Page 66 of Sweet Redemption

But I did turn social media into my bitch and stalked their wedding and eventually baby pictures like the CIA had tasked me to do it.

Healthy? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

But that didn’t stop me.

I was seething with jealousy.

Because she had him, and then she had Bodhi.

She had the life I wanted.

And then she lost her life.

And suddenly, the guilt outweighed the hurt.

So how am I supposed to feel now?

My phone rings, startling me out of the memory, and I jump what feels like fifty feet in the air, banging my knee against the table and spilling my tea. “Shit.”

I drop my pen, close the journal, and grab the napkin as the phone rings again, and because the universe woke up and chose violence today, Dad’s name flashes on the screen this time.

Max Kingston is nothing if not the master of shitty timing.

I slide my finger across the screen and stand, stretching my banged-up leg.

“Hey, Dad.” Pulling the phone back, I glance at the time. “A little early, isn’t it?”

“Good morning to you too, Serena. I’ve been up for a few hours, already worked out and made breakfast. How about you?”

I glance over at my spilled tea and untouched scone and decide to pivot. “I’m good. What’s up?”

“I need you to go to Texas with the team tomorrow.” Well, that’s one way not to beat around the bush.

“What?” Not exactly eloquent, but I haven’t had nearly enough caffeine to handle this. “I don’t travel with the team, Dad. That’s Teagan’s job.”

“Yes well, your cousin was rushed to the hospital last night for an emergency appendectomy. She’ll be out this week, and I need your help.”

Just what every girl wants to hear.

“Please, Serena. I can’t go. I have a doctor’s appointment Monday morning that I can’t reschedule.”

Son of a bitch.

How do I say no to that?

I don’t.

“Okay, Dad. Have your assistant send me the information.” I can update the interviews scheduled for Monday from in-person to online and get everything else I need from Teagan.

It’s one overnight with the team.

How hard could it be?

“Have you ever asked yourself a hypothetical question that came back to bite you in the ass?” I groan, standing next to my cousin Cohen the next afternoon as we wait to get the room keys at the hotel the team is about to take over.

“I play hockey for my father’s team, and the man is my assistant coach. What do you think?” He shakes his head with a smile. “I thought you quit anyway. Why are you still here?”

I look around at the team as Teagan’s assistant, Kaleigh, hands out the key cards. “I promised Dad I would hire my replacement, and it’s taking a little longer than I expected.”