Page 16 of Pucking Obsessed

I tilt up my chin. “This is meant to be our vacation weekend, Dad. The first since the start of pre-season. You know how much the guys went through in order to protect you. It was difficult for Code and me to deal with learning all that shit about Mom and you. I need some time away from Freedom.”

For a moment, Dad’s expression softens. “This is an emergency. I wish that I could give you a break, but things aren’t that simple. Your brother will get over it. It’s you that I worry about. You don’t know everything that’s going on.”

Adrenaline skyrockets through me.

What the hellisgoing on?

What’s the emergency?

D’Angelo crosses his arms. “So, this is what your promises are worth, coach?”

Dad’s eyes blaze. “Look, I made a promise that you could have this weekend off and now I’m taking it back. Life’s tough. Suck it up. Now, get dressed, get packed, then get your asses back to Rebel Arena. Our entire future as a team is on the line.”

CHAPTER THREE

Rebel Arena, Freedom

Robyn

D’Angelo stalksdown the Rebel Arena corridor, which is painted white with low, blue lighting. His back is tight with tension.

Shay and I exchange a glance, following him.

Fear and anticipation thrums through me.

This is going to be bad.

I’m dressed in an ivory suit with a silk blouse that’s so creased, I wish that Eden had ironed it. It was the first thing, however, that I snatched out of my suitcase to drag on.

I slip my hand into my pocket just for a moment to stroke over the angel wing shell that Eden gave me.

It’s my lucky charm.

Then my stomach rumbles. I clutch my middle with a grimace.

We missed lunch, packing up and rushing back to Captain’s Hall in order to attend this emergency meeting.

We’re about to go into this thing blind. From a PR (and any other perspective), that’s dangerous.

Is this an ambush?

What the hell is going on?

I hate feeling like I’m marching to my own trial and I can’t build my own defense because I don’t know what I’ve been accused of.

Dad used to pull off this trick, when Cody and I were kids.

One winter, Dad summoned us mysteriously to line up like we were in an army drill in the middle of the lounge, before bed.

He demanded that weconfess.

I still don’t know what for.

We stood there for three hours, until my younger brother collapsed. I immediately confessed just to have Cody sent safely to bed.

Dad harrumphed and told me that he knew I was covering formy bad little brother.

By the next morning, it was like Dad had forgotten the whole thing.

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