Page 136 of Branded
She was a badass, an adventure seeker, but beneath all of that was a big heart who loved deeply.
Pru was also a scout for the Breakers, the same team that Marcel played for, but their schedules didn’t always align. She was leaving early in the morning and would be gone a week then would return and work with the rest of the Player Development department to keep an eye on the young up-and-coming players they might one day draft and those currently under contract but not yet playing in the big leagues.
Marcel was a forward, one of the best on the Breakers.
He’d be in town, working hard, recovering from the brutalness of the game itself, staying fit and strong for the rest of the long season. The Breakers were about halfway through, and as I had learned in my year here, the toughest stretch of the season was still ahead of them. Soon the work would really get going, the team buckling down for play-offs, trying to win every game, to get every point so they would have a good berth going into the post-season.
See?
I might live in tight skirts and high heels, never go anywhere without my lipstick and have worked for charities and not for professional sports teams, but I was smart, I learned, and my most recent job up in New York had been for an organization that connected underprivileged kids with sports opportunities—equipment, coaching, leagues, travel fees for tournaments they wouldn’t otherwise be able to attend. Plus, I was friends with Pru, had been to more than my fair share of games over the years.
So, despite not being a sports fan, I knew plenty about hockey.
Which was why I knew that my friend needed to go home so that she could be fresh for her job.
“You should go get some sleep”—I glanced at Marcel—“both of you. Sleepless nights will be coming soon enough. You might as well?—”
Pru scowled. “We’re staying.”
“I’m—”
“We’re staying.”
This time from Marcel, Pru nodding her agreement.
And I looked at my friend’s face, at Marcel’s, and I was too tired to argue further.
So I just nodded.
Locked away how that made me feel in one of those rooms on the ground floor.
To keep it safe.
Five
Raph
I’d stood in the hall until Pru and Marcel showed up, watching from a distance, slipping out when Marcel had texted, saying they were in the waiting room.
I’d gotten them in, then left, walking out the sliding glass doors and into the night air.
All while ignoring the look that the nurse who’d eyed me while I’d carried Beth in gave me. Probably thinking I was a total asshole because I’d said I was her boyfriend but had promptly left Beth to her own devices in that patient room, and now I was leaving.
I already knew I was an asshole.
I’d made a pregnant woman cry—or at the very least, I’d added to her stress with all my yelling.
After she’d passed out, and when she was carrying my close friends’ twins.
Not getting paid for it. Not doing it for any other reason except that her friend and her friend’s man dreamed of having babies.
Giving up her body.
Her life.
Her fun.
And I’d made her cry.
