Page 91 of Penalty to the Heart

“Will you help me?”

“You don’t even have to ask.”

Chapter 17

Roxanne

I march into the Guardians’ offices like a woman possessed, clutching the newspaper in my hand with a tight grip, serving as a poor substitute for Trent’s traitorous neck. I walk up to Brigitte, her sunny smile slipping off her face the minute she sees the rage plastered all over my face.

“Is he here?” I ask, furious.

“Ah… yes… Do you want me to announce you, Dr. Seymour?” Brigitte stammers, not used to seeing this side of me.

“No need,” I state in a clipped tone before charging into Trent’s office without so much as a knock on the door.

Trent’s head lifts up off his tablet screen to greet me, his welcoming smile also vanishing the second he sees my menacing gaze.

“Mind explaining what this is about?” I demand, plopping the newspaper on his desk and pointing to the headline.

Caleb Donovan suspended.

What will become of the Donovan legacy now?

“Ah, yes. I knew I should have called you beforehand, but things escalated so quickly that I must have forgotten.”

“You forgot?” I raise my eyebrows so far up on my forehead that it’s a miracle they remain on my face. “You forgot to tell me that you have been planning to suspend the very player you begged me not so long ago to take on as a client?”

“First, I don’t beg,” he retorts just as threateningly. “And secondly, I disapprove of your tone, Dr. Seymour. I am still your boss.”

“Oh, fuck off with that boss crap, Trent,” I snarl, his eyes widening at hearing me cursing so brazenly. “I’m here for answers. So start talking.”

“I’m really starting to resent this kid.” He lets out a puff of air before running his fingers through his raven head. “Somehow, he’s managed to turn all the women in my life against me. First Piper, and now you,” he grumbles, getting up from his seat and walking over to the minibar at the corner of his office. He pours himself a whiskey on the rocks and looks over his shoulder to ask, “Do you want one?”

“It’s nine o’clock in the morning,” I remind him, still fuming.

“I’m well aware. Do you want one or not, Roxanne?”

I nod.

“I figured as much. It seems that it’s going to be one of those days.”

After making me a drink, Trent hands me the glass and walks over to stand in front of his floor-to-ceiling window to stare at the Boston skyline.

“Now, before you make any further insulting accusations against my character, let me be clear that it was never my intention to suspend Donovan. I can promise you that much. But even you can appreciate the precarious predicament he has put the team in with his latest outburst at Saturday’s game. Preston has been itching at the seams to assert his authority over the team since he bought it, so it was just bad luck that Donovan was all too eager to give him the excuse he needed. It was out of my hands the minute the media showcased a live feed of him assaulting one of his teammates.”

“I don’t believe that. Nothing is ever out of your hands. If you wanted to do something to spare him, you would have.”

He goes silent for a moment, running the pad of his finger around the brim of his glass.

“You’re right. I could have stood up for the kid. But I chose not to.”

“I knew it,” I fume, taking a large sip of the whiskey to help me swallow the bitter pill. “I don’t understand. I really don’t. You were genuinely concerned about Caleb not a week ago, and now you’ve fed him to the wolves. What changed?”

“Like I’ve been trying to explain to Piper all weekend, my loyalties will always lie within the team, not the individual player. Caleb has become too much of a liability. And that’s on you, Roxanne. Not me.”

“On me?” I ask, appalled he would try to place the blame for his poor actions on me.

“Yes, on you,” he repeats sternly. “I sent the kid your way so you could help him, but he’s somehow gotten worse!”

---