Made To Be Broken - The Boston Hawks Hockey Series

Book 2 - Chapter One

Kane’s POV

I scowl at my cell as I make my way toward Brandy’s little corner of the admin building, the one she rules with an iron fist. I was having a good f.ucking day yesterday afternoon, ready to trounce all over those assholes from Phoenix until my phone chimed with a message from HER.

B: Kane, please come by my office tomorrow, we need to discuss your recent charity event . . . the one you seem to have forgotten to run past our department. As you well know, any and all fundraising needs to be brought up with and approved by myself, I look forward to your latest explanation as to why you circumnavigated protocol once again.

Now, here I am, an hour before a late practice, heading to her lair to have my ass chewed out over something that isn’t even her business. I have no problem doing meet and greets, team functions and anything else that my contract demands I play puppet for, but I don’t see why it’s anyone else’s business if I do something for a private group.

I push through the door of the communications department and step inside, allowing the door to shut behind me. The large room is full of cubicles, each with a member of staff seated at a small desk either talking on the phone or typing furiously onto a computer.

I sweep my gaze over the room until I spot Rory O’Brien, my best friend and teammate’s girlfriend who is talking to one of her colleagues, her head throwing back as she laughs at something the woman beside her says. I smile to myself as I watch her, relationships are not for me, but since they announced it officially just over two weeks ago, I haven’t seen my best friend happier, or play better. As much as I hate to admit it, relationships look good on my fellow Enforcer.

Rory glances up, and looks over at me, so I wave, grinning as she returns the greeting, her friend openly gawking at me before she mutters something else to Rory, who laughs again, shaking her head.

Turning away from the pair, I stride over to the closed office door to my right, knocking on it loudly before turning he handle and opening it, not bothering to wait to be invited in.

‘Yes, Mr Gough’ Brandy states into the phone, leaning back in her chair, her pen scrawling on a piece of paper as she listens to the caller on the other end of the line. She glances up at me, scowling as I shut the door, sauntering over to the chair opposite her and sinking into it, resting one ankle on my other knee as I smirk at her. She’s p.issed, good, now she knows how I feel.

She talks for a few minutes longer as I glance around her office, taking in the sparce décor. There are photos on a shelf along with awards, and the space itself screams interior design, but it all feels very . . . staged.

The sound of the phone hitting the cradle snaps my attention back to the woman in front of me, Brandy straightening up, her gaze pinned on me with veiled annoyance as I slouch comfortably in her visitor’s seat. We are two different spectrums, she’s middle class parents, private education, with hair pinned to within an inch of its life, not that a tendril would dare to fall from her perfectly styled bun. I’m from the wrong side of the tracks, one lucky break in my childhood, putting me on the path to where I am now, rather than the blue collar job I probably would have ended up with if Hockey hadn't become my life.

Feeling her gaze shift down my body, I glance down, taking in my ripped jeans and faded t’shirt, a smirk playing at my lips at the contrast to her perfectly pressed suit.

‘Thank you for coming, Kane, though I would prefer in future, if you would wait to be invited in before you enter my office,’ Brandy starts, her tone clipped as she presses her fingers together in front of her and studies me.

I force myself not to shift in my seat under her gaze, I’ll never admit it to anyone, but I always feel uncomfortable around her. Her gaze makes me feel like I’m being judged and no doubt found lacking, and I don’t like it.

‘I’ll be sure to file your preference away carefully,’ I reply, my tone giving no doubt as to where I’ll be filing it.

We glare at each other before she rolls her eyes, something else I f.ucking hate about this woman, the way she looks down on me. I already know I’m not of her caliber, I don’t need a f.ucking reminder.

‘I need you to give me a run down of the event you held three weeks ago’ she tells me, reaching for her pen again. ‘Who it was for, who attended, also names of anyone who may have photos from the evening.’

‘No,’ I reply firmly.

Brandy’s fingers still, the pen in her hand millimetres from the page as her gaze returns to me.

‘No?’ she repeats, frowning.

I cross my arms over my chest, holding her gaze, ‘no,’ I confirm.

‘Kane, this isn’t negotiable . .’ Brandy starts, but I cut her off.

‘You are right’ I agree, ‘it’s not, I’m not giving you any information about my private event, it has nothing to do with you.’

‘You need to run all charity events through this office Grimfield,’ she growls, and I raise an eyebrow at the switch from my first name to last, the fake friendliness is already slipping.

‘I need to run all TEAM events through this office Fabbro’ I retort, ‘and that particular evening was not a team event.’

Brandy’s fingers tighten around her pen, ‘every event involving a player is a team event Grimfield’ she snaps back.

‘Not this one,’ I argue, ‘this one was personal, you don’t get to use it to bolster the f.ucking team for brownie points.’

‘For f.ucks sake, Grim’ Brandy mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose, ‘I’m not thinking about brownie points here, I’m thinking about you! It’s in your goddamn contract! You can get benched for something like this, if the owner finds out . . ‘

‘What are you going to tell on me Dragon lady?’ I demand, sneering as her jaw clenches over the nickname, the one I gave her, and she’s never been able to shake. ‘Are you going to run over to the owners office and tell him how I had a small party and didn’t invite you? Maybe I did? Maybe your invite just got lost in the mail? Boston Post is notorious for losing stuff . . ‘

Brandy snarls, her usually pretty face contorting with anger as she shoots daggers at me.

‘You are impossible’ she huffs.

I push up from the chair smiling widely as her eyes widen in surprise.

‘I am, glad we got this whole thing sorted out, now you have a good day DL and I’ll hopefully see you . . . well never, would be too soon.’ I give her a wink just because I know it will infuriate her further before turning on my heel and swaggering from the room, leaving her behind her desk, mouth hanging open.