Page 101 of Ice Dance Hockey

“You’re heartbroken. This is a rebound.”

“I’m seeing clearly for the first time.” It would be Oscar-worthy to stand up and storm out on him, but I refuse to cause a scene over this. It’s what he wants. I can see the social media headline now.Childish Elkington Brat Storms Out on Father.

Instead, I continue eating my breakfast.

“Then you’ll be digging your heels in?” he confirms.

“Yes.”

He rubs his forehead. “Someday you’ll have children of your own and you’ll understand the actions you’re forcing me to take.”

Breathing carefully, I control the panic that wants to consume me. Defying my father isn’t as easy as I’d like it to be, even without his threats of whatever he has planned. “Doing anything to Logan is equivalent to crushing an ant. I didn’t realize you were into acts of pure cruelty.”

“Logan is safe, for now, but he’d better not step one toe out of line.”

“He’ll be on his best behavior.” Logan spends all his time training or training for training. Or hanging out with Meyer children.

“He hasn’t sent me a single report on his training.”

And I know exactly where Logan will tell me to go fuck myself to if I try to make him. Maybe I could persuade him with a blow job?

Father ends up being the one to drain his coffee and leave without finishing all his breakfast, claiming he has a meeting he forgot about. I hate the emptiness that plunges into the depths of me. I’m used to Father’s praise. His cold shoulder is the same as sharp ice rain. Maybe I went too far. I don’t even know if things are going to work out with Logan. He’s on the fence about me.

No. I won’t think about that. But, dammit. I’m not used to this thing called doubt. It’s new.

One bright side to this morning’s disaster is that I have a brand-new excuse to see Logan. This calls for an emergency meeting. I pull out my phone to let him know that I’m on my way over.

* * *

“You were just here. I’m seeing way too much of your face, Elkington,” Mercy says. “Logan starts work in twenty minutes.”

“Logan is right here,” Logan says.

“You have twenty minutes. Nineteen now.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Jack smirks with a laugh in his green eyes. His lips press to Stanley’s fuzzy head.

“I might as well break the news to everyone, my father is up to no good. He’s planning to have Jack benched and, Logan, you’re going to have to be extra diligent about following the rules or I suspect he’ll turn to social media warfare.”

“This is too far, Elkington,” Mercy says. I didn’t expect it to go over well with him.

“Nah,” Jack says. “Merc’s bestie is the coach. He won’t let that happen.”

Unless he does something to Coach or has already. Eddie Arovini is powerful. Father would consider him fair game. I don’t mention it, though, since that’s still a long shot. It wouldn’t be wise for Father to fuck with the Arovinis with how much influence they have in Vancouver. That’s something he’d only resort to if he were desperate, and Father doesn’t get desperate as a rule.

Mercy isn’t as optimistic, glaring at me with his arms crossed from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter. “You’re supposed to protect our boy.”

My eyes flick to Logan who’s blushing at the mention of him being Mercy and Jack’s boy. There’s no chance in hell Mercy’s included me in that declaration. As much as Logan’s shy about it, he’ll like that. He’ll like what I’m about to say too, even if he won’t admit it.

“I am protecting him. I have a personal PR team on my payroll, not my father’s. I spoke to them on the way here and they’re watching in case he does something like that.”

“I’m not worried about it,” Logan says. “I don’t give a fuck about all that shit, Merc.”

Mercy huffs, realizing that Logan’s right. He’s immune to that kind of thing. Logan is fragile in other ways. That doesn’t mean Mercy has to like it, or me. Logan stands and tugs on my wrist, the same wrist with my Logan marks embedded into it. “I have ten minutes left. We’re taking this outside.”

I allow him to drag me onto the porch to the tune of Mercy slamming dishes into the sink. Logan winces, shutting the door. He stares and, for once, I let him lead. It doesn’t diminish my role in our relationship, I know exactly the kind of domineering presence Logan wants, but I’m realizing how much I need to factor in his feelings. That’s where I fucked up with Jack and Jack is a pleasing puppy, unbothered by much. Logan is the opposite. He’ll peel the skin off my balls if I don’t at least consider his feelings, not that I always have to go in that direction. Equally so if I don’t take care of him properly.

---