Chapter 22
Rebel House, Captain’s Hall
Robyn
Ishift on the bench.
Have I ever been this uncomfortable before?
Probably, only that time the new, handsome headmaster in high school, who was trying to be friendly and down with the kids, called out to me, “Come into my office please, if you’ve got a sec.”
I’d known that it was about Cody’s fighting.
So, I plastered on a fake smile, replying loudly before I’d engaged my brain, “I have loads of secs.”
We’d both frozen at the same time.
He’d blushed as deeply as me.
Plus, the rest of the corridor had erupted into giggles.
On the bright side, he was so flustered that he disappeared back into his office as fast as he could, and I escaped from needing to see him.
Cringe for the win!
Except, I don’t think that there’s an upside to this type of social embarrassment. It feels more like I can’t breathe properly.
I’m fidgeting with my cutlery.
The sun is bright in the blue sky. I squint against the light, which glimmers over the lake like thousands of submerged stars.
Dad hasn’t said anything about the real reason that he’s invited us to lunch on the decking behind his boat house at the lake today.
He’s like an ancient wolf biding his time to launch his attack on the new members to put them in their place…by serving barbecued chicken and drinking beer.
Dad’s silver hair and beard are neat. He’s dressed in black pants and a charcoal sweater with the sleeves pushed back. This is his laid back outfit, which he usually saves for the weekend.
Except, I can tell that he’s on high alert.
Rebel House is Dad’s boat house. It’s the most iconic property in Freedom, but for me, it’s my childhood home.
The old-fashioned house is huge, sprawling alongside the lake, as the jagged mountains loom behind it. In the distance, stands a private boat launch. A long pier disappears into the center of the water.
I’m sitting at a large, rough oak table that’s set around the low, embers of the fire pit at the water’s edge.
The table is laid with a feast of barbecued pork and chicken, along with beef shoulder. My mouth waters at the tangy smell of the barbecue sauces.
I wrinkle up my nose at the smoky scent, which wafts on the breeze. It stings my eyes.
D’Angelo insisted on dressing smartly in a navy suit with elegant arctic blue waistcoat. I’m calling it his meeting the in-laws outfit.
He truly does struggle with being around parents.
Shay, on the other hand, prefers to live dangerously.
Talk about a thrill seeker.
He’s gone in the opposite direction and is wearing black leather trousers, a scarlet shirt, and his leather jacket.
He looks impossibly gorgeous.
Also, way too relaxed and happy.
He’s sprawling back and drinking a beer like he’s not the person who this meal is all about. It shows that he’s new to Freedom and doesn’t understand my dad.
Also, how optimistic he is.
In the taxi over to Rebel House, D’Angelo looked moments away from ordering the taxi to drive us to the airport instead.
“Why do meals at your dad’s always feel like an execution?” D’Angelo pulled on his cuffs.
I snorted. “Probably because they are executions.”
“And it’s my head that’s on the chopping block,” Shay said, suspiciously brightly, “or my balls.”
Surprised, I glanced at him, as he hummed and carded his fingers through his tumble of hair. “Don’t you care about your head or balls? Because I’m kind of fond of them.”
Shay shot me a smile. “Of course I do, love. But it’s outside my control. I’ve had time to think. I did struggle on the ice but I shouldn’t have my balls busted for mental health difficulties. What happened to me would fuck anybody up. Plus, having it put out there for everybody to see, when I didn’t even know that Blythe had taken photographs, just before I had to play…I’m not going to blame myself for how I reacted. Coach yelled at me already for that. That’s fair. If he wants to go at me harder today, then I’m ready.”
“It’s not right.” My jaw clenched. “You weren’t the only player out there on the ice. The team isn’t made up of a single player. You can’t be expected to win every single game. You were targeted by that defenseman.”
“I’m proud that you didn’t hit him back.” D’Angelo caressed Shay’s cheek. “Even if I wish that you did.”
Shay laughed, lighter than I expected. “Me too, darlin’. So, let’s simply enjoy some barbecue. It’s beautiful weather.”
I laughed. “You English and your obsession with talking about the weather.”
Yet Shay does appear to be happy in the sunshine, sucking the barbecue sauce off his fingers in a way that goes straight to my pussy, and savoring his chilled beer.
He’s carefully not looking at Dad, who’s sitting at the head of the table.
The only positive to Eden no longer being a player is that he doesn’t have to dance to Dad’s tune and come to lunch today.
D’Angelo took great delight in saying that as his employee now, Eden was busy with work.
Of course, Eden still wanted to come to support his twin. Until, I played the you don’t want tofaint face first into the fire pit card.
Did I get Cody on the phone to back me up?
Maybe.
Did I also get Michael, his doctor on the phone…?
One hundred percent and no regrets.
Well, some regrets, but they mostly concern perming my hair in high school, wearing white jeans on the first day of my period (at least twice a year), and marrying Wilder.
D’Angelo and Shay are sitting either side of me with their hands resting on each of my knees. Their touch helps me to feel grounded and reminds me that I’m loved.
It helps because being back in my childhood home is tough, especially knowing that we’re in trouble.
Dad is like a thundercloud. He holds his rage over your head, until he comes crashing down.
Cody and I could wait weeks, never knowing when he’d come storming down on us.
Except, he rarely rained on me.
He shone like the sun on me with his approval and pride. It was Cody who was seen as the screw-up who could never do anything right.
Yet my brother is talented and good.
He should always have been treated with love and respect. I know how much it hurt him that he wasn’t.
My eyes burn with tears, as the pressure of waiting for Dad’s calmness to crack and his real reason for inviting us today shudders through me.
Shay casts me a concerned glance, tightening his hand around my knee.
D’Angelo is already bone-white. He has his own triggers when it comes to parents but he’s still supporting Shay and me.
He looks like he may hurl into his plate of buttered potatoes and salad, but he’s managing to make polite conversation about classical music with Michael, who’s sitting across the table with his arm slung possessively around Cody’s shoulder.
I’m glad that Neve’s not here to take the piss out of them.
They’re getting seriously passionate about who’s the better musician between Mozart and Beethoven.
“Beethoven was a genius who broke rules and created an entirely new musical era,” Michael insists.
“But Mozart was a prodigy.” To my surprise, D’Angelo’s gaze slides across Shay and then me. “A foul mouthed brat but one who was so innovative that he was simply ahead of his time. His songs will be immortal. He’s a legend.”
Shay perks up. “Oh, like Jimi Hendrix.”
D’Angelo huffs, but Michael nods.
Michael leans across the table and clinks his beer with Shay’s. “Our rock fan wins the argument.”
D’Angelo rolls his eyes.
Dad’s simply watching them all in a way that’s making dread curdle in my stomach.
It’s like he’s deciding whose throat to savage first.
When Michael notices, he casually leans over to add an extra spoonful of potatoes onto his plate. “Are you going boating this weekend, Austin?”
For the first time, Dad stops glowering. “On Sunday, if the weather holds up. I’ll go out at dawn. It’s good to be reminded that nature is much bigger than we are.”
I let out a breath of relief.
Boating is the one topic that relaxes Dad.
It hurts Cody and me because boating is how Dad escaped from spending time with us after Mom’s death. I still don’t think that he understands how much he neglected us.
I raised Cody more than he did.
On the other hand, as an adult, I understand. In the calmness of nature, he found a way to grieve and heal.
Dad truly loved Mom. When she died, he didn’t know how to cope and deal with suddenly becoming a single parent.
Yet Michael is wisely using the topic now to distract Dad. Never mind that Michael spent his morning saving lives. This here is some heroic shit.
Cody looks unsettled.
He slips out from under Michael’s arm, before leaping up and diving around the table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and hugs me.
I twist to hug him back. His hair brushes against my cheeks.
“Hey, Ryn,” Cody whispers.
“Thanks for coming here today,” I whisper back. This is familiar. Suddenly, I feel younger. I could be a teenager, hugging my kid brother as he sobbed in my arms for so many fucking reasons. “I know that it was short notice.”
Dad didn’t invite Michael and Cody.
I did.
I knew that Dad may control himself better with all of us here, and also, Dad needs to sort out his relationship with my brother.
Dad still hasn’t properly apologized for treating Cody like the family fuck up for so many years. He has a lot of work to do to make up for the toxic way that he still talks about him.
“We always have each other’s back when it comes to…” Cody pulls back from the hug to look significantly at Dad who’s talking with Michael about the boat that he’s recently bought.
“Yeah, we do.”
I protect my brother, and he protects me.
I wish that didn’t need to include from my Dad.
Most of the time, especially after Mom’s death, Dad simply forgot us. But then, there’d be the times that Cody would be summoned to Dad’s study, and the same fear that’s now turning my bowels to water would make me hold his hand and insist that I’d go with him.
“Be a man,” Dad would bark at Cody, despite the fact that he was only a kid and barely came up to his chest. “You don’t need to hang onto your sister all the time. No wonder you never get picked for any of the sports teams. Get inside.”
Then Cody would be yanked out of my hold and dragged into the study by his ear.
The slamming of the study door always sounded like a punch.
I can still hear it.
Instinctively, I grab for Cody’s hand.
Surprised, Cody’s gaze shoots to mine.
No one can stop me holding his hand now that we’re adults. It doesn’t make him less of a man. It didn’t then and it doesn’t now.
Cody squeezes my hand back.
“It must be beautiful on the lake that early, coach.” Shay takes a happy bite of his large sandwich. “I’d love to go out with you one time. I’ve never been anywhere like this. Guildford’s so different.”
“What in the hell makes you think that I’d take you?” Dad’s voice is ice cold.
Shit, he’s finally making his move.
He’s savaging Shay.
Why did he need to reject Shay like that?
It’s the same as he refused to take Cody boating, leaving him doing punishment chores, while taking me on the lake.
Shay chokes, and Cody leans to bang him on his back.
D’Angelo’s gaze becomes flinty. “Don’t worry, Shay. If you like the idea of boating, then I’ll buy you a yacht.”
My lips twitch, and Michael attempts to hide his own smile behind his beer.
Shay coughs again. “A bloody yacht?”
“Two then,” D’Angelo says, casually.
Cody whistles. “And one for my sis.”
D’Angelo arches his brow. “Done.”
When Dad slams his hand down on the table, I jump.
Everyone falls silent.
The tension is palpable. The air is suffocating. The thunderstorm has finally broken.
“Buy yourself ten yachts, a Ferrari, and a mansion in the fucking Hamptons, I don’t give a fuck,” Dad barks. “Enough of this bullshit. Shay, what the hell happened in the game?”
So, Dad’s decided on the direct route.
Shay looks like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Dad,” Cody tries, “his brother has only just—”
“I’m not talking about his brother right now. Sit down, Cody. Stop hanging onto your sister’s hand like… Sit your ass down.”
Hurt flashes across Cody’s face.
I squeeze Cody’s hand. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s okay.” He leans down to hug me. “I’ll be just across the table.”
“Code didn’t deserve that,” I insist.
Cody’s shoulders slump, but Michael welcomes him back next to him, slipping his arm protectively around his shoulders.
“I would appreciate you not talking to my husband in that manner,” Michael says low and steady. “You do not get to order him around.”
“He’s still my son,” Dad replies. “And this is my house.”
“Having him as your son is a privilege.” Michael’s expression is stern. His eyes blaze. “One that you may lose. We can leave very easily.”
Cody sits straighter.
I love that he has Michael as his husband.
Dad waves his hand, dismissively. “This isn’t about Cody’s screw up this time. It’s about Shay’s.”
Cody and I wince at the same time.
Michael tightens his arm around Cody.
“I’m sorry that I fucked up.” Shay ducks his head. “But please don’t bring anyone else into it, coach. Why are we talking about this in front of everyone? Wasn’t being humiliated in front of millions of people yesterday enough punishment?”
“This is your captain, mentor, and PR Director. They need to be here,” Dad points out. “I wouldn’t need to have called his crisis meeting, if you’d been honest with me after the game. But instead, you wouldn’t say a damn thing. Have you had time to think? I’ve had enough of this. We need to get your head on straight before the next game. You’re our star player. We’ll never make the playoffs, if you don’t score for us.”
“So, no pressure at all.” I wring my hands in my lap.
“He should have pressure,” Dad replies. “Hockey thrives on competition and high stakes. You need to be tough. If you can’t handle that, then you can’t handle the NHL.”
Shay pales. “I can, coach.”
“It didn’t look like it yesterday.”
“Back off,” D’Angelo growls. “You’ve already roasted his goddamn balls once. What more do you want?”
“The truth.”
I should have known that Dad would know that there was more going on. He was a player himself, before he became a coach. Just like me, he’s been around this world too long to miss when something’s happening in his team.
D’Angelo’s lips thin. “It’s private.”
Dad launches himself out of his seat, leaning on the table. “Bullshit. Nothing’s private on the ice. Don’t you understand? This is all of your fucking careers on the line. If Bay Rebels doesn’t perform this season — if it isn’t seen to perform — then the board will fire me and every member of my staff. I have a responsibility to them and their families. Cody, Robyn, and Eden will lose their jobs too. Do you want that, Shay?”
Shay shakes his head, panicked. “I didn’t do it on purpose. And I was going to talk to you tonight. I’d already made up my mind. I simply wasn’t sure how. I don’t think this is the right way but…someone deliberately mind fucked me before the game.”
Dad’s expression gentles with worry. “Have you told the security team?”
“It happened only an hour before we had to leave for the rink. We haven’t decided how to handle it…”
“Then I’m telling you now,” Dad says, firmly. “Tell security. No one messes with my team. Your safety is the most important thing to me. Robyn, are you in danger as well?”
“I don’t know.” I have to be honest.
Dad is looking even more concerned, as are Cody and Michael.
“That’s it.” Dad crosses his arms. “I want all the details — now.”
“This person is targeting the private lives of Bay Rebels players,” I explain. “Setting up smear campaigns.”
“Melanie,” Cody gasps.
Shay takes a deep breath, and I’m blown away by how fucking brave he is. “There was a photograph. It brought back a seriously bad memory for me.”
Dad’s eyes lighten with understanding. “Are you talking about that photo of Jude dressed up with the whip? What’s the problem? I’ve had the misfortune of seeing at least a dozen pictures of him in the press over the years, which were lewder than that.”
D’Angelo smirks. “Guilty.”
“The other photograph,” Michael says, softly. His gaze is troubled but understanding, as he studies Shay. “The one with…?”
Dad’s eyes widen. “The blindfolded man is you?”
“Dad, he doesn’t want to talk about it,” I say more sharply than I think I’ve ever spoken to Dad before. He doesn’t react, looking more sad than angry. But then, he knows what it is to be exposed in the press. The difference is that in his case, it was for doing something wrong on the rink. “This is strictly confidential. The person who took those photos didn’t have Shay’s permission.”
Cody sucks in a shocked breath.
Slowly, Dad sits down. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t know if it’s illegal, but it should be.” D’Angelo’s expression is tight. “It’s revenge porn. But worse, the journalist is using it as a threat or warning.”
“It put me off my game.” Shay tilts up his chin. “It won’t happen again, coach. I hated most of my therapy in the past. But in this case, I think that I should try it. I don’t know how to get past this. I never dealt with what happened to me at the time. If I don’t now, then it could continue to affect me.”
Dad nods. “I’ll arrange it.”
“Thanks, coach.”
“Melanie Helt’s always been a bully.” Cody’s eyes burn with a fierce protectiveness as he glances between Shay and me. “She knew that she could get a rise out of me, whenever she bullied Ryn at high school. Don’t underestimate how dangerous she is. Even back then, she’d pick a victim, then sway most of class to target them, while not getting her own hands dirty. She could destroy someone innocent without even—”
“Innocent?” Dad crosses his arms. “Come on, this woman only threw childish insults at your sister. Don’t you think that when I went storming down to the school in your defense I checked? What I found was that you were no innocent, Cody. I’ve never been so embarrassed, as when I demanded to know who’d been bullying my boy, until he limped home with black eyes each day, only to have your teacher tell me that you were the troublemaker who started fights. You were lucky not to be expelled. At least take ownership of your mistakes.”
Shit.
This is exactly what Melanie manipulated everyone to think. It was the turning point in Cody’s life that wrecked his relationship with Dad and led to years of being treated like he wasn’t good enough.
And it was a lie.
Cody’s lip trembles. “I do own it. But I was protecting my sister.”
I reach across the table, and Cody desperately takes my hand.
Dad can’t quite keep the look of contempt out of his eyes as he notices the gesture.
Cody stiffens.
“He was standing up for me,” I insist.
“I thought that I was protecting your mom on the ice, when I got into the fight with the player that ended his career and could have killed him…and so, ended mine too,” Dad growls. “It’s not an excuse. You lost your temper because of some teasing, threw punches, then came home to cry about it like a—”
“Don’t.” My voice is cold. “Just fucking don’t.”
Dad looks startled. “I didn’t mean… This is in the past, right? The point is that this woman is only doing the same thing now. Cody knows that what happened at school is forgiven. We’ve moved on from it.”
“Have you?” Michael’s voice is dangerously hard. He turns to Cody, gently lifting his chin. “Do you want to go home?”
Cody’s breathing too fast; he looks dazed. “I don’t want to leave Ryn.”
“You do what’s best for you,” I say.
“Fucking run,” D’Angelo mutters under his breath.
Cody shakes his head.
Then he looks up to meet Dad’s eye; his gaze is fierce. “I need you to listen to me, Dad. I can’t keep coming to see you here, if I don’t feel safe. And the way that you speak to and about me, makes me feel really unsafe.”
Dad looks even more startled. “What do you mean? I talk the same way to everybody. You should see the way that I kick Jude’s ass. Plus, I’ve been breaking this newbie’s balls…”
He points at Shay.
I wince.
I’m holding my breath, glancing between Dad and Cody.
Cody’s needed to say this to Dad for years. But will Dad truly listen? Will he understand?
“It’s not the same.” Cody pulls his hand back from mine and clenches it. “I’m your son. The things that you say to me are toxic. They make me feel like shit. I know that I’m not as good or as smart as Ryn is. But I’ve still become a physical therapist. I may not be a jock like you hoped I would be. But I’m an awesome surfer. You’ve never come to see me in any of the competitions but…I’m good. I simply want you to spend some time with me, where you’re not reminding me of the past. Try to understand that I’m not the same as you but that doesn’t mean I’m worthless.”
Dad takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I never thought that you were worthless, Cody. Hell, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I didn’t want to see you fuck up your life like I did. I was worried, when you seemed so angry all the time, that you would. But I’m going to try. How’s that, son?”
Cody looks like he’s trying hard not to cry. “Good. I hope.”
Dad’s looking deeply uncomfortable. He doesn’t do emotions.
Instead, he grabs his beer and takes a drink like he’s looking for inspiration in the bottle.
“Do you want to go boating with me next weekend?” He mutters.
Cody and I freeze at the same time.
Dad’s never asked him before.
“Michael as well?” Cody asks, carefully.
I don’t blame him for not wanting to go alone.
Dad hesitates, before nodding. “Sure.”
“Okay.”
“And while we’re boating,” Michael’s eyes gleam, as he pulls Cody against his chest, “you’ll treat my husband with respect. He’s an amazing man. If he decides that you deserve a place in his life, then you’ll discover that. And it will be a privilege.”
Dad stares at Michael for a long moment.
Inside, I’m cheering.
Michael has just out Alphaed the Alpha.
“This doesn’t solve the problem with the journalist.” Dad’s gaze swings to Shay. “She did more than throw insults around this time. Plus, it impacted how you played. I can’t have you distracted on the ice like that. I may have you sit out the next game.”
My heart sinks.
Shay’s leg nudges against mine, and I wrap my arm around his waist.
He’s gone unnaturally still.
“There is no way,” D’Angelo’s words are icy, “that I am playing tomorrow without Shay.”
“Remind me again who the coach is?” Dad sits down, glowering at D’Angelo. “You’re like my son-in-law at this table, but on the ice, I’m the god in charge.”
Unfortunately, it’s true. Within the Bay Rebels, Dad holds the power.
“If Shay’s name ever gets out attached to that photo,” I say, “then it’ll look like you’re victim blaming. Not playing him in light of it will ruin both Shay and the Bay Rebels. It’ll look like you’re shaming him for being a sub. Whereas, if he’s still playing, it’ll look like Bay Rebels doesn’t give a fuck about a player’s personal life and is backing him, especially if we need to go after Melanie in the courts, as well as the woman who…”
“Abused me,” Shay’s voice is tight.
To my relief, Dad nods. “Do you want me to contact the cops? Make it official? We have a good lawyer too. We can make sure that everyone involved is prosecuted. I don’t like to be on the defensive. We should go on the offensive, going after the journalist who’s attacking the talented stars of this town’s beloved team. You’re right. I don’t give a damn about your personal lives. She’s the one breaking the law.”
Fuck, I wish that we could do that.
Yet the scandal that it’d cause would put all of us under the spotlight. If we thought that press intrusion was bad now, it’d be nothing compared to what it’d be after a scandal like that.
We’re just about managing to keep our relationship secret now. We couldn’t then.
I doubt that Shay wants to have his past picked apart by vultures in such a public way after everything that he’s been through — or his twin.
Is it fair that simply because you’re a sports star or celebrity, when you’re assaulted, you need to weigh up reporting it against the knowledge that everybody will learn every detail and you’ll likely be torn apart in court?
“Anderson and Bronwyn already warned me, as PR Director, against allowing anything from the player’s private lives destabilizing this season,” I reply. “But it’s still Shay’s choice.”
Shay looks down, and his golden hair falls over his eyes. “I can’t do it, love. I’m not ready for everybody to be talking about me like that and to have to relive it over and over…it’d wreck me.”
“How about we turn the tables?” A sudden thought shoots through me. “Why don’t we investigate her? I’ve been drawing mainly blanks in the journalistic and PR worlds but that could be because people are scared of Melanie. No one dares talk. But we could hire someone professional to look into her.”
“Is that ethical?” Dad asks.
“Is she?” D’Angelo drawls.
I turn to Shay, loving the flicker of hope that lights his gray eyes for the first time since that photograph of him was published. “We’ll hire a team and get them working on this. We’ll find out why she’s targeting the Bay Rebels. How she’s doing it. We’re going to fight back. Then we’ll be the ones with the secrets.”