Page 44 of Pucking Obsessed

When I was a kid, Dad would retreat to his bedroom every Halloween.

I’d be left to look after Cody for the evening, trying to keep him as quiet as possible because I knew that Dad would be drinking himself into a stupor.

I dreaded what he’d do, if Code disturbed him in that state.

But now, Dad is putting on costume parties for his fucking players…?

He appears to notice the way that I’m thrumming with anger.

“It’swork, Robyn,” he says. “And this year, the party needs to be bigger and better than normal to show those assholes that they can’t intimidate a McKenna. They may be billionaires but they still can’t come into my town and team and push my players around like pawns on a chessboard.”

I run a shaky hand through my hair. “Is Code coming?”

“Your brother is only staff.”

I clench my jaw. “He’s family.”

Dad sighs. “I’m already going to spare an hour or something to take him boating tomorrow. Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to work on my relationship with him or whatever bullshit therapist speak? What more do you want from me? Would you like to come along and make sure that I’m playing nice? This is a crisis. I’m trying with your brother. But he’s difficult.”

“He isn’t. And if you want me at that party, then both Code and Eden had better receive invites.”

Dad looks at me, faintly impressed.

Dad may have power over my lovers, brother, and me. But I’m done with every single person who thinks that they can crush the people who I love: Dad, Colton, the board, and Heine.

Power isn’t good or bad

It’s people who choose to use their power as a weapon.

With his social anxiety, I have a feeling that Eden would rather spend an evening quietly at Captain’s Hall with the squirrel that visits him on the tree by his window and a good book, than go to a party with strangers (in fact, stay home to be tortured over a large event at Dad’s house).

Yet I’m damn well making sure that he’s not left off the invitation list.

I tilt up my chin. “Don’t be weak, right?”

“That’s my daughter.” Dad chuckles. “Charles made a mistake taking on our family.”

I hear what he’s not saying:He includes D’Angelo in his family.

I wish that D’Angelo could have heard him say that.

When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I hurriedly pull it out.

It’s Eden.

Shit, I hope that Eden hasn’t collapsed.

His post-concussion syndrome symptoms haven’t been as severe this last week. He’s still getting headaches, however, even if he doesn’t complain. I can only tell by his furrowed brow and the way that he squints in the light.

It worries me leaving him by himself in case of his bouts of dizziness.

“Hey,” I answer, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Eden replies. His voice, however, is tight with a dark rage that makes me instantly on the alert. “I uploaded the official photograph that I took at the beach of D’Angelo and Shay to our Bay Rebels social media account. It’s gone viral.”

I blink. “Isn’t that good news?”

“Not with the trolling and hate comments.”

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