Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Rebel Arena, Freedom
D’Angelo
“Return my old meds.” I raise my shaky hand to my eyes, rubbing them. “Write me a new prescription.”
Is the room spinning?
The muted gray walls blur.
I struggle to focus, despite the waves of nausea that are rolling over me, causing me to shiver.
My suit is crumpled. My eyes are painted with deep shadows. I am hot and sweaty.
I ache from shoulder to hip with the deep bruises, which I earned with every single one of the collisions in the game yesterday.
Yet I wouldn’t give up that pain because Wilder and his players believed that they could bully me, taking their revenge.
They tried to use violent tactics to win.
Instead, my loyal team banded together using sheer talent and teamwork to kick the Penguins’ asses.
Except, it wasn’t because of being slammed into the boards that I’d been dizzy throughout the game and my knees buckled in the locker room afterward.
It was in the hotel room, when instead of playing out the fantasy scene as a reward like I’d hoped, Eden called the private doctor, and I reached for my new meds.
Then I hesitated.
Vivid nightmares. Dizziness. Sickness.
I’ve only experienced a reaction like this once before, when I was a teenager trapped in the Discipline School. They were testing out a range of meds on me for my OCD. One of them made my mind and heart race too fast.
The professionals didn’t bother to explain the side effects to me.
I don’t know which ones I reacted so badly to. But surely Olivia knows because she has access to my notes.
I don’t trust her.
What if she didn’t read my notes properly? Could she have accidentally given me the wrong one?
I feel off.
Something is really wrong.
I know my body better than anyone, especially since I trained to become a dom. Yet I feel like I have lost control of it, as much as my mind is spiraling.
I can’t play the next game tomorrow like this. Except, I can’t not play it.
If we win, then the Bay Rebels will have reached the Stanley Cup Final.
I’ll have saved the team. I’ll have destroyed Wilder.
The private doctor didn’t know what was wrong with me either.
I clench my jaw.
This is not psychosomatic or exhaustion.
I fucking don’t accept it.
Despite Michael’s sternness over the phone, I don’t have time to go to hospital for tests.
Not yet.
Robyn, Shay, and Eden are waiting for me outside, possibly by the rink, probably as nervous as I am.
Robyn told me that they have an entire day of pampering planned for when we return home, but none of them wanted to leave me alone.
If not for Olivia’s rules, they’d be crowded around this table in her office with me.
I sprawl in my chair opposite Olivia in the center of the office, angled across a low table.
Olivia is wearing a suit in the team colors. Her blond hair tumbles over her shoulders.
She arches her brow. “Is this about your need for control? This is my office. You don’t give the orders here.
Or is this a power play like you showed in your game against Wilder?
It must have been a thrill to destroy your partner’s rival like that publicly.
Did you call this extra session with me because you’re riding on a high and want to pull the same trick with me?
” She studies me with an unsettling intensity.
“It doesn’t work like that. Possibly, I will need to start an official assessment for—”
“Don’t diagnose me.”
“Another order.” When Olivia writes something down on the notepad, which she is shielding from my view on her lap, I stiffen.
What is she writing? Is she marking me? Assessing me?
Why do I feel like I am failing an exam that I didn’t know I had been entered into?
I point at her. “What are you…?”
“Does it distress you not to know? To not be in charge?”
“What distresses me is how I’ve been feeling since I met with you.”
“Because I’ve been challenging you?”
Olivia’s eyes flick down to the page. She adds another line. The pen scratches obnoxiously.
She’s doing that on purpose.
I tap the face of my Rolex three times, agitatedly.
She adds another line.
“Because I’ve been having vivid nightmares.” My stomach tightens. “Nausea. Dizziness. I feel wired.”
Finally, Olivia glances up at me.
Her eyes gleam with a sudden eager interest. “Hmm.”
I lean back in my chair; the muscles of my leg twitch. “No need to look at me like I’m a fascinating lab rat in an experiment. Your mad scientist face is showing.”
“You’re the one who sees himself like that. Why are you acting like I’m dangerous?”
I struggle to focus on Olivia, as hard as I’m trying not to vomit all over the bottles of water that are ranked on her table.
My head feels fuzzy. I shake it, trying not to slip back into the shadows of my past.
The pain.
I grimace. “Aren’t you?”
Olivia doesn’t reply, instead pushing a bottle of water to me. “You’re looking pale. Drink.”
“I don’t take orders. Haven’t you at least worked that out about me yet?”
She makes another note, while I stare at her challengingly.
Then she crosses her legs. “I’m concerned. It is my job.”
“Then help me with these side effects.”
“Is that what you believe they are? Shall we discuss these dreams? Were you the devil in them?”
Is she fucking with me?
“Look,” I wrap my arms around my waist, as my stomach heaves, “this isn’t some romcom where we’re bantering back and forth before we fall into bed.
And don’t do some kind of Freudian analysis on that.
You already believe that I’m a playboy, right?
A BDSM obsessed deviant? I’ve heard it all before.
Fuck you. I only met with you again, rather than recovering at home where I am desperate to be right now, because I need to find out about the new meds you put me on.
Are you a fellow Catholic? Because I understand the Lucifer and Hell imagery.
It never leaves you, huh? Maybe you need some help with that. ”
Rage flashes across Olivia’s face, before she can hide it.
Bullseye.
She tosses her notepad onto the table, knocking over a bottle of water with a bang.
I startle.
“Do you want to hear my assessment?” Olivia leans forward.
“I really don’t.” When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I sigh with relief.
Saved by the text.
I hold up my finger. “Hold on.”
Olivia stares at me in shock like she’s never been spoken to like that.
It serves her right for trying to outdom a dom.
I drag out my phone. I fumble, almost dropping it. With difficulty, I clutch it to my chest.
I blink rapidly, trying to make out the words.
It’s from Garcia — a single word.
SUCCESS
I grin.
Garcia is the fucking best.
He is smart and shady enough to know not to send anything incriminating over text. He has been trying to hack everyone’s phones at Bay Rebels. I may not have shared with Robyn just how not quite legal Garcia’s methods are. Yet they are effective.
My heart races with both anticipation and fear.
He’s worked out who helped Wilder to attack me.
I need to know, but part of me doesn’t want to.
I trust the players.
I fucking hope that I am right to.
“No phones during sessions,” Olivia says, sharply.
I ignore her, pushing myself shakily to my feet. “No problem. Since you don’t seem to know why I am having these issues, I’ll find someone else who does.”
I love the stunned shock that spreads over Olivia’s face, wiping away her usual smugness.
I’ve caught her off guard for the first time.
Olivia launches herself up as well. “Mr. McKenna hired me. This isn’t optional for you. It’s your job. You must attend my sessions.”
“Coach hired you as a mental skills coach. I can seek other medical advice and a second opinion.”
“Wait.” She scrambles around the table, banging her knee on the corner.
I turn away from her. “I have a doctor I actually trust. I should have gone straight to him and shown him the medication.”
Olivia’s eyes widen. “Sit down. Why don’t we talk about this? You mustn’t stop taking them. It would be dangerous. You could have withdrawal-type symptoms.”
When my phone vibrates again, my pulse spikes.
Does Garcia have a name?
This is it.
I take a breath, before I glance down.
One name.
SILAS ANDERSON
I stare at it for a long moment.
Rage bubbles through me.
I should have known.
When I made that deal with Silas, he made threats that I thought were empty at the time. Eden and Garcia’s work on the files would land Silas in jail for fraud.
I believed that our deal was the safest thing for Noah.
Yet I always intended to destroy Silas. He deserves to be sent to jail for everything that he’s done.
Yet it must be done in a way that doesn’t lead back to me because Noah must be protected. I promised him and I always protect subs.
This is why Garcia has been working on feeding information to a contact that he has in the FBI.
Even I don’t know everything about Garcia’s past.
It looks like it’s time to feed them everything now.
At the end of this season, Anderson will be fucked, and it will look like it’s coming from an FBI investigation.
My expression becomes grim.
My vision is swimming, but I manage to type the two words that will bury Anderson:
DO IT
“What are you doing?” Olivia demands.
I’d forgotten about her. “Nothing.”
“I said, sit down.” She pushes on my shoulders, shoving me back into the chair.
Shocked, I try to resist her, but my muscles are twitching and won’t obey me.
My thoughts are racing. Lightheaded, my mind is hazy.
The fear is blinding.
I organize my life in order to have control. Losing it like this is my worst nightmare.
“Please…” The word is past my dry lips before I can take it back.
Olivia perches on the table. She is far too close.
Uncomfortable, bile rises up my throat.
Silence stretches between us.
“You’re different to how I expected.” Olivia rests her hand on my sweaty forehead, as if a mom taking my temperature. I flinch. “You’re hot.”
My tongue feels too large in my mouth. “I n-need a d-d-doctor. Call an ambulance.”