19. TATE #2
But I can’t look him in the eyes anymore, something that doesn’t happen with me. It’s time to move things in the direction of having Uncle Jasper’s fortune released to Luke, whether I like it or not. I’ll just have to make everything else work.
It has to be done artfully, though, if I’m going to secure that commissioner position as well. The key is to lead Luke on, just for a little while longer, delay, delay, delay until it’s time.
I’ve been warming Luke to the idea of Ryan all season in different ways.
I need Luke to believe he’s helping me. That’s the way it’s always been; that’s the role Luke wants in my life.
He lives to be my hero, and I’ll always give that to him.
By doing that, he’ll never suspect that I’ve been doing the same for him.
I met with him in his office.
“I need your help again, Luke,” I said. “I fucking hate that I do.” I made sure to sound as pitiful as possible. Luke has a misplaced soft spot for me.
“Does this have something to do with Ryan?” he asked.
How he knew that I have no fucking idea. Was it on my face?
“Yes. He’s the one. I want to marry him.” Saying the words to Luke brought something to my voice I didn’t expect. Emotion. I had to lock that shit down, tighten my body, slow my racing heart. If there’s anyone who will clock a shift in my demeanor, it would be Luke.
“You seem thrilled,” he said with an inflection of sarcasm.
Good, that was good. He’d read me as either annoyed or mad about it. But I was thinking about Ryan, and the last thing I need to do is think about Ryan, which is annoying and infuriating. Ryan needs to stay out of my head.
“I’m not, but it doesn’t matter. Married is married, right? That’s the requirement. Unless there’s anything else you want to share with me?”
My tone held a suggestive undercurrent. Because how dare Luke fall for Uncle Jasper’s twisted games.
I might be a lot of horrible things, but I fucking idolize my brother.
He’s who I wish I could have been, and Jasper knew it.
He wanted to take that from me, too. Jasper didn’t just control you; he made sure you had nothing else to rely on but him.
Jasper using the marriage clause to pit Luke and me against each other pisses me off so much it was easy to look angry for Luke’s benefit.
The guilt on Luke’s face was predictable. He looked like a kicked puppy.
“It was just a stupid test, Tate. I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s arrange the marriage—that is, if you still want the fortune—and then you can divorce him after an appropriate amount of time.”
My hand clawed the desk against my will. I wished it was Ryan’s heart beating under my hand. The only thing that seems to bring me any comfort.
“I’m not like you, Luke,” I said quietly. “I try to be, I want to be, but I’m not good like you are.”
He shook his head. “What do you mean? You’re so much better than—”
“I don’t love Ryan,” I said. “I need to own him. I know you’re not supposed to own people, Luke, and I don’t give a fuck. I have to have him.”
My voice was nothing but a raspy husk, stolen by the exhaustion of keeping myself away from Ryan. This is why I don’t talk or think about Ryan.
“Where does Ryan stand in all this? I’m not doing anything unless I’m sure he’s consenting, and I hope you wouldn’t either.”
“I’m not that kind of monster, Luke. But clearly, you think I am,” I muttered. “He’s agreed.”
“Why?”
“He wants out from under his father’s thumb, but he needs money and hockey connections. I have the connections; I just need the money.”
“So, you’re using each other. Great.”
“We both get something we want, what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, I guess.”
“I could never have what I want—what I need—any other way, Luke. I know you want me to fall in love, especially now that you’re fucking heart eyes for McKinnon. But I’m different than you are.”
Then I was treated to the fucking inquisition, aka my brother. Sooooo many questions about Ryan I wasn’t in the fucking mood to answer. Hell, I wasn’t even ready to answer them. Usually, I have all my lies tucked away in a file in my head, ready to go.
This time, I scrambled. Fed him bullshit that should have fit my usual bill, but it didn’t go over as smoothly as I planned, and we quasi-argued in the restrained way Luke does.
But I did it, and it’s bought me some time. So long as Luke can be sure he’ll have his money by the end of term, that’ll calm him down for a bit. Hopefully a few months.
We dealt with McKinnon’s situation for a couple of weeks; it’s almost blown over, but then Ace had a family emergency, and Luke went with him to the hospital for a few days. But now they’re back, and things are moving quickly around me.
Patrick stops by my office.
“The hockey team’s still okay, right? If I know you, and I think I’ve gotten to know you pretty well over the years, you’ll pull through with something.
” He does the nose touch thing, like we’ve got a secret.
Seriously, who does that? And how does he think something up your sleeve works, if not for something fucking shady?
I doubt he wants that, but the man’s clearly watched too many sappy nineties sitcoms where the hero pulls through.
McKinnon’s the one who has the sitcom, rom-com life. Patrick should be touching his nose around Ace. Not me.
“We’ll be fine,” I lie. I give him the thumbs up. He doesn’t seem to think it’s rude. Or is it just the emoji version that’s rude?
“I knew it. How’s the boyfriend?” he asks.
“We eloped,” I blurt out. Only because it will distract him from more serious matters. Not because I’m dying to tell someone.
“That’s excellent news! Congratulations. This calls for a party. I know just the place.”
“Ah, um …” Fuck. Parties. I forgot that people have those. Now I’m spluttering. I don’t splutter. “That is to say, it’s still a private thing. I haven’t even had the chance to tell my brother yet.”
“You told me before you told your brother?”
I nod. No one ask me why. I don’t know either.
“I won’t betray your trust, friend. Haven’t so far. Um, which leads me to something. I wanted to break the news to you first.” He rubs the back of his neck. “This was a business decision, Tate. I hope this won’t ruin our friendship.”
“What did you do, Patrick?” I emphasize the last part of his name. I don’t mean for it to come out like a threat, but it does, some of my real Tate persona slipping in.
“I got a call from Shae McKinnon, explaining the situation between your brother and Ace. You know Ace is like a nephew to me,” he says quickly.
“Shae meant well, and any other season, I could have overlooked their relationship, but with Ace’s most recent situation, I had no choice but to let Luke go. ”
That’s … fine. Luke wasn’t planning to stay beyond this year. He only did this for me. But I’ll never lose an opportunity to have someone owe me—or at least feel like they owe me.
“I see,” I say with the appropriate amount of disappointment, turning my brow and lips down at the same time. The way I tap my fingers, slow and repetitive, probably makes him die inside just a little bit.
“I’m really sorry, Tate. I don’t personally have any issues with their relationship. I know your brother has to be a good man—he’s from the same family as you are.”
Okay, now I feel a little sorry for Patrick. He thinks I’m a good man.
God fucking dammit. So, Ryan can never come to this college. Not that I was planning on that, yet, but it takes it out of play as an option, and you never know when you might need a pivot. My frown’s not just for show anymore. I have a new problem on top of six other problems.
“I understand you have a role at this school, Patrick, but I think I need to be alone.”
Because I’d hate to run my fist through his throat. This is not the time for Patrick to follow the rules. If he wants to be a real friend to me, he needs to learn how to—at the very least—sidestep the rules. Overlook things. He’s too law-abiding for my friendship needs.
“Yeah, that’s fair. I’ll uh … I’ll be going.” Did his lip just tremble? Is he about to cry? Fuck. But I don’t have time for him. I’d better go check on my brother before he vacates campus.
The grass crunches under my sneakers as I make my way to the English department. My hand slides into my pocket to toy with the wedding ring I keep there. It’s not his heartbeat, but sometimes I just need to touch something that brings me closer to him, I guess?
Isn’t that fucking irony for you—the man who can’t be touched needs touch.
Something else in my pocket vibrates. I pull out my phone.
Dick Weasel. That’s Clarence. I change his name depending on what era we’re in for him.
He’s definitely in his dick weasel era. It’s just a text, which isn’t his usual style.
His mission in life is to get revenge and ruin me, blah, blah, fucking, blah.
But he also loves taunting me if he thinks he’s got something.
Spoiler alert: he never does. But it’s endless entertainment for me. He’s so bad at villainy. He reminds me of a kid that’s been introduced to fire for the first time. Poking at it. Tossing in full cans of pop to watch them explode.
Dick Weasel
Does Henry Savage know you married his son?
My blood freezes. Well, that’s not fucking funny. Or entertaining. Has he been taking lessons? I would have thought he’s picked up something from Uncle Jasper, but this is the first hint of talent in that arena.