Chapter 13 #3
He shook his head, unable to look me in the eyes. “I’m not here because of Dad. I’m here because I need a favor.”
I couldn’t remember the last time my brother had bothered asking for a favor. “Okay. What?”
“I’m moving to a place with some other guys.”
“What happened to the apartment you’re staying in?”
“Can’t afford it any longer. Time is running out.”
“So Dad made you an offer you refused then he cut you off?”
“Yep. Something like that. He’s got a new project in the works and wants me to become the managing director. If I don’t make pros this year, I’m completely cut off.”
I shouldn’t laugh as it wasn’t funny in the least. That’s how controlling our father had been. However, he’d never been supportive when Dad had come down on me. “I’m sorry, Jag.”
“No, you’re not and I don’t blame you. I’ve been a shit to you.”
“Yeah, you have.” I leaned against the hood of his car. “But you had your reasons.”
“Maybe.”
“Why do you need my help?”
My brother’s swagger was intense. He’d had much of his life handed to him on a silver platter, but I could tell he was struggling. Why I wasn’t certain.
“Why don’t you get one of your hockey buddies to help you?”
“I’ve been with the team for a few weeks. Trust me when I tell you I don’t have any friends. Everybody thinks Dad bought me a place on the team. Little do they know he couldn’t give a shit.”
“You never talked about what happened in Cleveland.” I’d been away at college and as soon as Jag had graduated, he’d been drafted to an AHL team back East. I honestly didn’t know the name. That’s how distant we were as siblings.
He laughed. “I lost my cool.” With a look, he shook his head.
“I had yet another shitty conversation with dear old Dad and it put me in a mood. I took it out on another player. Yep. I made a mistake and the owner torched my contract. I was lucky the dude recovered or I’d have never gotten the job back here.
As it is, I need to prove myself or this is it, Chelse. I’ll be working with Dad.”
“There are other choices. You don’t need to go work for him.”
He ripped off his sunglasses and for the first time, I noticed an entirely different emotion in his eyes than I was used to.
Fear. “You don’t get it. Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but our father is powerful enough he’ll make certain I can’t get a damn job flipping burgers.
I’ll be forced to crawl back to him with my tail between my legs.
I can’t do that. I won’t. I fucking love hockey. ”
In the years of being brother and sister, I’d also never heard him talk about how important hockey was to him. “And you’re good at it.”
The way he snorted was acceptance that I’d only watched him play a couple of times and not in a while. “Yeah, I know how much you hate hockey.”
“It’s not the game. Just the assholes who play it.”
My statement allowed him to grin. “I can’t blame you. I don’t want my sister dating another hockey guy. I feel like that fiasco was my fault.”
“You introduced us. You didn’t ask him to cheat on me.”
“Nah. No matter what you think of me, I’d never do anything to hurt you. About time I started being your big brother. We are living in the same town now.”
I wasn’t certain if he was making an invitation to try to create closeness, but we really were two very different people. “I can take care of myself. Do you have that much stuff?”
“Just about everything in the place is family owned.”
It took me a few seconds to realize why this was so hard for him. “Dad’s going to be there snatching the keys from you. Right?”
As if completely defeated or beaten down, which our father was famous for, he nodded. “Yeah. Just another way of humiliating me.”
He couldn’t ask a buddy to help him because our father had no filter. Thomas Black would enjoy taking the opportunity to share with anyone in the room why his son was a fuckup. At least I knew what to expect.
“I’m sorry, Jag. I really am.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but it would be a lot easier if you were there.”
Only I could understand the restraint it took to keep from lashing out at our father. Backtalking as a kid meant losing friends, birthday parties, our video games. As we’d gotten older, we’d learned everything that mattered was easily taken away. A puppy. A car. A scholarship. Everything.
Jag had stepped up to him once and things had gotten physical. I wondered if my brother still had the scars from the beating he’d received years ago.
“Of course, I’ll be there.”
He appeared so relieved I was even angrier with our father. “One load should do it.”
“Did you rent a truck?”
“Nah. No need.” One load in his sports car? Was he kidding me?
“When?”
“How about right now? Unless you’ve gotta work.”
“No, right now is fine.” At least that way I wouldn’t have a chance to back out.
He grinned as he headed to the driver’s side. “I meant what I said. I’m going to be your protective big brother.”
“And I meant what I said, you big lug.”
Right now, I hated my father more than before and I was even more determined to make certain he had no control over any aspect of my life.
No matter what I had to do.