Face-Off at the Altar
Page 7

“Honey, he goes to Florida with you and comes home morbidly obese. I feel you should leave him here so I can get him back in shape,” her mother suggested, but Mekena shook her head.
“He is my baby. He is going with me. I hated when he was here and I was in the dorms. Don’t worry, we are discussing his eating habits. It’s a one-sided conversation, though,” Mekena announced, and apparently, that was funny. “We are working on it.”
“Lord,” her mother laughed, shaking her head. “Speaking of food, I’m hungry. Let’s go out.”
“Ooh, yes!” Libby exclaimed.
Her father laughed. “I could eat, but Mr. Right can skip dinner.”
Before Mekena could scold him, she was interrupted. “Yeah, I’m starving.”
Mekena froze at the last voice that added to what she had thought was a party of four. Turning, she found her older sister leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest, a shit-eating grin on her face. She was wearing a pair of shorts that were way too short for Mekena’s taste, along with an even tighter shirt. Her dark hair was pulled up in a messy bun, her eyes smoky with makeup. She was beautiful. Even though she was a whoring-ass bitch, she would always be beautiful.
The two sisters were night and day.
Always had been, always would be.
Mekena’s very modest skirt reached her ankles and her blousy top hung off her shoulders, while her dark hair was in curls down her back. She was considered the pretty one, not beautiful or gorgeous. Just pretty, and she was okay with that. But when he was around, he used to say she was gorgeous and hot, and it spoiled her and made the loss of him even more painful.
As her body shook with anger, she stood, clearing her throat. “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”
Before she could move, though, her mother stopped her. “Kennie, it’s five. Come on.”
“No, I’m good,” she said, pulling away and starting toward the hall that led to her room. Before she could reach it, though, her father’s voice stopped her.
“Don’t you think this is getting old? It’s been well over a year. Time to bury the hatchet, don’t you think? You two are sisters.”
Mekena scoffed. “Yeah, and one would think that would keep her from fucking the guy I was with. But apparently, it didn’t. So, yeah, y’all have fun.”
She was answered with silence and awkward looks. When she went to go past Skylar, her sister stepped in front of her. Glaring up at the person she had once idolized, Mekena said, “Move.”
“Kennie, come on. This is insane. It’s been, like, years since it happened, and y’all weren’t even really together, just dating.”
“Yeah, so that means it’s okay to fuck him, right?”
“Kennie, come on, I obviously I did it for you—”
“Fuck. You,” she said sharply and with all the anger her body could muster. “You broke my heart, and I have nothing to say to you.”
“Kennie! I couldn’t have you waste your virginity on that filth. I had to show you he was trash—”
Mekena didn’t even stay to hear the rest. She pushed past Skylar, going into her room and slamming the door. Looking to the bed, she saw Mr. Right sound asleep, not even the least bit concerned that the door just slammed or that his owner was on the brink of tears.
And boy, was she trying not to let them fall.
She had cried enough over the betrayal by her sister. The heartbreak by him. But her heart was pounding, her body was shaking, and everything just hurt like a festering wound. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the door and exhaled hard as she shook her head. She hadn’t seen her sister in over a year, and seeing her again was like it had all happened once more.
And just like that, she was back to that morning.
To the morning where she watched her sister come out of his house.
He was just standing there, no shirt, a pair of loose-fitting shorts, his hands covering his face—until he heard her voice. When he looked up, his eyes were full of regret, shock, and he almost looked as if he was about to cry.
But Skylar, she was smiling, her hair a mess, and her clothes wrinkled from the night before.
Ruffling Mekena’s hair, she grinned and said, “Not worth it, babe.”
And then she walked away. No cares in the world.
All Mekena could do was look to him, praying he would say it was all not true. That he did not have sex with her sister, but he couldn’t. He just kept apologizing, trying to stop her, but Mekena couldn’t even form words. Couldn’t even fathom how this could have happened.
But it did.
And now she was going to have to face him too.
But thank God it was only for one day.
After a quick shower, since Markus didn’t want to keep Elli waiting, he started to make his way to the coach’s office. When he turned the hall, though, he heard Elli’s voice ringing through the door, and it stopped him in his tracks.
Elli Adler was scary when she was mad.
“Please explain to me how these boys are supposed to play to their potential when you aren’t helping them get there, but rather cutting them down. I have never in all my years of owning a team heard a coach talk to his boys like that. This is your warning, Saint. I won’t stand for this, and I will replace you.”
About time someone told him that, Markus thought as he came to a stop in front of the door. Before he could knock, though, her voice shook the wood. “Do you like when people scream at you or call you names?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then why would they? When I hired you, I told you I wanted my team to feel like a family. That’s the way the Assassins are. We are a family that has each other’s backs, on and off the ice. Can you honestly look me in my eyes and tell me this team is a family? ’Cause last I checked, everyone was playing their own game and not a game as one. I doubt any of them even talks outside of the game, and I blame you for that. Are you doing the team-building exercises I sent you?”
“They are just—”
“I’ll take that as a no. And let me tell you, that will change from this second on, and if it doesn’t, I will find a coach who will make my wants and needs his number one priority. Are you that coach, Mr. St. Marc?”
Coach didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”