Page 8 of All Your Pucking Secrets

When Dad is humiliated, he’s dangerous. But he won’t take it out on me. He’ll take it out on Mom and Soraya.

“I didn’t have much time to work on it,” I mutter, edging away from the weights in case he decides to throw one.

He puts his hands on his hips. “You had the same amount of time as everyone else.”

Not true. But as soon as I open my mouth to protest, I close it again.

“Didn’t you?” he demands, his voice rising.

“I’ve been busy with extra training since Shaw was injured,” I say, knowing even as the words emerge that I should have kept quiet. Dad won’t care if I’ve had to get a new winger up to speed. In his mind, I should be able to do that while getting straight As.

“You know I have trouble with biology,” I add defensively, hoping to distract him from my guff.

Dad taps his chin, his expression cold as the Arctic. “You know who else has trouble with biology?”

I tense. This isn’t good. I don’t know what’s coming, but I can tell I won’t like it.

“Me.” He grins, as if it’s all a big joke. “In fact, I’m so bad at biology that I might forget how frail your mother is if I see anything beneath a ‘B’ from you again. Wouldn’t it be a shame if something were to happen to her?”

I grit my teeth. My fists clench at my sides. I wish I could plant them in his face, but even though he’s older than me, he’s still just as strong—and a whole lot meaner. There’s a reason I don’t fight back. The few times I tried, it didn’t end well.

“I’ll work harder on the next biology assignment,” I say.

“Fortunately for you, I’ve already spoken to your teacher, and he’s agreed to allow you to write a new essay and resubmit it.” He sounds smug. “I’ve also hired a tutor to help you with it, but she won’t write the essay for you.”

I barely manage not to wince. If Dad has gotten me a do-over, chances are it was because someone within the school administration put pressure on Mr. Harding. He’s absolutely not the type to let people start over.

As for the tutor… Knowing Dad hired her makes me nervous. She’ll probably be reporting back to him on my progress, which means I can’t stretch the truth.

I stride to the squat rack and start loading the ends of the bar as dread swirls in my gut. I can’t be benched from the hockey team, but I don’t understand why Dad cares if I just pay someone else to do my assignments. Half the guys on the team do that.

“Are you listening?” he snaps.

“Yes, sir.” I finish loading the bar because I can’t bring myself to face him.

“Good. I expect you to do your best. It took a lot of doing, but I managed to persuade the top student in class to tutor you.”

Translation: he shelled out a lot of money.

“Thank you,” I say, knowing it’s expected of me.

Then the rest of what he said sinks in. The top student in class. I have no doubt who that is, and I hate the idea of her learning that I’m stupid enough to need help. He probably told her about the ‘F’ too.

“Aren’t you grateful?” he demands.

“Of course.” I turn and contort my face into the closest thing I can manage to a smile around him. “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“You’d better, after the lengths I went to for your worthless ass.”

Some people might flinch if their father called them worthless to their face, but it’s not even the first time he’s said it this week.

“Nothing less than a ‘B’,” he says, echoing his earlier words. “You start tomorrow.”

I nod, and he pivots and stalks out of the room.

A shiver ripples down my spine. I’ve always considered the home gym to be my sanctuary. Any time he enters, it puts me on edge.

Crash!

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