Page 74 of Eight Count Heat
"That's not an answer, Reese Catherine."
"It's the only answer that matters."
We stare at each other across the coffee table, wills clashing like blades. This is the fundamental disagreement that's shaped my entire life: Father believes my designation defines my capabilities, while I refuse to accept those limitations.
"Your mother and I have discussed this situation," Father says finally. "We think it's best if you return to Westlake immediately."
"What?" The word escapes before I can censor it.
"Tomorrow, after this competition," Mother clarifies. "We've already spoken with Dean Morrison. Your reinstatement can be processed by Monday."
"I'm not going back to Westlake." The statement emerges flat and absolute.
"You're twenty years old," Father reminds me. "A junior in college. Technically still our dependent for financial and legal purposes."
The threat hangs in the air between us. Cut off the money, withdraw support, force me back into the box they've constructed around acceptable behavior for Omega daughters of prominent families.
"You would do that?" I ask quietly.
"We would do whatever necessary to protect you," Mother says. "Even from yourself."
The words cut deep. Everything I've worked for, everything I've built at Sable Ridge, hangs in the balance of this conversation.
"The team needs me," I say desperately. "We're racing tomorrow. I can't just abandon them."
"You should have considered that before making impulsive decisions," Father replies. "Actions have consequences, Reese. It's time you learned that lesson."
Before I can respond, a familiar voice cuts through the tension.
"Excuse me." Gray approaches our little circle with the casual confidence of someone who belongs wherever he chooses to be. "Sorry to interrupt, but the team meeting starts in five minutes."
He's giving me an out. A graceful exit from a conversation that's spiraling beyond my control.
"Of course," I say, standing quickly. "Mother, Father, this is Gray Lockwood, our team captain. Gray, my parents."
Gray extends his hand with perfect manners. "Mr. and Mrs. Callahan. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Lockwood," Father muses, shaking Gray's hand with the careful pressure of someone assessing an opponent. "Are you related to Harrison Lockwood of Lockwood Financial?"
"His son," Gray confirms smoothly.
I watch my father's expression shift as he processes this information. Gray isn't just any college athlete. He's legacy wealth, old money, the kind of young man who belongs in Father's world.
"Ah," Father says, his tone warming fractionally. "I know your father. Excellent reputation in the financial sector."
"Thank you, sir," Gray replies. "And if I may say, your daughter is an exceptional coxswain. The team's improved significantly since she joined us."
"Has it?" Mother asks, studying Gray with new interest.
"Absolutely. Her strategic mind and leadership abilities are remarkable." Gray's praise sounds genuine rather than diplomatic. "We're lucky to have her."
The simple statement hangs in the air, a direct contradiction to everything my parents have just spent forty minutes telling me.
"Well," Father says, standing to signal the conversation's end, "we don't want to keep you from your team obligations."
"Thank you for understanding," Gray says politely. "Will you be joining us for tomorrow's race?"
"We'll be there," Mother confirms. "Supporting our daughter, naturally."
