Twisted Collide: The new sports romance in the Redville Saints series
Twisted Collide: Chapter 9

An impromptu meeting with the team and our coach wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day.

Not only am I still hung over from last night, but I’m not in the mood to be lectured that I bailed out early on the party.

And Coach will lay into me. Rightfully so, of course, but my head is killing me, and the truth is, I’d very much like to linger in the high I’m still feeling from bumping into the little hellfire in the vines.

Fuck.

There are no words to even describe how much I needed that.

She was everything I didn’t know I needed at the exact moment I needed it.

Pure perfection.

A silly goddess, one with a trident, but a goddess, nonetheless.

When she started walking the “tightrope,” I knew she was like no one I had ever met before, and for the first time since my parents died, I felt anything was possible.

Too bad it couldn’t last longer.

Luckily, the memory is mine, and I’ll be replaying it in my mind for a long time.

My phone rings, and I know who it is without even looking at it. By now, Molly has found the little surprise I left for her at her front door.

I grab it from my pocket, swiping the screen to answer it.

“What the hell did you do?” Her high-pitched voice is a bit much after last night, but I understand that she’s excited, so I’ll give her a pass for practically blowing out my eardrum.

“You’ll have to be more specific?”

“Don’t be an ass. You know what I’m talking about. The ticket. The trip.”

“No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“It’s too much, Dane.” A crashing sound echoes through the phone. “Shit. Sorry. I’m fine, just dropped my cell.” Her voice sounds far off, and I can’t help but laugh despite the pain it causes me in my hungover state.

“You good?”

“Yeah, sorry. But seriously, Dane, this is too much.”

“Nothing is enough for all you do for me.” I halt my steps, not ready to walk into the arena yet.

“But this is over a month. I don’t get back until the first game of the season. How will you live?”

That’s my sister, always cutting right to the chase. “Do you think I’m totally helpless?”

“Yes.”

“Ouch, I’m wounded.” I’m not. She’s right. I am helpless, but I won’t admit that, or she may actually not go.

“No, you’re not. You know it’s true.”

She has me there.

“Fine. I am, but I promise I’ll be okay.”

Molly takes a deep sigh. “If you say so, but just in case, I’m going to call a temp agency. I love you, Dane. I wish—”

“Listen, Mol, I have to go. Coach called a meeting, but text me when you get to the airport.”

“Will do. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hang up the phone, then swing open the door and walk into our practice facilities. I head in the direction of where Coach said to meet.

When I arrive, I’m not the first one there.

Actually, by the crowd formed in the middle of the room, I’m most likely the last.

Coach isn’t around when I walk in, so I look for Aiden Slate. He’s typically in the know of what’s to come. Aiden takes the sport seriously. He loves the game, and it shows.

Aiden’s standing next to Hudson and Mason. Hudson says something, and Mason slaps him in the gut, drawing a harrumph from Hudson.

I head in their direction, preparing myself for the questions. And there will be questions. Hudson can’t help but pry.

“Look who decided to finally grace us with his pres—” Hudson starts, but Aiden cuts him off.

“Oh, give the guy a break.” Aiden nods in my direction. That’s why I appreciate Aiden Slate; he knows when I need space. He can read the room, unlike the idiot Wilde.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Hudson—he’s one of my best friends—but the guy has a lot of growing to do.

“I’m not doing anything.” Hudson raises his hands. “I just wanted to see what happened last night and why he’s late today.”

“Am I late? Because from what I can see, the meeting hasn’t even started. Any idea why we’re here?” I ask, directing the question to Aiden.

“I’m actually surprised you don’t know. Coach likes you best,” Hudson chides playfully. Normally, if someone said that, I’d think they were jealous, but not Hudson. He’s just keeping it real. Coach does like me best.

Probably because he’s known me the longest out of all the guys. When I first started playing professionally for the Saints, it was the coach’s first year with the team as well.

The man is more like a father than a coach to me.

He knows about my past . . . well, most of it.

Some things I wouldn’t tell him or anyone, at that. Those secrets will go to the grave with me.

Not even Molly is privy to them.

“Guess we’ll replace out now. Coach just walked in,” Mason says from beside me.

I shuffle my weight from one foot to the other and then wait. Time goes slower as the room becomes quiet. Even though we just won the Cup, this man won’t go easy on us; knowing him, he’ll actually push us harder.

His footsteps echo through the space until he stops dead center in the room and lets out a cough.

“Men, I’ll make this short and sweet. I’m sure you all have a lot to do, and by do, I mean training, right?”

A few men start laughing.

I look over at Hudson. Everyone in the room knows he plans to spend the next few weeks making his way through every bar in Redville and most likely fucking every female in the town. He’s a notorious player.

“We’ll have some staffing changes next season. I figured I’d tell you now rather than drop this on you guys on the first day back. That way, if you have any questions or concerns, we can discuss them beforehand. Not that I anticipate any issues.”

Coach speaks, but his words sound blurry in my head. A killer hangover will do that.

He’s rambling on about marketing. Some social media shit. Maybe I should have made Molly come to this meeting. This is more her speed because lord knows I’m not listening for shit.

“—meet my daughter.” I don’t catch any of his words but those, and that makes my head snap up.

What did he just say?

Daughter?

I didn’t know Coach had a daughter. How did I not know he had a daughter?

I take a step forward, pushing my way through the crowd so I can figure out what the hell is going on.

With all the time I’ve spent with this man, I should have known this, right? Apparently, we both have secrets.

My chest feels tight. I lift my hand to rub at the spot, but something tells me the pain isn’t from a tight muscle.

I stand in the front of the crowd directly before him. My brow is lifted when he catches my gaze. He gives me a nod. From my knowledge of this man, this is his way of telling me there’s a story, and it’s a story he’ll tell me later.

Interesting.

“Here she is,” he says as he pivots his body toward the door. My head turns in the direction with him, and the moment his daughter saunters through the door, my heart stops.

What the hell is this?

Her footsteps are barely audible, but in my head, they echo like a freight train. Actually, that might be the sound of the blood rushing through my veins or the pounding headache that is now threatening to knock me unconscious, and the reason stands right in front of me.

Hellfire.

The little hellfire is the coach’s daughter.

Fuck my life.