started, and deep down, I worried I wouldn’t either. I didn’t want to find out.
His slick shoes slipped on the rubber tile while my sneakers propelled me forward with loud squeaks. Even carrying my heavy hockey bag, he was no match for me. I’d been in training my entire life, and his brutality hadn’t kept him in shape.
My breath remained steady as I sprinted for the exit. I rounded the corner and barreled through the double doors into the frigid winter night. My truck was only a few feet ahead. I threw my bag into the back, wincing at the loud clatter.
It was only gear. I could get more.
I’d already jumped in the truck and cranked the engine by the time Dad exploded out the doors. His breath formed a white cloud in front of him as he panted. He stopped in the middle of the road, blocking my path. For one disturbing second, I considered not swerving around him.
We’d be free, but the cost wasn’t worth it. Prison probably didn’t have hockey teams.
I easily dodged him in the mostly empty parking lot and shoved the dark thought deep back inside.
The drive home was short—way shorter than I needed it to be.
I considered circling the block, but Mrs. Lipnicki would surely notice and call Gavin.
She’d been bothering him a lot more since the latest incident with my truck.
He didn’t need to get involved when Dallas was fighting for a playoff spot, even if he did own the house. If I could manage it, I’d make sure none of my friends were touched by this mess. I was used to taking the brunt of the pain, and none of them deserved the trouble my dad would bring.
I pulled up to the curb in front of our house and forced my hands to relax on the steering wheel. Adrenaline coursed through me. Once I released my grasp, my hands shook. I stared at the trembling fingers in my lap and took slow, deep breaths.
He knew where I lived. He knew where Taryn lived. Would he follow me here? My gaze shifted to the house, lit from within with warm golden light.
Was I putting my friends in danger by coming home?
As if he was waiting for me, Cole opened the door and peeked out. His eyes locked on the truck, still idling, and he cocked his head. Probably wondering what I was doing and if he needed to intervene.
A wave of shame washed over me as I realized how fucked up our relationship was if his first concern was saving my ass. I didn’t deserve him—or the others—but I wasn’t willing to give them up.
While I tried not to be a burden, the effort often came across as disinterest. It was easier to classify myself as an asshole than to relinquish control enough to be vulnerable. Cole stared at me a moment longer, then went back into the house.
He knew—they all knew—not to bother me, and I was starting to hate the distance I’d created. Leaving wouldn’t guarantee them safety, and staying didn’t mean I cared less. The best way to protect them was to tell them the truth.
I sighed and shut off the engine. All this introspection was making my neck hurt.
As I calmed down, I reminded myself Dad had never gotten violent in front of other people. His reputation was the only thing that kept him contained. The beatings were always the worst after he’d had to rein himself in, but as far as I knew, he’d never targeted anyone outside his immediate family.