Page 4 of Twisted Play

“Your father has quite a history of doing desperate things for your medical care, doesn’t he?” His gaze fixed on my chest, where my scar lay hidden. My fingers twitched with the need to cover it with my hand, but I didn’t move, afraid to show weakness, lest he move in for the kill.

“Your father is a fucking idiot,” he continued. “And you’re also a fucking idiot for thinking you could waltz in here and convince me to, what? Whore you out so you could pay off the debt?”

I blinked, shocked.

Carter’s cruel smile grew. “Did you think your cunt was worth that much? Are you even a virgin?”

“No,” I snapped, embarrassed, struggling to contain the heat threatening to turn my cheeks rosy.

“But I bet your father would give anything to make sure I don’t toss you to the wolves and let them destroy you, wouldn’t he?”

“He doesn’t have the money.” I couldn’t wrap my head around the enormity of how much money we owed. We were broke, and we had been for a while—but I didn’t realize. Fuck.

I looked up at Carter as if he could save us. “Please, there must be a way.”

“Other than fucking your way across Yorkfield for me?”

“Anything,” I whispered. “Please don’t hurt my father again.” My stomach tied itself into knots at the idea of prostituting myself, but if that’s what it would take to save myfather, then—my calm deserted me for a second, my heart speeding up and my breath turning choppy.

Get your shit together, Eva.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself the fuck down.

Carter sat on the corner of his desk, still towering over me. “You don’t have a million dollars sitting around to pay back his debt, or he wouldn’t have borrowed it from me in the first place.”

“Please, you can’t kill him. I’m begging you,” I said, my heart at my feet. I’d never felt so helpless in my entire life.

Carter hummed as he leaned over his desk and ran his finger down my wrist, his dry touch sending terror zipping through me. “You’re pre-med, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, my instincts screaming something was wrong. I was missing something vital.

“And you interned with an athletic program last year?”

He held me pinned in place with the delicate touch, the slightest caress as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, waiting for my answer.

Barely.I’d been a volunteer medic for women’s intramural sports. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Did you apply for the work-study program this year?”

“Not yet,” I said. “Applications are due next week.”

He frowned. “You’ll apply for positions on the hockey team,” he said firmly.

“I don’t know anything about hockey.”

“You’ll learn,” he stated, tapping his finger more firmly against the top of my hand, his touch light but no less effective at chaining me to the desk. “You’ll apply for every single position you can.”

“But I don’t know if?—”

“The athletic director owes me a favor. You’ll get thejob,” Carter interrupted me, his smile sharklike and predatory.

My mind raced, turning over possibilities and discarding them. “And why exactly do you want me to work for the hockey team?”

“You’ll be my spy. I want information—players, plays, injuries, everything.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll kill your father. And when I’m done with him, I’ll kill you too.” He leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine. “But you won’t refuse, will you? Because you’re a good daughter. You’ll do anything to protect him, just like he’d do anything to protect you.”