Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
I liked that look, or at least I did as of right now.
She was talking, but she glanced my way, and her eyes found mine. She faltered.
I felt punched in the gut. Jesus. Who was this woman?
Pale smooth skin. Dark eyes. Dark hair pulled back in a French braid, though I could still tell it was curly. She had a stunning face—long and angular, with a cute little chin. And fuck me, but I knew her from somewhere…
There was a flicker of recognition, and I could’ve sworn I saw the same in her, but then it was gone. A neutral wall slammed in place.
I frowned at that.
“Griff. Seriously.” Someone nudged me from behind. It was Jesse Ray. “Press, dude.”
I shook out of whatever that had been to do my job. Press was part of that. There were going to be a lot of questions about the reason for the trade. But I wasn’t willing to give them even a morsel of truth. I’ve been protecting my sister all of my life, and that went double for my niece. The company line was that I’d asked for a change in teams, and my team had agreed to accommodate my wishes. There was no bad blood on either side of this trade. But it was a bullshit answer. The press knew it. The fans would know it too, and maybe it was the wrong move because they’d all keep talking about it until they learned the real reason I’d had to switch teams and switch cities within a span of two days.
I just didn’t care.
It was no one’s business that a few nights ago, my sister had found my sixteen-year-old niece unconscious and unresponsive. Zoey had overdosed.
7
RAIN
Ishowed up Monday morning at Mal Benoit’s office with two coffees. I handed him one. He seemed surprised but took it with a grin before sitting down. “You’re taking the job?” he asked.
I took a sip of my drink, placed it on his desk, and sat in a chair. “Tyler Griffin,” I said.
His eyebrows shot up. He rose to close his office door. “It was too big of an announcement,” he said as he returned. “I couldn’t risk it getting out.”
I realized he’d misunderstood me. “I’m not upset that you didn’t tell me. But I can’t take this job without disclosing a potential problem.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “With Tyler Griffin?”
“You did your research. You should know about the rivalry between him and my brothers.”
“Yes.” He drew out the word, seeming confused. “They’re rivals. It’s well known in the league, but how does that pertain to you? Your connection to them is not public knowledge, and you won’t be here when your brothers play us. Unless the issue is more personal than the league is aware of?”
Right. He knew about the public rivalry between them. It was well documented on social media. And people loved it because the hatred was real between my brothers and Griffin, but that wasn’t the whole story. “It began in high school.”
“Your teams were rivals?”
I nodded. “We met each other at the state championship every year for a while there.”
“I’ve seen a few of the older videos,” he confirmed.
I’m sure he was familiar with the chant my school was famous for: “Fuck you, Oakes. Fuck you, Griff.” Social media had still been new back then, but there were videos floating around with hundreds of my schoolmates chanting those words over and over in the arena for the championship game and also later in the hotel where we’d gathered. Twenty floors, with classmates on every floor chanting, “Fuck you, Oakes. Fuck you, Griff.” It was… It was something.
Their school had tried to counter, but it was futile. There was a hostility in Greenville that overpowered the students from Oakes. Sometimes I wished I’d transferred to another school. I could’ve done it. I was already working and supporting myself by sixteen. But I hadn’t wanted to waste my money paying rent somewhere else, not while our dad was still letting me stay at the house. Once I turned eighteen, he’d made it clear he expected me out of there. So I’d begun saving up as soon as I could start a job.
“I’m sure you’ve seen all sorts of interesting things on the internet,” I told him. “But I don’t believe Griff knows my connection to my brothers.” I winced, realizing I’d slipped and used his nickname.
“And you’re worried about that?” Mal’s lip curved down. “He doesn’t, right? I want to make sure about that.”
I shifted in my seat. “I don’t believe he does. But if he ever were to find out, we should have a plan in motion for my dismissal.”
“Dismissal?” His eyebrows arched high. “You’re talking about yours?”
“Yes.”
“You’re certain his reaction will be so negative? You won’t be able to do your job?”
I shifted again, looking away. “If he were to learn of my connection, he might connect other dots. The high school rivalry got personal at times.” I met Mal’s gaze but made sure not to actually see him. I looked through him. It’s the way I coped whenever thoughts about my family came to me. “I have no reason to believe he’ll find out. Barely anyone knew back then, and I have no contact with my family. But it’d be unprofessional of me not to let you know about the situation.”