Page 19 of Offside Attraction

He bullied me behind closed doors. Threatened me. Beat me down until quitting felt like the only way out. I left the team without an explanation, and my parents—along with my coach—assumed it was just another phase.

They had no idea.

“I’ll think about it, ma’am,” I say.

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

I nod once, forcing a polite smile before stepping out of the principal’s office.

As the door shuts behind me, something settles in my chest.

Hayes Griffin made middle school a living hell for me.

Now it’s my turn.

CHAPTER 4

“Howwasthefirstday of school, guys?” Mom asks as Harper and I walk into the living room of our modern house.

She’s in the kitchen, preparing what she’ll probably call dinner—even though it’s only four in the afternoon.

“Hey, Mark,” I say, nodding toward him.

Mark is sprawled on the couch, absorbed in a medical textbook, pages flipping beneath his fingers. A cold cup of coffee sits beside his open laptop. He recently took a job at Evergreen Private Hospital—the one owned by the Griffins. For a neurosurgeon of his caliber, he had other offers, including one from a community health center, but money talks.

The idea of Mark working for the Griffins makes my jaw tighten.

Still, my feud with Hayes isn’t worth wrecking his career.

“Dakota,” Mark replies absentmindedly, not looking up.

I turn toward the kitchen where Mom is wiping her hands on a dish towel.

Before she can say anything else, barking echoes through the house.

A grin spreads across my face.

Shepard barrels toward me, claws skidding against the floor as he nearly knocks me over. I drop my backpack and crouch just in time to catch him, rubbing behind his ears as he settles back on his haunches.

“Hey, Shep,” I murmur. “How was your day?”

He tilts his head, tongue lolling out before he barks again.

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “I figured.”

I got Shepard three years ago during one of the roughest periods of my life. He’s been my shadow ever since. Loyal. Steady. Uncomplicated.

“Dakota,” Mom says gently as she steps into the living room. At the same time, Mark snaps his book shut.

I exhale and straighten, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

“Hey, Mom.”

I don’t linger.

“Come on, Shep.”

He follows as we head upstairs, nails clicking softly against the steps.