Page 77 of Ruthless Villain
That is awful. When I think back to how Luc plays and how much the fans adore him, Dad should be kissing his ass. But maybe that’s just it. Dad hates being wrong.
“What opportunity was it?”
“I was supposed to be the team captain but your father took that honor from me when he bought the Hawks. I don’t care what anyone says, I know he did that because he hated my father. Now I’m up against Evan and your father wants me to earn his trust. Guess what he requested of me in order to do that.”
The answer comes straight away and my blood heats. “Staying away from me?”
Luc smiles. “Yes.”
“I can’t believe this.” That request could only have come from a place of spite, because Dad doesn’t like Luc. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for your old man. He has his reasons for disliking me that I can’t fix.”
I bring my hands together, look down at the grooves on the table then back at him. “Maybe you shouldn’t defy him. I don’t want you to lose the chance to be captain.” I wouldn’t want him to lose that for me.
“At first, I planned to play by his rules, then I realized I couldn’t give him that kind of control over me. Neither should you, but I don’t know what he has over you.”
“It’s everything.” My voice is barely audible.
“Everything?”
“After my accident I was in a real bad way. I, um…” My voice trails off.
Luc reaches across the table and holds my hand. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay. I should. Talking helps, right?” I nod.
“That’s what I hear, and I have to agree it works when I do it.”
I give him a little smile but it wilts when I think of what I have to talk about. “My father has basically taken control over my life. He calls all the shots. There’s very little I can do without his approval.”
Luc frowns and his lightheartedness fades. I explain more, diving deep into the wretched details of my conundrum. By the time I’m done, Luc looks visibly disturbed.
Disturbed and enraged. The latter surprises me and makes me like him that much more. Apart from Zoe, I don’t have anyone else who’d care enough to feel angry about my situation.
“So… now you know everything.” I lace my fingers and stare back at him, observing the hardness in his expression and the tick in his jaw.
“I didn’t know it was as bad as that.” The frustration in his expression comes out in his voice.
“Yes.” I sigh and glance up at the honeysuckle plant behind him. When I return my gaze to his I notice his eyes have softened. “When you met me in Vegas the whole thing with Cole and Charlotte was the least of my worries, but it was just one more thing I didn’t need. I was already broken.”
“You’re not broken. You just have a lot going on.”
“A diagnosis of PTSD amongst all the other things that probably make my sister better than me tends to suggest something’s not quite right.”
“I wouldn’t like you any other way than who you are.” He smiles and my heart warms. “And just for the record, your sister has nothing on you. She doesn’t even come close to you. I don’t think she ever could even if she tried.”
Of all the compliments anyone has ever given me, that is by far the very best. It’s the one that carries the most sentiment, especially coming from him. A man people treat like a god.
Charlotte was always considered the perfect one. People always compare me to her even when they don’t mean to. Knowing that I’m seen just for being me refreshes my soul.
“Thank you for saying that.”
“I mean it. Also, for the record,”—he rests his hands on the table—“I’ve had PTSD, too.”
“You did?” Hearing that truly surprises me. He seems so strong. As if nothing could shake him.
“I did. When I was twelve and heard my parents were killed, my world ended. My father was my hero and my mother my angel. Life hasn’t been the same since their deaths, but knowing they’d want me to be happy helped me to move on. Time did the rest. The same will happen for you.”