Page 87 of Forbidden Hockey

My son gets two goals in the third. Fuck, what a game.

By the end, my dick’s unusually stiff from watching Dirk. There’s something about him in his gear, charging down the ice like a bull with pure determination on his face, knowing he’s all fucking mine. Knowing heknowshe’s all fucking mine.

Getting up to my apartment is my first priority, but I have an Elkington problem at my bar top.

“Do you have a ride home, Maxwell?”

He stares at the amber liquid, swirling it in his rocks glass. “You’re not a perfect father,” he says instead of answering my question.

Oh goodie, my favorite topic. “None of us are, Maxwell. We’re human, we do our best.” At least that’s what I keep telling myself, so I can actually look my son in the eyes.

“The Meyer sperm donor doesn’t even look after his children. I looked into it when Logan hooked his little claws into my son. That man keeps having children and seems totally fine to let his eldest raise them all.”

Where’s he going with this? Now I feel obligated to find out in case he’s planning a new horror for Rhett and Logan. I assumed I’d talked him out of it, but maybe not.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stand taller. With guys like Maxwell, you can’t give off anything less than alpha maleenergy. He’ll find your weakness and exploit it. “What’s your point?”

“Fathers do what they think is best for their children. Are you sorry for the things you’ve done that Dash hated you for?”

Fuck. Fucking dammit. Yeah, I’ve done things I thought were best that Dash hated, and I don’t regret it. When Dash moved in with me after the Robin incident, I wouldn’t let him leave the restaurant. I did it to keep him safe. I knew he wasn’t ready, and I was fucking right. I can’t point fingers at Maxwell, and yet, I want to.

“No,” I answer honestly.

“Maverick was troubled. I love him. I know what society does to people like my son. I was trying to help him. He doesn’t know it yet, maybe he’ll never know it, but what I did made a difference. I agree that my methods were harsh, but they were necessary.”

I’m fucking lost. I barely know what happened with his eldest son, Rhett—that’s the son I thought he was gonna talk about—and here he is talking about his other son. I don’t have the first clue about Maverick besides that he plays on my son’s hockey team.

“How did things go with Rhett?” I say, moving back to territory I know better. I don’t need the life history of any more Elkingtons.

He swirls his drink again.

“He’s still angry with me, but Rhett and I are cut from the same cloth. He’d be just as ruthless for the people he loves. He already is. He’ll forgive me eventually. You were right to tell me to leave them alone.” He stares into my soul with chilling eyes. “You strike me as the kind of guy who understands.”

I can’t argue that. I’d do anything for the people I love. I don’t want to admit to it. That’s as good as saying we’re the same, and while we may share that value, we are not the same.

Just wish I could articulate how we’re not the same.

Maxwell taps the bar top with his finger. He smiles. It’s not a nice smile. “I know something you’ll want to know.” He downs the rest of his expensive cognac.

My blood turns cold. I might not know Maxwell, but I know enough about him to know he’s connected with everyone important in the city. Probably outside of the city, too. Besides his title, he comes from old money. Old money rules the world. I should have known there was a reason for his visit, but I bought his pathetic puppy act.

Maxwell is no one’s puppy; he’s a shark.

I’m not afraid of him.

“What do you want, Maxwell?”

He stumbles out of his seat—okay, the drunk part’s not an act—and he gets close to me. His finely manicured hand gently slaps my face, the plum notes of Courvoisier lingering on his breath. “I want a friend. An ear. Father-to-father advice. In exchange, I’ll give you some important information about … what was his name again?”

Maxwell pretends to think, but I already know what he’s gonna say. My fucking gut curdles with the name.

Robin.

Dash’s mother’s ex-boyfriend. The one who took him and locked him in a basement for months. My fingers curl into fists. I should have killed Robin when I had the chance.

He nods, even though I haven’t said it out loud. “We understand each other, then. Don’t worry, you won’t see me too often, I’m busy, understand? But I’ll be here from time to time.”

“What do you know, Elkington?”