Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
I don't want to risk doing it to Tia, either. The last thing she needs is for anyone to dig up her past because of my drama with my mother. Daniel Jordan has caused her enough pain without the press getting a hold of the story in some quest to lay my entire life out for the masses. I will lose my shit if she walks away from me because I wasn't careful enough with her.
Karsen clamps a hand on my shoulder. "We've got your back, brother. You know we do."
"Thanks," I sigh. This team has always had my back, but they can't handle our mother for me, unfortunately. That one is on me. "I'll go deal with her after practice."
I don't want to deal with her, though. I want to be back in Minneapolis, with Tia in front of me and my mother the furthest thing from my mind. I want it so badly it's a goddamn ache in the center of my chest.
"Hey," I say before Karsen can walk away.
He pauses, glancing at me.
"I need a favor."
"Name it."
"You know anything about Daniel Jordan?"
His brows furrow. "The center for the Pirates?"
"Yeah, him."
"Not much. I don't associate with pricks, you know that."
I grunt, not surprised he knows Jordan's reputation. There isn't much Karsen doesn't know. "Turns out, he's a fucking predator. I can't get into specifics or reveal names, but he likes to make bets about who he can sleep with and then publicly humiliate them after the fact."
"Jesus Christ," Karsen growls, his eyes narrowing. "You talking about Kingston's sister?"
I grit my teeth, refusing to answer that question. Doesn't matter if Karsen is my captain; I'm not breaking Tia's trust.
He must see something on my face because he doesn't push. Instead, he nods, his expression dark. "You don't have to answer me," he says. "Just know that I've got it handled."
"How?"
"I know people," he says, grinning savagely. "Like the coach for the Pirates. Trust me, if he has a spot on the team once I'm finished, it'll be a miracle."
"Shit," I whisper, gratitude rushing through me. "Thank you."
"You don't owe me thanks, brother." He pauses. "Is she good?"
"Yeah." I swallow. "She will be."
"Then that's all that matters."
I don't have to go looking for my mother. She's waiting on my porch again when I pull into the driveway, perched on the edge of a chaise like a made-up little doll. It's all smoke and mirrors. If the world knew what kind of ugly lurked behind her perfect mask, they'd never see her the same again.
She spots me before I even kill the engine, rising to her feet. She doesn't come to me, though. She waits for me to come to her.
I grit my teeth, stomping up the sidewalk to meet her.
"Briggs!" she cries as soon as I'm within earshot. "I've been waiting for you, dear."
"What are you doing here, Mother?"
"I came to talk," she says, wringing her hands like she's distressed. Like everything else about her, it's an act, though. It's always an act with her. "About Hattie."
Of course she did. She always makes it about Hattie at first, pretending she misses her or that she cares. It's never that, though. The reality is that our mother is smart enough to know that Hattie's the only reason we tolerated her for as long as we did. She thinks Hattie is her way back into the fold, that if she just pretends for long enough, I'll soften just like I have so many times before.
It's not happening this time, though.
"We aren't talking about Hattie," I growl, my hands tight around my gym bag. "You don't get to know anything about her anymore."
"But I—"
"No."
"She's my daughter!" she cries dramatically. "I deserve to know what's going on in her life."
It's funny. Harlan is the one who just got married, but she doesn't even say his name now, like what's going on in his life doesn't interest her in the least since he stopped sending her money.
"No, you don't. You lost that right years ago," I say. "And I warned you last time you showed up here that if it happened again, you wouldn't like the consequences."
"You can't threaten me, Briggs Gregory Ward."
"It's not a threat," I say, stepping past her. "It's a promise. Stay the fuck away from my sister. Stay away from my brothers. Stay away from me and—" I stop myself before Tia's name slips.
But my mother's eyes narrow anyway. "Who?"
Fuck.
"My teammates," I lie, my teeth gritted. Hell will freeze over before I tell her about Tia. "They told me you were at the arena this morning."
"Yes. Why weren't you there?" Her gaze darts across my face like she's searching for the truth. "You're never late to practice."
Goddammit.
"That's not your concern, Mother."
"I'm your mother, Briggs. Of course it's my concern."
She was never that, not really. I've played hockey in the same city since I was drafted, just so I'd be here for Hattie. I can count on one hand how many times this woman has appeared at a game. And every fucking time, she had an ulterior motive, something she wanted, something she needed, or some reason she needed to be seen. Maybe she cared once. But I think her ability to love died when Dad chose our well-being over her. She's resented us ever since, especially Hattie.