Page 80 of Pucking Them
I am surprised by the vehemence in his tone.
D’Angelo pats Eden’s knee. “He’s not calling me in front of the firing squad or another ambush like happened with Anderson. At least, I hope not. He’s hired this new mental skills coach, Dr. Olivia FitzGerald. He’s been pressuring the staff to see her. He’s insisting that I get my ass out of bed and have my first session with her.”
“No bloody way,” Shay snarls, far louder than I’m expecting. “She’s a bully. Don’t you remember how she treated Noah at the rink? If that’s her idea of how to motivate staff, then how do you think she’ll act with players? We’re in a good place. We don’t need anyone else messing with our heads.”
“Can I tell you how hot I find your protectiveness, cucciolo?” D’Angelo is fiddling compulsively with his bow tie, however, and I watch him with growing concern.
Shay is right.
Whoever this new staff member is, meeting her now is a mistake.
“I have a PA emergency,” Eden suddenly says like he’s thinking the same thing. “You can’t go.”
D’Angelo pushes himself off the bed, however, stretching to hide how his hands are shaking. “What type of PA emergency?”
“Whatever stops you meeting this mysterious woman.”
D’Angelo throws open the closet, rifling through his racks of immaculate suits.
A heavy fear settles in my stomach.
This new staff member being a bully is on brand for Dad.
D’Angelo glances over his shoulder at the three of us on the bed, giving us a reassuring smile. “I don’t have a choice but to leave, even if the emergency is that you’ve run out of sticky notes. This new mental skills coach is also a psychiatrist, and as coach informed me, she will oversee prescribing my OCD meds. I’ll find a way to contact my old therapist. I can’t lose him like that with no closure, when he’s helped me such a lot for years. Don’t worry, I’m used to being passed between professionals. I can handle this new staff member. What’s the worse she can do?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rebel Arena, Freedom
D’Angelo
I adjustmy cuff links three times, anxiously standing in the narrow corridor outside the small room, which is hidden at the back of Rebel Arena.
Fuck coach for firing half the staff and bringing in this woman instead as a mental skills coach.
Why would coach do that?
Olivia is a psychiatrist. But she isn’t a therapist.
I wipe my sweaty palms down my trousers.
It took me years to trust that my last therapist was truly there to help rather than hurt me, unlike the ones in the Discipline School. He didn’t twist my words and use them against me. He didn’t report back what I said as a reason for the teachers to punish me.
He made me feel like I deserved to feel good about myself, as if I was no different to anyone else, rather than someone who had been born wicked.
Fuck this.
I take a steadying breath, running my hand through my sweaty hair.
If Olivia thinks that she can make me talk to her, then she doesn’t know how stubborn I can be. She hasn’t won my trust yet.
I won’t lower my guard.
You can lead a hockey player to water, but you can’t make him drink.
My eyes narrow, as I remember how Olivia grabbed Noah at the arena, before caging him against the glass. Then how she leaned in, making him uncomfortable.
If Olivia thinks that she will give me a hard time, then she’ll find she isn’t the first bully to try and take me down.
