Chapter 6
Rebel Arena, Freedom
Robyn
At last, I’m alone with D’Angelo and Shay. The high steel doors protect us from the gang of journalists and paparazzi on the other side.
Or is it protecting them from D’Angelo’s rage?
Studying the icy storm in his blue eyes, it’s a close call.
D’Angelo breaks away from me, dragging his scarf out of my grip. He stalks down the arena corridor, which is painted white with low, blue lighting.
Shay and I exchange a glance, before following him.
D’Angelo fusses with his scarf, muttering to himself.
Shay’s phone is still spewing no comments, this time in French.
“How about you turn that off?” I say. “Nice trick.”
Shay grins, as he switches off his phone and then slips it into his pocket. “You could tell us a different phrase each time, and we’ll all set it up on repeat.”
It’s not a bad idea.
“I’ll find out what Melanie means.” I meet D’Angelo’s gaze. “I’ll kill her story.”
My heart speeds up, as he sweeps back to tower over us.
Sometimes, I forgot how tall he is. He’s much taller than me…and Shay.
I need to tip back my head to meet his frosty gaze.
“Puck Boy,” D’Angelo growls. “Fucking Puck Boy…?”
“If those bloody bastards are going to call anyone that, then it should be me,” Shay says, sounding insulted. “I can be your puck boy if you want, darlin’.”
D’Angelo’s pupils dilate, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
He looks like he’s struggling to control his anger, pushing his curls back from his face.
Wait, not control anger…
He growls, before shoving Shay against the wall with an arm across his neck. “You already are.”
Shay’s eyes widen and then become glassy with desire.
“Shit.” I look around the empty corridor wildly in case someone comes around the corner.
Not knowing these two men the way that I do, they’d probably think that it was the hockey captain kicking the ass of the newbie star player in the typically physical way that my ex-Wilder was known to use on his teammates.
Whereas I know that D’Angelo and Shay love to play rough, and D’Angelo is only interested in fucking Shay’s ass…
Right now, it’s what D’Angelo needs.
“Guys,” I hiss, “this is dangerous, risky, forbidden…”
Shay’s long eyelashes flutter, and he moans, pushing his hips against D’Angelo’s. “Fuck, keep talking, love. You’re making me so bloody hard. Tell me again how forbidden this is. Am I being a bad boy?”
D’Angelo pushes his arm harder against Shay’s throat. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Shay groans, opening his lips obediently.
D’Angelo claims them hard, fast, and brutal. He doesn’t let up his hold on Shay or the way that he steals his breath.
It’s a thrill, watching them like this. It’s even more of a thrill to snatch this moment together.
I know that both men are getting off on me watching them.
I used to be spontaneous.
As much as I’m vibrating with the terror of being caught, that fear is being transformed into excitement.
I wet my lips. My breathing is ragged.
When D’Angleo breaks off the kiss, then drags a dazed Shay around until both men are facing me, I’m flushed.
When they look at me like I’m the prey, I’m torn between running into the arms of these gorgeous men and running away.
“Hold up,” I whisper. “It’s 9:30. We’ll be late, if you…”
D’Angelo taps Shay’s shoulder, and he nods.
When both men stalk toward me, I back away down the corridor.
I tumble backward. I have a survival instinct. I’m not taking my eyes off these two.
Shay’s kiss swollen lips quirk into a smile. “Where are you going, love?”
“Meeting,” I blurt. “Dad.”
D’Angelo raises his brow but he doesn’t stop stalking me like a well-dressed wild cat. “She does that: shouts out her dad’s name in bed.”
“Kinky.” Shay pushes his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, cocking his head.
“Hey, I don’t think about my dad during sex,” I protest.
“I’m relieved to hear that, Robyn,” Dad’s gruff voice says from behind me.
I eep, losing my step and tripping over my feet in horror.
Dad reaches out to steady me by the elbow.
I close my eyes.
Is there any chance — any chance at all — that when I open them Dad will have disappeared?
Slowly, I crack open my eyes.
Nope, no luck.
Shay is grinning, looking far too amused.
D’Angelo, however, appears pale and tense. He struggles around authority figures, especially parental ones because of his troubled past.
Now that Dad is essentially his father-in-law, as well as his coach, it puts him in a double position of authority.
Dad holds D’Angelo’s career, which means everything to him, as well as his relationship with Shay and me, in his hands. I’ll do everything that I can not to allow Dad to wreck either.
On the other hand, Dad holds the control within the Bay Rebels.
During my childhood with Cody, I long realized that no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t change Dad or his mind once it was made up.
He hurt my brother by not loving him unconditionally, and I don’t know if he’s accepted how much damage he did to him.
At the same time, he lost his wife to cancer, as much as we lost our mom. But he left Cody and me to grieve alone.
I’m as fiercely protective of Cody, as he is of me.
Yet I love Dad.
He’s the only parent that I have. And he loves me in his dickish way.
Parents, huh?
Dad’s warm hand is still firmly on my elbow, as he turns me to face him.
“Morning, Dad.” I blush.
Dad once had the same red hair as me but now, looks like a silver fox. He’s tall with a neat beard and twinkling, emerald eyes, which means that there’s still no missing that he’s my dad.
He’s dressed in a sharp charcoal suit with a green shirt and tie.
He lets go of my elbow. “You’re late, Robyn.”
D’Angelo makes a show of checking his Rolex. “Actually, she’s precisely on time, coach.”
I love his courage that he always speaks up for me, even though I can see how anxious he’s feeling by the way that he taps the watch’s face three times.
Dad doesn’t look impressed. “My cheap piece of crap watch tells me that you’re two minutes late. So much for your flashy waste of money. I can only assume that you’re the reason that my daughter didn’t reply to my first messages, as well as being late. At least you’re dressed smartly and don’t smell like you bathed in whiskey this morning. It’s an improvement. My daughter’s rubbing off on you.”
“No, that’s Shay,” D’Angelo replies, deadpan. “At least, he was last night.”
Shay splutters with laughter, before trying to smother it behind his palm. “Sorry, coach.”
Dad narrows his eyes. “Get out of here, I have a meeting with my daughter.”
He turns on his heel and marches to his office.
I trot after him. “Just so you know, Dad, I’m the reason that I didn’t reply and am late. I can screw up without help from anyone else.”
Shay continues on down the corridor. “Have fun, love. Come get me at the rink, when you’re done. I’m going to get in some laps on the ice.”
I smile and wave.
D’Angelo’s eyes dance with amusement, as he swaggers after me, rather than following Shay to the rink.
If Dad thinks that’s he going to keep D’Angelo kicking his heels out in the corridor like he did in my first ever meeting here, then he’s going to learn that the power dynamics have changed.
D’Angelo and I are partners now.
D’Angelo puts me first above his hockey. It makes my heart warm.
Wilder didn’t.
Dad didn’t.
I never believed that anyone would truly put me first.
I follow Dad into his office.
Flat screen monitors hang on the walls of his office. Dad uses them to watch back the games with his team, analyzing their plays to improve them.
On the far wall is a white touchscreen that’s scrawled with red and blue lines of strategy like the front of my Guide.
I throw myself down into one of the chairs, which is opposite the large, mahogany desk. I wriggle around for a moment, trying to make it look like I’m not adjusting the way that my lacy thong has gone up my ass.
It serves me right for being in such a rush this morning that I grabbed the first pair of panties that I could find and ended up with the one that I’ve christened the wedgie.
Seriously, I’m thinking of taking up Shay’s suggestion and going commando from now on.
When the chair creaks from my squirming, Dad turns around. “Robyn, do you have ants in your pants or…?”
Then he sees D’Angelo strolling into the room as well and shutting the door with a bang, his eyes widen in surprise.
Saved by the alpha male showdown.
“What are you doing following my daughter like a lost puppy, D’Angelo?” Dad demands. “Have you forgotten the way to the rink? Do I need to get the Colton down here to escort you there and put you through some drills for the next hour?”
“Pass, coach.” D’Angelo slouches to the chair next to me and folds his long legs into it. He adjusts his cuffs, casually. “Can we start the meeting now?”
He has big balls. And I should know. I’ve struggled to suck them into my mouth.
Seriously, it’s impossible.
I struggle to keep the thought off my face.
By the way that D’Angelo is side-eying me, I have zero idea what expression I’m wearing right now.
Dad studies D’Angelo for a long, heart-stopping moment. “Don’t get cocky. You’ve made the team, but the season hasn’t started yet. This is your chance to redeem yourself in my eyes, as well as the fans’ eyes, Freedom’s, and the whole fucking world’s. Bay Rebels are the underdogs who are battling to show everybody that they can compete with the big boys. This is legacy time — for me and you. We can’t screw this up, Jude.”
Dad’s use of D’Angelo’s first name hits him harder than his talk about redemption or legacy.
D’Angelo sits straighter in his chair. “Of course, coach. We…I…won’t.”
Dad is fond of D’Angelo. He’s seen more of him over the last few years than he has of me. After all, I only returned to Freedom last month, but Dad has been working with D’Angelo closely on the team since it was founded.
He’s the only one on the team apart from the twins who knows about his charity work.
Of course, that was before he found out about D’Angelo dating me.
I don’t know whether Dad will be able to separate that from how he works with D’Angelo here at the rink.
I hope so.
Without realizing it, I’ve stiffened.
D’Angelo glances at me. His hand twitches like he’s aborted reaching to grasp mine.
Dad pretends not to notice.
Only, he has.
“So, red eyes and crumpled suit.” Dad gestures at me. “It is Zombie Robyn who decided to turn up.”
Damn my allergies.
I rub at my puffy eyes.
Life’s too short to iron, right?
I think I have that on a t-shirt.
“Laugh it up, Dad,” I grumble. “You’re the one who insisted on a morning meeting on the night after you announce team selections. What’s so important?”
Nervously, I watch as Dad leans against the wall next to the window. The arctic blue drapes are open, and sunshine streams through, making his silver hair gleam.
“I’m sure that you expect me to kick your ass now,” he says, gruffly. “Did you think that this was an ambush? Is that why you brought your white knight?”
D’Angelo looks startled like he’s never been called that before. “I’m more like the wicked dragon shifter who helps the damsel flame the knight because he’s trying to force her into marriage, then hoards her with my treasure.”
“That’s sweet, sort of,” I say.
In a typically possessive D’Angelo way.
When Dad marches to the desk, before throwing himself down heavily into his chair, I jump. “Well, here’s what I wanted to tell you.”
My pulse speeds up. My mouth is dry.
Why does he look so troubled?
What the hell is he going to say?
I wring my hands in my lap, hardly daring to breathe, as he leans on his desk.
Dad’s gaze darts to D’Angelo like he wishes that he wasn’t here. He looks like he’s struggling to make up his mind about something.
Finally, he ignores D’Angelo and focuses on me.
“Robyn,” Dad’s eyes meet mine, “I know that I haven’t always been the best Dad. That’s not easy for me to admit. I want to try and repair our relationship. I’ve screwed up, so many times. I get that. But what’s happened with your bastard ex-husband has shaken me. Hell, what happened on my watch…how he stalked you…”
“I don’t blame you,” I reply. “It’s on my abusive ex and not you.”
This is not how I expected this conversation to go.
Not at all.
“I know, but as your dad, it’s my duty to protect you. It’s bullshit, if you tell me that it’s not because that’s how I feel. And now, you have this relationship with these three men. I thought that I’d hate it. I know that I gave you a hard time about it, when you first told me. But I needed time to think.”
My expression hardens. “And have you?”
He nods. “You’re a grown-ass woman. I wouldn’t dare my worst enemy to suggest to you that you were anything less than an independent woman who knew her own mind. So, if you tell me that being with these three men is what you need…”
Next to me, I can tell how still D’Angelo has become.
Does he think even now that I’ll reject him? Ghost him again?
I guess those wounds run deep.
“It is. It really is, Dad.”
I glance at D’Angelo, as he relaxes into his seat at my words. He tries to cover it by flicking non-existent lint off his jacket.
“Then I’m going to support you.” Dad’s gaze darts between D’Angelo and me. “I’ve made sure that your therapy is booked, Jude. Now, we need to keep a lid on Shay’s temper. He’s a golden retriever off the ice but can turn into a pit bull on it. Only time will tell, if it’s different now that he’s playing without his twin.”
I wince. “That may be good for Shay’s career, but it ended Eden’s.”
Dad’s expression softens. “I know that Eden lost his career, while he was injured playing for me. Anything that he needs, just ask. I lost my career too, even if it was because I was an asshole and not because I was concussed. I get that he’ll be devastated and grieving right now. Don’t underestimate the mental impact, simply because Eden doesn’t talk about it. I never told your mom what it was doing to me.”
“How did you cope?” D’Angelo asks.
“I took up boating. Boxing. And lots of barbecues.”
“So, I tell him to take up something beginning with ‘B’,” D’Angelo drawls.
“He loves baking. So, we’re okay.” I bump my knee against D’Angelo’s.
I don’t add that he doesn’t do bottoming, so that’s out.
“What about supporting Cody?” I’ve wanted to say this to Dad for weeks. “Will you call him in and talk to him like this too?”
Dad clasps his hands together on the desk. “Why?”
“Because you need to repair your relationship with him, even more than you do with me. You owe him a one-to-one conversation at least to apologize. I’m seeing him for brunch tomorrow. We can work on this as a family.”
“It’s not the same,” Dad grumbles. “He doesn’t have a crazy ex. He has a husband who coddles and overindulges him.”
“He doesn’t.” My lips thin. “He has a husband who loves him like he deserves, unconditionally. Think about it.”
To my relief, Dad nods.
“Are we done?” D’Angelo begins to push himself out of his chair, relieved.
“Sit your ass back down,” Dad barks.
Reluctantly, D’Angelo sinks back into his chair. “Yes, coach.”
I should have known that there would be an ass kicking somewhere.
Here it comes.
The stealth ass kicking.
As kids, Cody and I used to joke about Dad’s hidden attack modes.
If you thought that you’d got away with not finishing your punishment chores, he’d act friendly like you didn’t have anything to worry about…until bedtime. Then you’d discover him scowling and waiting in your room ready with a scolding and a list of additional punishments that you’d earned for the next week.
Never let your guard down around a wily silver fox.
“Did you think that the hard work was getting through the training camp and retaining your captaincy?” Dad’s gaze is sharp. “The hard work starts now.”
D’Angelo swallows. “Yes, coach.”
D’Angelo’s tapping out a rhythm of threes on his thigh. I hate to see him under pressure, and the season hasn’t even started yet.
“We get it,” I promise.
“Do you?” Dad leans further over the desk. “As PR Director, I hope that you do. You’ll have meetings with other senior staff, including Felix, who’s the operations manager, as well as Jon who works in marketing. Do you know what Silas, the finance manager, won’t tell you?”
“My fortune?” I venture.
D’Angelo’s lips twitch.
Dad is stony faced. “He won’t tell you that the Bay Rebels are likely to still be here next year. At least with me and the rest of us staff at the helm. The Bay Rebels are in financial difficulty and need to radically turn around both gate and merchandise sales. They’ll do that by winning over the fans. This season is our best and possibly only chance to prove ourselves to them and the world. At the same time, the board have made it clear that they’re only going to let me run the team my way with those who don’t fit into other teams or need a second chance, if I get them to the playoffs. If we do. Press scandals could derail this. Robyn, you’re still needed to manage my two most valuable but volatile players. This season will either save us or fuck us in the ass.”