My hand automatically reaches out, bracing myself on the wood counter as I try to understand what just happened and figure out what to do. Carter might not want to answer my calls, but I have to warn him about what his father is up to. I need to reach someone who cares enough to keep Cash as far away from Carter as possible. If he’s blindsided, it’ll be even worse, and Cash Barlowe will not be Carter’s undoing. He can’t be. For Carter’s sake.
36
CARTER
Whoever is ringing the doorbell isn’t going away. What I really want to know is how the hell they bypassed the gate that is supposed to keep people out in the first place. And being that less than a handful of people have the code, no one should be ringing my damn doorbell.
As I pull open the front door, Dundee’s pissy stare confirms it’s one of the few in possession of the gate code.
“About damn time, Lowe.” Dundee pushes past me, stepping into my house.
“Come on in.” My hand slings the door closed behind him. Here it comes.
“The league reached a decision. Ten-game suspension and a hefty fine. Then, I expect to see your stubborn ass back on the field.”
“Not gonna happen.” I walk to the formal living room and drop onto the stiff leather sofa. “Shouldn’t you be there now, Coach?” It’s still early in the morning, but Dundee is usually there before most.
Dundee stands in front of me with his disapproving and furious gawk aimed at me. “I would be if it weren’t for having to track down your miserable ass.”
“Well, message delivered. My agent knows the deal. He’ll be in touch with the team.” Joe was less than thrilled at the news, but I have a feeling it was more to do with his pay cut than worrying about the contract I’m under with the Coyotes. I couldn’t give a shit. I told him whatever had to be done, do it. I don’t care what it costs me, I have to get out of the contract that my father arranged.
“That easy, huh?” Dundee takes an assessment of me. His disapproval clear but he keeps a flat tone.
What part of this is easy? None of it feels easy.
Coach takes a deliberate step forward. “Never pegged you for a quitter.”
My fury grows but I try to remain calm on the outside. “There’s a difference between quitting and being done with the bullshit.”
“The only thing that’s bullshit is you letting Cash Barlowe influence the choices you make about your career. All those years you worked your ass off, down the drain.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“Why? So, you could act exactly like this?” He gestures to me before slinging his hand in the air. “It’s one season. I saw your talent and knew you were destined to be ten times the player your father ever was. And I wanted it to be under my watch. I just needed to get you to prove yourself to the team, so they’d keep you here. That’s when I was going to tell you. After you knew this was your team because it’s where you should be.”
“It’s his team. It’ll always be. That much is clear.”
“You have a choice. Step up and play the damn game. Or stand down and play his. Pick wisely, Carter, because you deserve better than the shitty cards Cash has dealt you time and time again.”
“I’m done.” I repeat the words, trying to block out Dundee’s. How can I step onto that field knowing the sole reason I’m there is because of my father?
His head drops as he shakes it. “You’re gonna regret it.” Just before he reaches the door, he turns to look at me. “I had a curious visitor at the stadium yesterday.”
“Okay.”
“She wanted to warn me about Cash. She said he has some kind of plan to ruin your career, and she was worried about you. Avery cared enough about you that she waited outside the gate, hollering at every person she saw until someone escorted her back to my office. And you can’t get off the damn couch to save yourself.”
My eyes focus straight ahead on the wall. “Was she okay?”
“Ask her yourself.”
The door slams, echoing through the empty house, and that only serves to make me feel worse by the second.
I want to ask her. I want to get off the couch. I want to save myself. But the only thing I can see is my father’s wicked face behind the plate where I started the first fight I’ve ever had on the field—reminding me that I’m not in control of myself.
37
AVERY
“You can totally bail on me.” Bodie pulls my attention from the familiar landscape as I ride shotgun to his brother’s wedding.