“Merger’s off. That’s why my father bothered to show up.” And the fucking reason why he choked me. “So, I got what I wanted. Don’t need you anymore.”
“Not happening.”
“Excuse me?”
“Said I’d stay married until you were free fromhim, not the merger. Give me divorce papers and I’ll rip them up. So, don’t waste your time.”
I punch him a second time, in the ass, then hit him with my skates when he still doesn’t put me down.
People stare as we pass, and I want to throw my skates at them.
Ryan barrels through the doors of Young’s Hall, and a few of the football players stare at us. He doesn’t stop, just climbs the stairs, heading to our room. The fucker doesn’t even put me down as he opens the door, and I hit the back of my head on the frame.
“Ow. Fuck.” I rub the spot.
Once inside, he finally puts me down, only to shove me toward the bathroom. “Go shower.”
“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
He takes the skates from my hands, then places them by the door. “Go. Shower.”
“Fuck you.”
He crosses his arms, widening his stance. Hate this motherfucker right now. With a pissed off huff, I walk into the bathroom, slamming the door.
I rip off my jersey and throw it onto the ground. “Fuuuuck!”
Fuck all of this. Fuck my father. And fuck Henneman. And fuck everyone else for seeing.
After removing the rest of my equipment, I turn on the shower, letting the water warm up. My fingers graze over my neck. It already feels swollen. And swallowing’s a bitch.
I hiss through my teeth when the hot water hits my body, burning most where my father’s fingers dug into my skin. I lean forward, hands on the tile, head under the water.
How much did the team see?
I slap the wall.
Why’d my father have to show up? Why not summon me to Manhattan? Or home?
No.
He had to come to the game, had to choke me on my own turf. For my friends, for my . . . For Ryan to see.
And Ryan . . . he rushed over, slammed my father against the wall, and protected me.
Part of me wanted Ryan to snap my father’s goddamn neck. I couldn’t care less if the man dropped dead on the floor. The other part didn’t want anything to happen, only because Ryan would never survive jail.
I try to take a deep breath, but it’s like my throat won’t fully open. My father really did a number on me. Fucking Adam’s apple even hurts.
My eyes close as I stand under the water, trying to swallow. Trying to forget.
It’s not the first time one of my parents has hurt me. I survived it then. I’ll do the same now.
And at the end of the year, I’ll be free.
After washing up, I turn off the water. Goddammit. No towel. Fucking Ryan’s fault.
I open the bathroom door and walk across the room naked.
