Page 42 of Game Misconduct
I cross my arms over my chest, my eyes narrowing as I take in my sperm donor. “What do you want?”
“You’re back,” my father slurs, wobbling to the side. “My kid is back in Boston. Right where he belongs.”
I stare at him, impassive.
“What do you want?” I repeat, gritting out the words. “Money? Another liver?”
“Nicky, I—”
“No.” The harsh sound tears from my throat. “You need to leave.”
His bloodshot eyes blink slowly, each up-and-down movement of his eyelids stretching on forever. “Son—”
“I’m not your son.”
Not since he killed my mother. Not since the only time he reaches out to me, he’s drunk and begging for money. Not since he’s made it clear he only wants to use me, the way he used her.
Fred lists to the side, unsteady on his feet.
I lift my hand, waving to Paul. “This man is not welcome here. He’s trespassing. Don’t allow him back into the building.”
The guard raises an eyebrow. “From the arena, too?”
Fans can’t access the behind-the-scenes areas, but anyone can buy a ticket to a game. Sure, it costs several hundred dollars he probably doesn’t have, but I can’t take that risk. What if he caused a scene in the middle of a game?
He’s already ruined my life. I don’t need to give him any more power over me.
Without hesitation, I nod. “He needs to go. Permanently.”
