Page 142 of Pucking Obsessed

Colton appears to sober, straightening. “Who says that I want a second chance? But you’re right. You did pick me up. Groomed me like you did all the other vulnerable men withdaddy issues.”

Colton’s gaze slides to D’Angelo and then Shay.

The pattern is obvious now that it’s been pointed out.

Yet Dad’s only been trying to help these men, hasn’t he?

He told me that he wanted this newest team in the NHL to be one that offered the chance of redemption to players who were too difficult (because of their issues on the ice or need for therapy), to be selected by other clubs.

My skin crawls, however, when I realize that there could be another side to it as well.

Players like that are vulnerable to being controlled and exploited. They’re more likely to worship Dad for saving them.

D’Angelo does.

He’s suffered his worst fears to save Dad.

“Bullshit,” Dad explodes. Shay flinches. “Get the hell out of my house, you ungrateful asshole. I made you.”

“Youownme.” Colton hurls his glass against the wall.

It smashes, splattering beer across Dad.

I gasp. Fear rushes through me.

“Keep back,” D’Angelo mutters.

He’s watching the two men intently, however, and I can tell that he’s processing every word that they’re saying.

Colton seems too drunk to watch his words like he normally does.

We can’t miss this.

Rage reddens Dad’s face, before he rams Colton against the wall, crunching over the shards of glass.

My skin prickles with a cold sweat.

I’m trapped in childhood memories of when the same rage would transform Dad’s face, but it’d be Cody who was grabbed by the ear and yanked into the study for punishment.

I’m shaking.

“I’ve got you, love.” Shay’s expression is grim.

His arm tightens around my waist.

“Hit me,” Colton slurs. “Prove that you’re just like my Old Man. You know what he did to me, after I failed try outs. But make a joke out of it. Go on.Hit me.”

“I’m nothing like your bastard Dad.” Dad shakes Colton. “Butyouare.”

Colton looks like he may cry. My chest is tight.

“I’m drunk, but you’re drunk on your power over us.” Colton meets D’Angelo’s gaze over Dad’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me that you don’t understand my bid to dethrone coach. You’re a control freak. You must feel as trapped as I do. Don’t you hate coach?”

D'Angelo is breathing too fast. His hands are clenching compulsively.

I glance between Dad and him.

Dad lets go of Colton with a shove, turning to D’Angelo. “Jude?”

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