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I talk a good game but none of my excuses assuage the guilt I'm feeling for even asking that.
"Hmm," my brother remarks.
“Come on Liam, we need to level the playing field. Otherwise, the boys won’t stand a chance at the championships.”
“Yes, but isn’t that the same thing you’re angry at Luke for doing?”
“No, it’s different,” I say.
“I agree. Because he’s not bringing in external forces to train the kids like you're asking me to. Something that's strictly against your code of ethics."
“He’s buying them superior equipment!’
“Oh my Gosh, really? Start the witch hunt then.”
I giggle a little, despite everything. “You’re an ass sometimes, Liam.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard. Listen, you sleep on it and if you still want me to call someone tomorrow, I’ll see what I can do. Although, I didn’t keep in touch with most of the people in high school and I wasn’t exactly the favorite on the team either. You’d probably be better off asking Luke for those contacts.”
“Never,” I say.Even if he was the last hockey player on earth.
“I thought you might say that,” Liam chuckles. “Anyway, I gotta go. Think about what I said. And tell my nephew that I was far suckier at hockey than he is, and look how well my life turned out.” Liam is now working as an investment banker in New York and enjoys his job a lot.
“I won’t tell him that,” I say. “He thinks you work one of the most boring jobs in the world. That would only depress him more.”
"Brat,” he says.
“Ass,” I say affectionately, and then we hang up. That’s typical for my brother and me. We never really say hellos or goodbyes. We simply end the conversation when one of us is ready to.
As I leave the dough to chill, I creep upstairs and knock on the door tentatively.
"Chase,” I say. “Baby, are you ok?”
“I’m fine," he says shortly.
“Are you sure? I’m making some chocolate chip cookies if you want -”
“I don’t want anything. I just need to be alone for a little.”
My heart cracks a little more and sudden anger shoots through me. This isn’t fair. It’s not fair that my son is hurting and I’m tired of standing back.
Something needs to be done about this.
Without thinking, I head downstairs and throw open the front door. Liam was right. I can’t flout the rules like Luke does, or it would make me just as bad as him. But I don't intend to let him keep doing what he’s doing. He's going to stop. Or else.
I pause, examining a note that's sitting on my front porch. I reach down and pick up the paper.
Warning,it reads.
Who left this here? Luke? Is this another of his stupid pranks?
I'm so sick of him!
I watch his imposing mansion and storm toward it. I glare at the row of cars in his driveway including the large Aston Martin glittering in the sun. Who on earth gets a car like that in this neighborhood? Who does he think he's showing off for?
The house is silent when I walk in, and I take a moment to survey the large open-concept living room, beige with royal blue accents. It looks like the ultimate bachelor pad with several gaming stations in front of a large TV and I shake my head in disgust.
I hear grunting sounds coming from below, and I recall him mentioning that he has a basement gym. That's probably where he is.
