Goal Line (The Dartmouth Cobras Book 7) (16 page)

“I will. Consider this my last act of complete abandon. And…well, it’s not just for me. Having me play along…” She lowered her voice in case the guys were listening, though they seemed to be ignoring her. “White was more comfortable with Pisch than ever. You know Pisch is in love with him, right?”

“Yes, but White’s an idiot.”

“He is not.”

“About Pisch, he is. But enough of them. I reserve the right to raunchy details, but can I give you some advice?” Akira sounded unsure, like their relationship wasn’t what it had been. But she continued before Sahara could tell her nothing had changed. “Don’t let this stop you from wanting more. You’re ready; you just haven’t accepted it yet. And Grant scared you into hiding again.”

“I’m not hiding.” Well, technically she was, but that wasn’t what Akira meant. “You didn’t see how I reacted when Dominik got a call from Max and had to leave. I was all jealous and insecure, and I don’t like myself when I’m like that. I need to work on me before there can be an ‘us.’”

She could picture Akira nodding. Hear the understanding in her tone. “I get that. But promise me one thing?”

Considering how rarely Akira asked for anything, Sahara agreed without a second thought. “Sure.”

“You may have screwed up, but everyone does. Pressing charges was a big step—one you were too afraid to take before. Unless you’re still holding out for Keane—”

“I’m not.”

“Good to hear. Just don’t ignore opportunities because you’re afraid to take them. I don’t know if Dominik is the one for you, but I’ve never seen you open up to another man the way you do with him. Pischlar is safe because he asks for nothing. There’s no risk.” Akira paused. “You’d be taking a chance with Dominik.”

“I know.” Sahara glanced back toward the men. White had joined them, fully dressed, and nothing in his expression betraying the scene Ford had interrupted. “And he’s not going to wait around forever.”

They finished up the conversation and Akira asked to speak to Ford. Whatever she said seemed to satisfy him, because he left shortly after.

Which was when things got awkward. Sahara waited for Pischlar to say something, but he simply picked up his toy bag and went to his room to stash it. White went to the kitchen to do the dishes. So she started tidying up the living room.

A few minutes later, Pischlar returned, glanced from her to White, and burst out laughing. “You’re both
incredible
. Why can’t you understand life is so much simpler when you learn to roll with the punches?”

White dried his hands on a dishrag and leaned against the fridge. “Easy for you to say, Easy. Nothing fucking bothers you.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure what’s bothering you.” Pischlar looked White over. “I promise, nowhere on you does it say ‘My best friend was jerking me off.’ You’re not even hard anymore.”

Sahara stared at the back of Pischlar’s head. Damn, he certainly wasn’t going to make White more comfortable being all blunt. She couldn’t blame White for not being in the mood—she was pretty out of it herself.

“I don’t get you. What we did wasn’t—
isn’t
my thing. You know that. Why don’t you just drop it?” White tossed the dishrag over the side of the sink. “Pretend it never happened.”

Nodding slowly, Pischlar moved to White’s side. “That is one option. The other is we forget the rest of the world and finish what we started. I bind Sahara to my headboard so you can taste her delicious pussy while I suck your dick until you come. Entirely up to you.”

And with that, Pischlar strolled back down the hall and disappeared into his bedroom.

Rubbing his hands over his face, White groaned. He muttered something she couldn’t hear, then lifted his head to meet her eyes.

She couldn’t help but smile at him. A glance at the front of his black jogging pants proved he was more than interested in Pischlar’s offer. But he wouldn’t budge unless she was willing to join them. Like the kissing, it was his way of holding on to his ideas of what he should want.

Helping him with his illusions really wasn’t any hardship.

“Come on.” She held out her hand, her smile widening when he took it. “You want this as much as I do.”

He pulled her against him, bending down to gently kiss her throat. “I want you.”

No point in arguing with him, so she tugged his hand and led him to the bedroom. He could deal with reality tomorrow.

And so would she.

The morning of the Cobras’ second playoff game and Oriana was finally clear to be released from the hospital. A day later than planned, but her scans had been pushed back because there was only one MRI scanner and an emergency had taken priority. Regardless, the medication was working, and other than advising Oriana to watch for specific symptoms, the doctor seemed optimistic for a full recovery.

She’d hated being in the hospital, and leaving had seemed like the only thing she could look forward to, but that morning, Max had come in early to wait for her release papers with her. And Sloan had come in not long after. She wasn’t sure what strings had been pulled, but she’d seen him out in the hall with a man in a suit, whom she’d overheard apologizing for any “unpleasantness” Sloan had experienced. The team provided a lot of money for research and equipment in the hospital, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about threats being used to give her and her men special treatment.

One of her siblings was behind this, she was sure of it. But she’d wait until she was done soaking in Sloan’s presence before she gave them hell. She’d missed him. She hated seeing the circles under his eyes and knowing he probably hadn’t slept well while she’d been here.

I’ll tell them no more power plays and give the hospital a big donation.

She didn’t feel too guilty. None of the maneuvering would have been necessary if they hadn’t assumed the worst. Hitting her head and being stuck in the hospital was nothing compared to being forced away from one of her men. She felt like she’d been punished for being hurt.

Curled up in a chair on Sloan’s lap made the last few days irrelevant. She was going home. The rest could be forgotten.

Silver and Ford showed up to see her out, Silver bearing an expensive Tiffany vase—which had Sloan making a face out of her sister’s view when he saw it—full of yellow tulips. Ford had gone a little more traditional with a Squishable panda plush and a single white rose.

A short time later, everything signed and her gratitude expressed to her nurses, Oriana sat in a wheelchair as Max rolled her down the hall. Hugging the panda, she grinned up at Ford when he squeezed her hand.

His expression was the protective look of concern that had been planted there every time he’d come. He jerked his chin toward someone approaching.

Their father. With his wife Anne and several men she didn’t recognize.

Her throat closed up. Max locked the wheelchair and stepped up beside Ford.

Sloan, smart man that he was, put his hand on Silver’s arm, preventing her from lurching forward and likely saying all the words she’d held in for too long. Her father had shown little interest in any of them, unless “acting” fatherly could work in his favor. Oriana had spent more time than any of them trying to earn his love. But she’d finally accepted the fact there was no love in him to be given.

Standing a few feet in front of all of them, their father folded both hands over his cane. He was wearing a dark navy blue suit, but that did nothing to hide the dangerous man he could be when provoked.

“Mr. Delgado.” Sloan sounded calm. A very good sign. “We weren’t expecting to see you.”

Leaning heavily on his cane—he’d been in a wheelchair the last time Oriana saw him, his health must have improved—Anthony Delgado glared at Sloan. “I don’t know why not. She is my daughter. Now get out of my way, you monster. I heard what you did to her.”

Your daughter?
Oriana had to fight to hold back the tears. Even after a DNA test, her father had insisted she wasn’t his. He’d readily claimed Ford, but wanted nothing to do with her.

Why now? She couldn’t believe he’d suddenly had a change of heart.

Max shifted to stand closer to Sloan. “I’m not sure what you heard, sir, but any concerns have been laid to rest.”

“Bullshit. The social workers spoke to her and she was too afraid to tell them the truth. Either that or…” Anthony let out a heavy sigh. “My own health prevented me from looking after my children as I should have, but Oriana’s never been all there. My lawyers are looking into it. She really shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions like this, and once a judge sees how incompetent she is, he will agree that she should be with her family.”

I
am
with my family.
Oriana had needed space from her father to build her own life. To find her own strength and believe she was worthy of love and respect. There were times she missed him, but seeing him now made her wonder if she wasn’t just missing the idea of a parent who loved her unconditionally.

He would never be that man.

Without Sloan to hold her back any longer, Silver behaved in her typical, rash way. She strode forward and jabbed her finger right in the center of their father’s chest. “You’re insane if you think we’ll let you get away with this. What do you want? Money?” She poked him again. “I’ll give you whatever you want if you’ll stay the fuck out of our lives.”

“Silver.” Ford wrapped an arm around Silver’s waist and hauled her back. “You’re not helping anything. Calm down.”

Anthony laughed. “No, let her go, Ford. She’s proving why she’s unfit to care for her mentally unstable sister.”

Oriana put her hand over her mouth. She was going to be sick. She needed to get out of there. She wanted to go home and pretend none of this was happening. She spotted a familiar woman a few steps back from her father and his lawyers. She couldn’t remember the woman’s name, but she was a reporter Silver’d had issues with in the past.

They needed to get Silver out of here. Oriana needed to get out of here. She wouldn’t help her father air the dysfunctional Delgado relationship to the press.

“Sloan, bring Oriana home.” Max put his hand on Sloan’s arm. “Please.”

With a sharp nod, Sloan turned his back on her father and came to her, bending down to cup her cheek. “Listen to me. Silver’s probably right. He wants control over you because he thinks he’ll get his hands on your money. Max and Ford will take care of this. I’ll try to get Silver to leave with us.”

Her head throbbed when she inclined it to show she agreed. The tightness in her chest made it hard to get a word out. “Doesn’t he know I don’t have any money?”

“You’re married to Max. He’s pretty well-off.”

“And you.”

“Not officially, but yes, my money is yours.”

“That’s not the point. It’s not really
mine
. He can’t very well go into your accounts—” Or could he? If he proved she was unable to care for herself, and somehow took her away from Max and Sloan, maybe he could have access to funds as a caregiver.

“Enough, pet. You won’t be found incompetent.” He kissed her softly, rising to take control of the wheelchair. “Silver, there’s another set of elevators at the end of the wing. Come with us, I’ll need you to sit with Oriana while I drive.”

As their brother and Max argued with their father and his lawyers—who had finally joined the conversation—Silver seemed far more interested in being heard than going anywhere. She hissed something at Ford when he tried to propel her away with a firm grip on her shoulders.

Max made the decision very easy for her. “Could you call Asher, sugar? I’m sure he’ll get this straightened out right quick.”

“Consider it done.” Silver tugged the jacket of her pale pink skirt suit straight and glared at their father. “Have fun wasting the little money you have left on lawyer’s fees, old man.”

When Silver spun on her heel and headed for Oriana, their father called out. “You might not believe me, Silver, but I’m trying to do what’s best for my children. Maybe you wouldn’t have had so much trouble after your child’s birth if you’d been with real family.”

Eyes wide, Silver never slowed her stride. She kept pace with Sloan as he rolled Oriana down the hall. Didn’t say a word.

But Oriana’s heart broke for her when she saw the tears spilling down her sister’s cheeks. What her father had tried to pull hurt, but not nearly as much as what he’d already done. Silver had broken free from him a long time ago, but Oriana suspected she’d always hoped to have her daddy one day. He’d had her fooled when he’d given her the team, but he’d hoped to manipulate her.

This was a fresh wound for both of them. One that would be ripped open again and again until they finally got Anthony Delgado out of their lives for good.

Oriana reached out and laced her fingers with Silver’s. The trembling smile her little sister gave her made it a little easier to breathe.

They had each other. And their men. The team was their extended family.

Everything else they would get through. Together.

* * * *

Having Sloan and Oriana out of hearing was comforting, but Max hated that he had to stay here, listening to the crazy old man rather than give his wife the homecoming he’d planned. Maybe it was excessive, but he and Sloan had put together a little party.

Nothing huge, Oriana needed to rest, but she would be happy to see their close friends and family. And maybe that was exactly the distraction she needed after all this.

Unfortunately, he was still supplying roadblock services for her heartless father.

“You are her husband. How could you let the man who abused her leave with her?” Anthony’s lips twisted in disgust. “I had hoped she’d made a decent choice with you, but clearly I was wrong.”

The man wasn’t pulling any punches. At least Oriana didn’t have to hear any more of his nonsense.

Better Delgado aim his venom at Max than his children.

“You have my number, Anthony.” Once, Max would have called the man Mr. Delgado. But he wouldn’t give him that respect. He’d called him “sir” out of habit. Not because he meant it. “Please have your lawyers call me. Oriana needs time to recover.”

Anthony bared his perfect, fake teeth in a sneer. “She will recover in my home where she belongs. I won’t have my daughter manipulated any longer.”

This time, Ford didn’t wait for Max to take the lead. He let out a gruff sound. “Your daughter? When did you decide she was your daughter again? This whole performance shows how little you care for her! Do you think she needs this kind of stress?”

Moving closer and reaching out as though to touch his son’s arm, Anthony sighed when Ford jerked away. “I am so happy that you’ve become close to your sisters, son. But you’re clearly just as misguided as they are. Hopefully, in time, you will see that I’m doing what’s best for you all.”

Ford retreated a step and shook his head. “I became your son when it was convenient for you and the man who raised me. As far as I’m concerned, I have no father.”

“You’re young. You’ll change your mind.” Anthony smiled. “The last name you claimed says it all.” Sympathy filled his eyes. “I was sorry to hear about your old man. He was once a dear friend.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Ford snorted. “You’ve done enough damage for one day. I’m going to see how my sister is doing. Her and Silver are the only good that came out of you being my mom’s sperm donor.”

Ford was done. He strode away in the same direction his sisters and Sloan had gone. Max moved to follow, but one of the lawyers cleared his throat and approached him.

“This is all very unfortunate, but we will, of course, insist on a new caseworker to assess the situation. The evidence against Mr. Callahan is damning, and you would do well to not make yourself an accomplice.” He handed Max a card. “If you decide to do what’s right and testify against him, please call me. We will make sure Oriana gets the best care.”

Max crumpled the card in his fist. “I will make sure she’s taken care of. And strong enough to deal with whatever you throw at her.”

The man shrugged and returned to Anthony. Max didn’t waste any more time on them. He hurried to catch up to Ford.

He found the young man outside, trying to light a cigarette, his hands shaking. After the third try, he snarled and punched the cement wall. Blood ran down his fist and the cigarette hit the dirt. He didn’t react to the pain.

Simply pulled out another smoke.

“You’re a mess. Come on, Ford, I’ve got a kit in my car.” He made sure Ford would follow, then headed to his SUV to grab the first aid kit from his trunk. With Sloan’s temper, he made sure to keep it well stocked. He pulled out a bottle of sterile saline water. “Let me see.”

Holding out his hand, Ford didn’t say a word as Max cleaned, then covered his busted knuckles with practiced ease. Once the adrenaline passed, Ford would be in pain, but nothing appeared to be broken.

At least they were at the perfect place if he’d done more damage.

Ford tried to light his cigarette again and seemed to get more agitated with each failed attempt. Max didn’t approve of him smoking, but this wasn’t the time for a lecture. So he took the lighter and held the flame until the cherry glowed.

“Thanks.” Ford leaned back against the SUV and sighed. “What a fucking mess. Do you think Oriana’s okay? And Silver… Fuck, how could he bring up her kid? I might have had a twisted childhood, but at least I didn’t grow up with him.”

Max wasn’t sure how to reply to that. Ford’s father had died in prison less than a year ago. After having run the Kingsley empire for decades. When Max had first met Ford, he’d thought he was a rich boy playing at being a thug. But he was a product of his upbringing. The Kingsleys were ruthless and Ford had tried to fit in.