35. Jake
Lunch with June was a surprise. Being around her is turning into one of my favorite things, and Ryan outdid himself trying to show off his cooking skills. He didn’t make anything fancy, but hell if his steak wasn’t cooked to perfection, and the mashed potatoes the best I’ve ever eaten. Unfortunately, June had a busy day and didn’t hang out long.
At seven o’clock sharp, I walk through the door of Providence and spot my father and brother sitting at a table. I make a beeline to them and, without a word of greeting, pull out the chair across from the old bastard.
“You’re late,” my father says.
I won’t dignify him with an answer. He sets his watch five minutes ahead so he can be the first one in any meeting. He likes to start by bitching about other people’s tardiness. Even knowing his trick, I make a point to arrive at the right time. Fuck him very much.
A waiter walks over, and I order a scotch, neat. My father and brother are both drinking something strong. Maybe I should have ordered vodka just to piss him off, since he considers it trash, but I went to my favorite drink automatically.
“I’m here,” I start. “What do you want?”
“It’s been a long time since we talked. I’ve let you run amok for too long in this godforsaken city. It’s time to come home.”
“Home?” I shake my head, and derisive laughter escapes my mouth.
The waiter arrives with my drink just in time. I need alcohol to survive this conversation without losing my temper.
“Yes, home, Jakey. Where you were born and raised,” my brother pipes up.
“That means shit. Los Angeles is my home now.”
My father narrows his eyes. “For now. Hockey players get traded all the time.”
Dread licks the back of my neck. The asshole knows something. There have been rumors the Titans were looking to trade me thanks to my behavioral issues. But I’m at the top of my game, and if we keep winning, there’s no fucking chance they’ll get rid of me.
“True, but I have a no-trade clause in my contract. Guess which teams are on that list?”
Gregory grimaces. “You’re a child.”
I make a fist, dying to connect my knuckles with that condescending face. Instead, I take a large sip of my drink.
“That clause is a non-issue. I want you back in New York, and Miles is keen on bringing you to the Bobcats. He’s prepared to make an offer your GM can’t refuse.” My father smiles smugly.
Miles, the owner of the Bobcats, is another asshole. A billionaire who owns several pro teams but doesn’t give a damn about any of them. It’s all about how many championships he can win.
“I’d rather retire than play for that egomaniac.”
My father leans forward. “I don’t think you understand, Jake. You have no say in this. It’s a done deal. I’ll have you back in New York whether you like it or not.”
My spine becomes tense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can accept your fate like a good boy, keep what’s left of your reputation intact, and cash in, or I can let the world know about the mess I had to clean up eleven years ago.”
I grind my teeth until my molars hurt. I should have known he’d keep blackmailing me. He was bluffing yesterday. If I hadn’t come to dinner tonight, he wouldn’t have revealed anything. He wanted to know if he had any leverage over me, and I gave it to him on a silver platter. I’m an idiot.
I drain the rest of my drink, then set it back on the table, hard. “Like I said, I’d rather give up hockey forever than play in New York. If you want to tell the world what I did, fucking do it.”
I push my chair back and stand, taking great satisfaction in the look of surprise on my father’s and brother’s faces.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I agreed to come, but I never said I’d stay for dinner.”
“You might be willing to throw your career out the window, boy, but you’re not the only one with skeletons in the closet. Would you risk your roommates’ careers too?”
My nostrils flare. I should have known he’d have another nasty trick up his sleeve. But I won’t make the same mistake and cave. He’s a snake; there’s a high chance he’s lying through his teeth.
“You’re grasping at straws, Father. You never cared about me. Why the fuck do you want me back in New York?”
“I might think little of you, but you still carry my name. I’m sick and tired of seeing you drag it through the mud.”
My jaw drops. I’ve always known my father’s ego was bigger than all of New York. I’m not even upset that he doesn’t care about me. I accepted that reality many years ago. But to say I’m dragging his name through the mud is a whole new low for him.
“That’s too fucking bad.” I turn to leave.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” he grits out.
I ignore him and keep walking. My pulse is pounding in my ears as I stride toward the exit. I’m so fucking angry; the smartest thing to do is leave. I shove a healthy tip into the valet’s hand so he can bring my car out as fast as possible. While I wait, Gregory finds me. Fucking hell.
“Go away, Greg.”
“I will once you hear me out. You’re making a huge mistake, Jake.”
I glare at him. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t. At least not about you. I’m looking out for myself.”
I snort. “No surprise.”
“If you disobey our father, he’ll destroy your life and the lives of your friends. He’s obsessed with getting you back home. God knows why.”
“If he comes for my friends, I’ll obliterate him and you. You can bet your life on it.”
Gregory’s eyes widen, but he quickly twists his face into a grimace. “What can you do to us? You’re nothing but a glorified thug.”
The rage burning hot through my veins is about to explode. Gregory obviously has a death wish, and he’s lucky the valet returns with my car before I can make paté out of his face.
I force a chilling smile. “Watch me.”