Page 28

ETHAN

This appeal hearing is significant—not only for the team, but for me personally.

I promised Aurora I’d look after Jax, and I failed. That night, exhausted from the game and sex with Aurora, emotions running high, I showered and went to bed without checking on him. When the plane landed, he said he was tired, and, given his illness, I believed him.

This is my chance to right my mistakes and restore our trio.

While I wait for the meeting to begin, I tap my pen on the provided legal pad and reflect on Jackson and Aurora.

They’re like twins. The more I know them, the more I realize how alike they are, particularly how they bust my balls.

There’s the nonstop banter, same facial expressions, clingy-ness, and that freaky communication with their eyes.

They’re reliant on each other. There’s no happy Aurora without Jax and no sane Jax without Aurora. I need them both, and they need someone to care for them. I have no clue how they survived together for two years on their own.

I abandoned love a long time ago. Instead, I prioritized my career, determined never to live in poverty or hopelessness again. My life revolved around hockey. Wash, rinse, repeat. My reward was the win. I didn’t need anyone or anything, and I wore it like a badge of honor.

Most days, loving Aurora scares the fuck out of me. I can’t admit it to myself. That’d make it real, a weakness in my well-constructed armor.

And yet, I’m in a threesome—is that what it’s called?—with a baby on the way, and I don’t regret it. I miss them, actually.

I’m standing at the cliff’s edge, staring down at the mesmerizing waters, considering the exhilaration of the plunge, knowing damn well I might drown. Even the breeze at the top is tantalizing, tempting me to take the jump.

Who am I kidding? I’m already falling.

Without her—or them —my days are dull.

They’re on my mind before I open my eyes. I wake early to adjust for the time difference and send Aurora good morning texts, and then I stare at my screen, hoping she’ll respond. I eagerly await pictures from Jax, grinning when I receive one.

Getting out of bed has become difficult. They seem to be the energy in my veins, and my career is a nightmare, thanks to the piece of shit who just walked through the door—accompanied by the league president. Great.

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

Heads snap up from their phones. I know I should remain professional, but this motherfucker hurt Jax, ruined our relationship, and hired someone to follow Aurora. He brings out the violence in me.

Kyle straightens his tie and sits on the opposite side of the conference table. “I’m here to represent my son.”

Is he serious? I pin him with a glare. “Nope. His agent is representing him. I’m representing him. You shouldn’t even be able to refer to him as your son.” I take a deep breath and attempt to gather my composure. “He doesn’t want you here.”

His face twists in anger. “You don’t know what he wants.”

I pick up my phone. “How about I call him?”

Of course, when I call Jackson, he doesn’t answer. Typical.

“Let’s move on.” Kyle’s fake-ass voice has enough saccharine to rot teeth. “Shall we, gentleman?”

Robert, the team owner, and Colby, Jackson’s agent, glance at me with raised brows, seeking my response.

“Hold up. I know where he is.” I’m already calling Aurora, my hands trembling with fury.

“Ethan!” she answers excitedly, her beautiful face appearing on the screen.

Damn it, I hit our last call, not realizing it was a FaceTime.

“I need to talk to Jackson. It’s important.”

She peers up and off to the side. “It’s your boyfriend.”

The heat of embarrassment radiates from my cheeks, but my lips don’t get the memo and smirk at the brat.

My captain’s shit-eating grin fills the screen. “That was quick. Miss me already?”

“I’m in the meeting we talked about…” I fix him with a pointed stare that sobers him.

“Sorry,” he mouths.

“Do me a favor: look at the people in attendance and tell me if someone doesn’t belong.”

“Okay…” he drags out, his brows furrowed.

I turn the camera and scan the room.

When I land on his father, he shakes his head. “Hell no.”

For all to hear, I clarify, “You don’t require or want Kyle at this hearing, correct?”

Jax gives a curt nod. “Correct.”

“Are you in agreement with the plan we discussed earlier?”

“Yes.” Agitated, he pulls at his hair. “You have the power of attorney?”

That sets Kyle off. “Clearly, you can see there’s more going on here.”

He thrusts a hand in my direction, and I end the call. I don’t need Jax’s temper disrupting this appeal, and I don’t want him to be affected by his father’s manipulation tactics.

“No further argument.” The president raises his hand. “We’re all adults here. Please leave. I’d like to get started. My plate is full.”

Kyle shoots me a scathing look and storms out the door, slamming it behind him.

“I’ve always hated that creep,” Coby mumbles.

The hearing goes well. Jackson’s twenty-game suspension is reduced to nine, with the agreement I’m his sponsor until the end of the season. When he returns, he’s to live with me, travel with me, and see a therapist. If he tests positive again, he’ll receive a mandatory one-year suspension.

Now, I only have to convince our girl to come home…and stay home.

Walking out to my car, I’m flooded with relief, and my thoughts turn to my next pressing issue: preparing for our little guy.

I’m nervous about our upcoming doctor visit in a few days. Aurora is nineteen or twenty weeks along now and still sick, and I haven’t been to a single appointment with her.

I can’t believe we’re having a baby. It blows my mind. I’m not at all ready. I won’t even have an extra bedroom after Jax moves in.

Fuck, this is about to get weird. I can’t imagine sleeping with Aurora while Jackson is in the other room. Or the opposite—Jackson with Aurora. Jesus, that’s fucked up.

Despite being lost in thought, I immediately spot Kyle, casually leaning against a sleek, all-black SUV beside mine. He’s engrossed in his phone, the sunlight catching the sheen of his thinning hair.

I scan the parking lot, assessing my surroundings. There doesn’t seem to be anything suspicious, and he appears to be alone. Considering his desperate attempt at controlling his son, though, I’m leery.

“Can I help you?”

I approach my silver Porsche Cayenne, a new purchase rated safe for Aurora and the baby. I rarely drive, but I can’t picture putting a car seat in an Uber. Jackson has plenty of vehicles, but I’d like to provide something other than DNA.

Kyle glances up, silently observing me until I face him from the other side of my vehicle.

He slides his phone into his pocket. “What do you want with my son?”

“I want the same thing you should: for him to be healthy and successful.”

“Jackson is unwell, delusional. He thinks he’s in love. He’s being taken advantage of, and she’s affecting his game.” His tone is placating and fake as hell.

Does this asshole think I’m an idiot? Is this some divide-and-conquer method of manipulation? Has he forgotten the times I kicked him out of my locker room? I know who’s affecting Jackson’s game, and it’s not Aurora.

“Who’s the one taking advantage of him, Kyle?”

He stands straight and balls his fists. “You know very well who!”

I remain relaxed. He wouldn’t dare come at me—not in public, particularly considering the fifty-pound muscle difference. I’d have him asleep on the concrete with one hit.

“The only person I see taking advantage of him is you.”

He scoffs. “I see you’re as whipped as he is. The two of you are going to bleed him dry.”

How long did he expect to keep control of Jackson’s money? Did he think if he kept fueling his son’s addiction, he’d always be the trustee? That no one would send Jax to rehab? Not him? Or the team? Or a judge? Boy, did I disrupt his plans.

Dread flutters in my chest. What if he never intended for Jax to get clean? What if he wants him in a grave next to his mother? Disgusted, I push the thought away.

“I’m guessing since you know which car is mine and you had me followed, you likely ran a background on me, so you know I don’t need or want Jackson’s money. That’s you.”

“He’s petitioned for you to take ownership of the house he attempted to purchase?—”

“There is no attempted to purchase . The sale was completed. Whether you have legal control of the house is to be determined. I have lawyers as well. You’re not playing with an amateur, Kyle. Your best option is to walk away.”

A deranged grin takes over his features, crinkling his dead eyes. “You’d know about properties in trust, wouldn’t you?” He cocks his head. “Or is it a shell company?” Given the smirk on his face and the glimmer in his eye, he assumes he’s uncovered some deep, dark secret.

And he’d be correct, but he’s wrong if he thinks I give a fuck.

I roll my neck and shoulders. “You got something to say?”

“Everyone thought your father turned FBI informant to save his wife, but he really flipped to save your mother, didn’t he?

The FBI discovered his mistress and threatened to use her at trial, right?

She would’ve been thrown to the wolves, and the FBI would’ve appropriated the properties he was hiding in her name.

Your father took a deal in exchange for life in prison. Who does that?”

A man in love, apparently. I wouldn’t know—I’ve never met him. His imprisonment destroyed my mother. The only thing he saved was his empire, which I want no part of.

“If that were true, I wouldn’t need Jackson’s money, would I? And you’d be smart to leave me the fuck alone.”

His face contorts, and his eyes fix on me with a hateful gaze. “I will—when you prove the baby is yours.”

“The baby is none of your fucking business, and you’d do well to remember that.”

“It is my business. I have control of my son’s assets. She was his six-figure call girl. You can’t tell me she doesn’t want money. If it’s his, I’d be willing to negotiate. He’s not ready for a child, and it’ll ruin both their careers. I’m sure you don’t want someone else’s kid.”

No. He better not be suggesting… “What are you implying?”

“There are other options. We can work together.”

He doesn’t want Jax healthy. He doesn’t want this baby born. If he’d drug his son…what else would he do?

My body shakes, rage begging to be released. I press my fists into the hood of my car, stopping me from doing something that’d undoubtedly get me both arrested and fired.

When I speak, my tone is lethal. “That baby is mine. She is mine. My life. Touch her and lose yours.”

Before I make things worse, I get into my vehicle and drive away. At the first stoplight, my fingers fly across the screen:

Do not let Aurora out of your sight. Jax either.

Ricky

Kyle?

Yup.