Page 36 of Leave Me Broken

His eyes crinkle because he hates that name, probably more than I hate him calling me Ashley.

His name is Charles Brian Burton and he goes by Brian or Mr. Burton in public. I just don’t care.

My eyes dart to the other two females in the back of the room sitting on a couch looking just as terrified and young—lacking decent clothing like the redhead scurrying across the room to join her friends.

“Like what you see, Ashley?” Chuck drawls.

I shake my head in disgust. I’d like to know why he has three girls, in less clothing than appropriate, hanging out in an office with two, now three old fucks waiting on them hand and foot.

Which leads me to “Jethro,” I greet him with the same animosity as Chuck.

He doesn’t even bother opening his mouth. I receive a single nod and that is all. His face is like a mirror of Payson’s from earlier. Stoic and obviously unhappy but hiding it with nothing.

“Please sit, Ashley. We were having a meeting, but it can wait since this was so important.”

Chuck walks behind his desk. Another power move, one I also use on Payson, but not because I’m a wanker with a small dick and trying to make up for it in my ego. I just like to see her eyes dilate the way they do when I’m in power.

I take a seat in the empty chair next to Jethro.

“Sasha,” Chuck barks, eyeing something over my shoulder. I glance and find the eyes of one of the girls, this one blonde, a few years older than the redhead but still young. What the fuck is this? “Get our new guest a drink please, sweetheart.”

I drag my eyes back to Chuck because seeing the fear in the girl’s eyes is enough to send a chill up my spine, and I don’t want him knowing that. I land on Jethro instead. He’s staring at me, anger seeping from every pore on his body. I wonder if he’s pissed I interrupted whatever the fuck their weird “meeting” is or if it’s something else. I’m not utterly repulsed by Jethro, I can’t place my finger on it but he doesn’t give off the same vile vibe as Chuck. But he is constantly hanging around Chuck, so maybe he is as bad and is just better at hiding it.

The blonde he ordered stops by my side, and with a shaky hand, she passes me a crystal glass with an amber liquid in it. I take it from her with a quick “Thanks” before I set the glass on Chuck’s desk.

His weak jaw ticks but he brushes it off with a fake smile. “What was so urgent you needed to see me on a weekend, Ashley?”

“An incident happened at the tournament today involving your daughter.”

“Yes, I recall her mumbling something about her tripping. I had Louise check her over and she is fine. I appreciate you checking in on her, but a call would have been just fine.”

I have no fucking clue who Louise is and I don’t care. “Alyssa isn’t the injured one.”

His cold blue eyes tell me nothing about what is crossing his mind. “Then who was?”

“Payson Murphy.”

Jethro shifts next to me as soon as the words leave my mouth. His phone comes out of nowhere and he rapid texts on it, still oozing that same anger. Chuck looks the opposite of angry. He looks . . . proud almost. No wonder Alyssa is a royal bitch. Her dad is king bitch himself. Who the fuck is happy when someone else gets hurt? Even if he doesn’t care about Payson, he should be worried why I had to drag my arse over here.

“And Payson’s injury has to do with my daughter how?”

I straighten my back. “We have good reason to believe Alyssa purposely tripped which resulted in Payson straining her MCL and ACL. A very serious injury,” I clarify in case he’s as stupid as I think and doesn’t understand.

He still doesn’t lose his stupid fucking smirk and I want to bloody punch it off of him. “Why would Alyssa hurt someone if there was a chance she could get hurt as well? That doesn’t sound very smart.”

Yeah, no shit. “Precisely.”

Finally, his smile fades. “You come into my home, accuse my daughter of purposely hurting her teammate, and now you’re insinuating she is not smart? Some nerve they teach you in Britain, init?” He attempts to mock my accent but I do not say init—ever. I lean back in my chair and give him back that same smug smile.

“I said no such thing. You thought I said it which tells me all I need to know on how you think of your daughter.”

I might not care for Alyssa but fuck, having a dad like the piece of shit in front of me would be enough to send me over the edge.

“I will not have you tell me what I think about my daughter,” he snaps.

Jethro stiffens next to me, lifting his eyes from his phone for the first time since I said Payson’s name. I wonder if he’s going to pull the lawyer card. Make sure no charges could be pressed or some shit. Fuck, I didn’t even think about that. Truthfully, the girls in the back threw me off and that’s probably what Chuck wanted. Fucking bastard but a grade-A manipulator. That is something Alyssa and him share.

I push to my feet, he does the same, but he could have stayed seated with the height difference between us. I’m mid six foot and I would doubt he’s even six feet. “I came to warn you about the repercussions from this because there are some. Alyssa is not invited to attend Week of Pink with the team, and she will sit the bench in team apparel, not uniform, and take book until I believe she has become a team player.” Which will probably be never. Luca and I want to kick her off the team, but we are already so low on numbers, and with Payson’s future unsure, I can’t afford to lose a player. Even a cunt like her. It will kill her sitting the bench, so hopefully it will be the wake-up call she needs.

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