Page 21 of Pucking Obsessed

Heine sharply turns to Shay. “At least I don’t look like I’ve been brawling in bars. But then, our newest player is dressed the part of biker trash.”

He laughs, high and nasty.

Shay’s shoulders hunch.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Unlike your signature Goth nerd becomes Bond villain look…?” I tilt up my chin.

Shay chuckles. “What happened to theno commentrule?”

“I decided that it could go fuck itself.” I stare hard at the owner.

I hope he knows exactly who I want togo fuck himself.

Heine is trying to touch and hit on D’Angelo. He’s degrading Shay. And he’s treating the Bay Rebels like his personal toy.

I tried to be professional, but this jerk thinks that he’s above things like processes, rules, and regulations.

So, why do I have to play by them either?

D’Angelo hisses out a sharp breath.

Heine turns and studies me for a long moment.

Then he cocks his brow. “You’re interesting. I like you. But you…” He points at Shay. “Maybe you have a black eye because you were a bad boy for your captain.”

Shay and D’Angelo both pale.

Without thinking Shay raises his hand to his bruised eye.

Heine looks triumphant like he’s worked out how the team truly works now and doesn’t care either way; he’s only been toying with both men as a cat does with a cornered mouse. “You should have tried usingyourthousand dollar concealer to cover the bruise.”

“I’d never…” D’Angelo looks caught between rage and shock. “Charles, you know me well enough to know that.”

“Do I?” Heine strolls back to the meeting room door, pushing it open.

“I hurt myself surfing,” Shay insists, helplessly.

“Sure.” Heine gives a fake smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, which says as clearly as if he’d screamed it that he doesn’t believe Shay. Then he gestures inside the room. “Everybody’s waiting for you. Mr. D’Angelo, I’ll be honest. I’m here because all I’ve heard from the board for weeks is bad news. They want tosacrifice you. This is your trial. I’ll be even more honest. I’m back because it’ll be fun to watch you struggle to escape the public burning. Your trial starts now.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Rebel Arena, Freedom

D’Angelo

I stalkinto the meeting room at Rebel Arena behind Heine.

If Heine looks around at me, he’ll see that my gaze is icy enough to freeze him to death.

Sadly, he doesn’t.

The fact that a man who once was unable to look anywhere in a room but at me, as if I was the sun that he revolved around, is now deliberately ignoring me, churns my guts with dread.

Shivers, which crept up my neck from the moment that I saw Heine again, make me shake.

I battle hard to lock down my emotions and look unaffected.

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