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Kneeling beside the grave, I felt a lump form in my throat as I traced the letters of his name etched into the weathered stone. “Hi, Daddy,” I whispered, the words barely audible in the stillness of the night. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been here.”
My words ended with a little sob as I saw him in my mind, throwing me up in the air as I giggled and screamed “Again! Again!”
A strong pair of arms wrapped around me and I leaned into Jack’s embrace. A rush of warmth washed over me, like sunlight peeking out from behind a cloud, wrapping me in a cocoon of comfort. Almost like Dad was here right then, reaching out to me from beyond the veil of death.
Tears welled in my eyes as I closed them, allowing myself to bask in the few good memories I did have. I could hear his voice in my head, the soft and reassuring way he’d always spoken to me.
I opened my eyes, and the reality of his absence was there.
I squeezed Jack’s arms and then rose to my feet, a sense of emptiness gnawing at me. It was hell to be reminded that you couldn’t miss what you couldn’t remember...and now I was starting to remember so much.
We walked back to the car, and I decided my takeaway from this weird, awful day...would be the memory of his love, lingering inside my head now.
15
The crowd roared as the puck dropped, the energy in the arena already crazy as the game got underway. I sat beside Kennedy, my gaze fixed on the ice below, pretending that the longing stirring within me wasn’t there.
“What if we went to Paris, again? Tonight,” I asked, debating how much it would mess with this arrangement I had with the others if I absconded with her during their game.
Might be worth their anger if I didn’t have to sit through this game.
Kennedy stared at me like I was crazy. “We’re not going to Paris,” she told me firmly. It was cute that she thought she was the boss of me.
The only thing she was the boss of was my dick.
I eyed her Diet Coke and then her stomach...wondering if she should be cutting off caffeine soon. Her period was due next week...and with how much time I’d spent inside her—and how much time the others had spent inside her...this could be the month.
Daddy Greyson here I come.
There was a whole list of things that needed to be taken care of in preparation for the baby, number one being needingto figure out who the fuck was after her. But besides that, there were nutritional concerns...and making sure we had a doctor who wouldn’t accept pay outs from my enemies in exchange for hurting Kennedy.
Those sorts of things.
“You’re staring at me all crazy like,” she murmured as we watched Carter block a shot, his reflexes lightning fast. He was getting lit-up tonight, but he was a beast between the pipes, stopping every puck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered in a bland tone, wrapping an arm around her, and feeling the familiar stirrings of my cock—a problem I always had anytime I touched her. “This is how I always look at you. Like you’re the love of my existence, of course.”
“Sweet words. But you’re acting weird tonight,” she said, taking my hand and holding it between both of hers. I stared at the discrepancy between our hands. My skin was dark tan against her paleness, and my hand was so much bigger than hers.
She was so fragile. Panic sliced through me as I thought about how easily someone could destroy her. I tore my gaze away from our clasped hands, glancing around like someone was going to pounce at us any second. Everyone looked like normal fans, stuffing themselves with popcorn and soft pretzels, or gulping down beer as they cheered or yelled at the players.
But you never knew.
The crowd roared, and I glanced back at the ice where Jack was a blur of motion as he streaked down the ice, his stick handling skills a sight to behold. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the puck soaring past Nashville’s goalie, the sound of the goal horn echoing through the arena as everyone went nuts around us.
Kennedy sprang from her seat and started dancing around, distracting me from my lookout by the sight of her bouncing ass and boobs.
I held in a groan because fuck...my girl was the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen.
“Stand up,” she called at me, because I was literally the only person still in their seat after that goal. I begrudgingly stood up, because okay...she owned more than my dick, but I only clapped a little. Jack skated by where we were sitting and blew her a kiss and I pretended I wasn’t jealous at all when Kennedy pretended to catch it and blew one back.
I tried not to care. I really did. But watching them play...it was a little torturous. I’d once thought that I’d be out there with them. That had been our dream. I’d once known what Jack was going to do before he even did it. I’d once been the one that the fans screamed for.
I’d never been the spectator sort of guy. I preferred to be in the action.
No one dreamed of being a mob boss.
Little kids dreamed of being professional athletes, of being on TV, of crowds screaming their name.
