“Look, Mark, I?—”
His phone interrupted him. He’d had it on silent for the meeting, only certain numbers allowed through for emergencies.
He held up a finger for Mark to pause while he answered. “Yo, Mom. What’s up?”
“Honey, your father and I have been in a car accident. We’re okay, but we need your help.”
Damon rocketed to his feet, only feeling a slight twinge in his left knee. “I’m on my way.” His mother hung up—message sent and received. Damon said to Mark, “Look, I’ll think about what you’ve said. But I need to get back to Hope’s Turn. My parents were in a car accident.”
“I hope they’re okay.”
“Sounds like it, but they need me.” Because no way would his mother ask for help if his father hadn’t okayed it, and that bastard rarely asked for anything.
Not from him anyway.
Mark nodded. “Go, go. I’ll let the staff know you had an emergency. Kowalski loves the ground you walk on. He won’t care that you left, as long as you come back.”
Damon nodded and hurried away. He’d call his coach later, though Mark hadn’t been wrong. Coach Kowalski counted on his dedication to the team, so Damon would rally and return as soon as he could.
Kowalski had a close family. He’d respect Damon’s need to see to his folks.
Being bad could wait. Being a good son took priority, but so did some heavy-duty meditation and calming exercises.
Because being around his parents always brought out the demon in Damon—the real reason he enjoyed living hours from home. Had he stayed, he had no doubt he’d be doing jail time.
Likely for brawling with his parents. His father had a way of getting on his last nerve, but his mother had a heck of a right hook.
CHAPTER 1
Three weeks later, late November
Hope’s Turn
The laughter caught Damon and refused to let go.
“Are you kidding me?” the woman asked, her voice not light and fluffy but smoky and filled with the promise of violence.
Color him intrigued.
“You wasted nine months of my life, you idiot.”
“Really, Marlie, that’s uncalled for.”
Damon searched behind him for the rising voices. The high-end restaurant didn’t seem one to lend itself to drama, so he wasn’t the only one rubbernecking to look for the source of noise.
Unfortunately, some older woman with big hair blocked his view of the table in the corner, where more insults went back and forth over the pleasant hum of some kind of jazzy holiday tune.
Man, the woman was grinding the guy with her, calling him all sorts of names. She could give lessons to his teammates in how to insult with a creativity they sorely lacked.
Damon smothered a laugh and tuned back in to her scornful tone. “After all we’ve been through, and you still don’t have the nerve to introduce me to your parents. Scared, Ben?”
“I’ve told you about my mother. She can be…difficult.”
“Cut the cord already.” The woman gave a harsh laugh.
Damon cringed, feeling a little for the poor guy. She was eating him alive.
She continued, “You’re nothing but a momma’s boy. I should have seen it. Hell. I did see it. But I thought you had a lot more going for you.”
