Page 118 of Taking Sides

My palms sweat. I have no idea how I’m going to get Conrad out without Victor seeing him. Whatever hesitation he sees in my expression, he must read as my not wanting him here because he pushes off the counter, standing tall.

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have come here. It was stupid to think my sister might have my back.”

“I do.” I go around the counter to him. “Of course I do. Always.”

“Yeah, right. Like you did a year ago when you abandoned me to move to this dump.”

“I didn’t—” I start to say I didn’t abandon him, but Victor doesn’t let me get the words out.

“You did. And the worst part is you left me with very little notice and without an assistant. All so you could take some bullshit job.”

“I love my job.”

“No, you don’t. How could you possibly?” He scoffs. “You babysit the worst players on a high school hockey team. Junior varsity scrubs.”

My mouth falls open. I know he’s hurting and trying to get a rise out of me, but I’m emotionally wrung out and not prepared to be the bigger person.

“Don’t pretend like you’re offended.”

“Those kids are amazing.”

“Sure. That’s why they’re on an epic losing streak.”

My face goes hot, and I clench my hands at my sides. “How could you say that?”

“It’s true. You know it is. It isn’t your fault. Some players just don’t have it.”

I swallow a lump forming in my throat. “Like me?”

There’s a flicker of hesitation on his face before he says, “You should be grateful you weren’t any good. Look at me.”

He’s never outright said that I was bad before and I’m embarrassed that it hurts my feelings. I knew from a very young age that I wasn’t good, but to hear my own brother say it outright is something else.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Conrad’s low, angry voice is almost unrecognizable as he stands at the end of the hallway glaring at Victor.

My brother moves slowly, facing my boyfriend, then glances back at me. As shock turns to rage, Victor’s features settle into stone. Guilt washes over me as I feel the full wrath of my brother’s anger. Despite everything, he’s never been really, truly angry with me before.

“Pretty boy? Is this a joke?” Victor asks me. “The guy you’re fucking is Shepard?”

I can’t seem to find my words. Though I imagine they’d be pointless given neither man is looking at me.

Conrad is seething. “You show up here after getting suspended, no call or text even though she’s been worrying about you for two days, and then you have the audacity to insult her when she’s the only person who can stand you.”

“This doesn’t concern you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It concerns me. Everything that happens to Whitney concerns me a hell of a lot.”

Victor shakes his head. “God, this is priceless.” He looks to the ceiling with an icy grin. When his gaze lands on me, I barely recognize him. “Is he another pity job? You babysit the JV kids and fuck the men no one else will? Any other charity I should know about?”

“Stop calling her job a joke,” Conrad grits out. “The only charity case around here is you. She’s the only person you’ve got who believes in you. Even your own father thinks you’re pathetic.”

I suck in a sharp breath as Victor steps forward, fists clenched. I move between them.

“Conrad,” I hiss. He may not be able to see the pain his words cause Victor, but I do. It’s his biggest insecurity. And worst of all it’s one he only knows about because I told him.

He takes a breath and gives Victor his attention once more. “Whitney is a good coach. Something you’d know if you weren’t such a selfish prick. She’s good because she knows what it’s like to have people like you write her off for something as dumb as not being a star hockey player. What do you know about being a good hockey player anyway?”

A muscle in Victor’s cheek jumps as his jaw tightens. “More than you. How many Cups have you won?”