Page 94 of Play Maker

I nodded, relieved, and pushed open the door, then headed out into the hallway, trying to ignore the icy shivers that didn’t want to leave my body. And when I spotted my parents, standing by the front door, all dressed up like they were at a cocktail reception rather than a hockey game, that dread turned to full-on panic. My mother had her blond hair tied up, wearing a scarlet coat trimmed with fur. My father was busy on his phone, per usual. They were standing so far apart you wouldn’t’ve assumed they were together. Nothing had changed.

Until they noticed me, and suddenly, stalked in my direction, a wall of perfume, pearls, and power suits.

“Venetia. Bradford,” I announced, using their first names, knowing they hated it.

Immediate scowls greeted me. The battle on the ice was done but there was plenty of game left to be played.

“Stop doing that Axel, it’s so unseemly,” my mother sneered and stepped closer, reaching for my arm.

I didn’t want to make a scene, but I pushed her hand away. A wave of Opium, her signature scent, choked me, and I bit back a cough.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“I told you, we wanted to see your game,” my mother insisted, her face an emotionless mask. “You seem to be playing better than you did at Langston. Maybe this hockey thing isn’t such a stupid idea after all.”

“Well, gee, thanks,” I snarked as I stared at her, my gut churning. “I work hard and I’m getting better with every game. But I know that’s not the reason why you’re here. You couldn’t give a shit about me or my hockey career. What’s going on?”

“We’ll need next year’s tuition money back,” my father stated.

“What are you talking about?”

“If you push yourself and get drafted as a professional hockey player, you’ll make a lot of money. Why bother finishing college?” my mother added. “And we need the money. I want it transferred back to our account this week.”

I stood there in shock. I knew they had cash flow problems, but I didn’t think they’d stoop to this.

“You can’t be serious?” I hissed.

“Does it look like your mother’s joking?” my father asked, his eyes boring into me. “She told you about the deal. Until I get this closed, I need all the cash I can find.”

“Get a loan,” I snapped.

“Same goes. And don’t be so fucking naïve, Axel,” he hissed. “You don’t think we’ve gone down that route? Just transfer the money and be quiet about it.”

“And if I refuse?”

My father shook his head. “You don’t want to do that.”

I swallowed hard, glancing at the determined expressions on their faces. They wouldn’t access my trust fund, would they? No, they couldn’t. Still, I should probably find a lawyer to confirm. Not that I’d be able to afford one at this point.

“And you don’t want me revealing family secrets,” I lobbed back.

My father stepped closer, and the warning glare had me preparing for the worst.

“You’re not experienced at this kind of game, Axel. Stick to hockey.”

“Fine,” I replied, tired of their bullshit and too wrung out to care anymore. “But I’m finishing my degree. I just switched majors and I’m not quitting.”

“That’s your choice.”

“Yes, it is,” I replied confidently even though I was anything but. I’d have to find a part-time job, stat, and then maybe two inthe summer. But I could do it. “I’ll transfer the money this week. If there’s nothing else, I’ve got to meet up with my team.”

I didn’t see Jace so much as sense him nearby.

When I glanced around, sure enough, he was waiting by the locker room doors with Kayden, Maddox, and Dane. He stared at me with a questioning look, like he was about to walk over to me. I shook my head. I wanted him by my side, but no way was I going to expose him to my parents.

“Have you spoken to Preston?” my father asked.

“We don’t talk anymore. I found out that, just like you, he’s a liar. Why?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

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