Page 130 of Pucking Revenge

Gavin’s jaw clenches. “Newsflash, Brooks—you don’t own the goddamn team.” He points at my father. “He does. And you don’t have the authority to make managerial decisions.” He pounds against his own chest. “I do. And you weren’t the one who had your heart trampled all over on national television.” He nods at the door. “She was. All because of what? Pride? Is that what this is about? This isn’t like you. You’re not like this.”

“Because I wanted a goddamn shot!” I shout, my anger getting the best of me.

Beckett stands and rounds the table. Silently, he sits in the chair beside me and rests his hand on my knee.

I nearly jump at the unexpected touch. Then I blink at him, my often stern and cold older brother, baffled at the way he offers such gentle support.

He’s focused on me, his face a picture of calm. “A shot at what?”

Regret and disappointment spiral through me. They’re right. Going after Seb the way I did was selfish. I’ll own that. But if I could rewind the clock and take it back, I wouldn’t.

“At being with Sara.” I look from Gavin to my father, then back to Beckett. “I wanted her, and I didn’t want to hurt Aunt Zoe. I knew if she found out about Sara, then I could never have her. You would have sent her back to North Carolina in a heartbeat, and I would have lost her. I couldn’t lose her. I can’t lose her.”

Beckett nods. “We’re not sending her back to North Carolina.”

My father slides back from the table. “That’s not your decision.”

Beckett glares at him, but it’s Gavin who speaks. “It’s my decision.” He runs a hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing the fabric. “I have managerial power. She works for me. Thank you for coming in.” The nod he gives me is all business. There isn’t a hint of brotherly affection in his posture. “Expect an email regarding your suspension and the upcoming board hearing. Go home.”

I don’t move. All I can do is gape at the robot masquerading as my brother who’s sitting across the table.

Beckett squeezes my arm. “Come on, I’ll ride down with you.” He stands and waits for me to collect myself. Then he guides me out of the office and toward a black town car out front. All the while, I can’t help but feel like the world is upside down. My funny, outgoing brother holds all the cards, only he’s been replaced by a cold, angry doppelgänger.

“I don’t know if I can forgive him if he fires her,” I admit to Beckett.

He nods thoughtfully, watching the scenery out the window as his driver heads toward my apartment. “Give him time. He’ll make the right decision.”

Beckett’s confidence doesn’t ease the dread that sits like a lead ball in my gut.

“If he doesn’t, just remember that it’s not because he doesn’t love you. Running a multi-billion-dollar company, shouldering the responsibility for decisions that could affect hundreds of employees, can be a challenge. We can’t always put ourselves or our family first. Sometimes we have to sacrifice to do what’s best for the whole. Either way…” Beckett shakes his head. “Just focus on Sara. Talk to her. Work with her. Don’t do what I did and try to fix it on your own. That was my mistake with Liv. I tried to make things right without her input, and in turn, I left her thinking I didn’t care about her.” He gives me a half smile. “Liv trained Sara. She’s a smart girl. She’ll land on her feet. Stand by her side. Hold her hand when you leap, and you’ll both be just fine.”

I stare at my brother in awe as we arrive at my building. “You’re really fucking smart now that you married, Liv.”

Beckett grins. “Tell me about it. Best ducking decision I ever made.”

I laugh for the first time in what feels like days.

Beckett shocks me again by leaning in and giving me a hug. We don’t do this nearly enough, but in this moment, I vow to make it a regular thing.

“Thanks, Beckett.”

I can hear the ruckus from the hallway outside my apartment. What in the hell? When I push my door open, I come face to face with the entirety of the Bolts’ roster. They’re spread out, taking up every inch of space between my kitchen and living room.

“Look who finally decided to show up for team dinner,” War crows, sauntering out of the kitchen carrying a tray.

“Don’t remember inviting you guys over.” I frown. “Not trying to be rude, guys, but now’s really not a good time.”

Aiden holds up a pitcher of yellow liquid and shakes his head. “It’s always a good time for tacos and margaritas.”

“Tacos?” I eye the packages War is doling out. “Is that a Taco Bell wrapper?”

War grins. “The only thing the Americans do right. Fake meat in a crunchy chip.”

My stomach rolls, and I fight back the urge to gag. “Don’t call it fake meat.”

McGreevey unwraps his taco and takes a giant bite. “I think it’s delicious. Now,” he says, talking around the food in his mouth, “sit down, and let’s figure out how the hell you got yourself suspended.”

Hands pressed to my face, I let out a groan. “You guys shouldn’t be here. Coach is gonna lose his mind.”

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