Chapter 97

Lucas POV

Driving home after the exhilarating game, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

After I said goodbye to all my friends, I hopped on my motorcycle and started to make my way to Grandma Jo’s.

I spent the first few minutes of my drive thinking about the game we had just won. While I imagined the other players were out celebrating, I was already thinking about how much harder we were going to have to play at our next game.

The victory had put us on the path to the championships, but it also meant that the pressure was on. As the captain of the Dragon hockey team, it was my responsibility to ensure we were ready to face whatever challenges came our way.

Being in the championships was no joke. From now until the championship game, we had to take practice seriously. Mentally, I was already planning and plotting out drills for us to work on to make our team even stronger.

I was determined to lead my team to victory.

Turning onto the familiar streets that led to Grandma Jo's house, I felt a calmness take over me.

I loved this drive. The neighborhood that Shana and I had grown up in had grown in its own way. Overgrown trees covered the sides of the winding streets.

Although it was night and I couldn't see the trees as clearly, I could hear the leaves as they rustled in the wind, adding an extra relaxing ambiance.

As I turned down a street, a light in my rear-view mirror caught my attention.

I noticed that a black SUV was driving directly behind me.

At first, I didn't think much of it, but as I continued driving, the SUV stayed unnervingly close... Almost as if they were following me.

I turned on a few different streets to test if they were really following me, and to ensure I wasn't just imagining things. But sure enough, each time they turned on a new street, they followed suit.

Annoyance bubbled within me. Seriously, was this some kind of twisted game? Who was following me?

I pulled over to the side of the road and turned off my bike's engine. Whoever this was, was going to get a piece of my mind. I'm not just going to allow them to stalk me like this.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I watched the SUV pull up behind me. Without hesitation, I approached the back door of the SUV, and it opened to reveal my father sitting inside.

I stilled in my tracks. Of course, it was him.

I should've known by the blacked-out SUV that most of my father's security guards drove.

"Why the hell are you following me?" I demanded, my frustration evident in my voice. "Aren't there better ways of getting my attention?"

My father's expression was an odd mix of annoyance and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "I've tried texting, and I've tried calling before. You chose not to respond to any of my attempts, so this seemed like the next best option."

"So you decided to stalk me instead?" I scoffed, my irritation only growing more. "Or were you trying to scare me?"

My father ignored my questions, gesturing for me to get inside the car.

In a condescending tone, he said, "Let's not make a scene here. Get in, Lucas. We need to talk."

"Fine, let's talk." Reluctantly, I slid into the backseat, feeling a surge of irritation.

I had barely fully settled into my seat when the arguing started.

"I had quite the surprise when I got home earlier and saw that my security guard was knocked unconscious in your bedroom, only to see that you also split open your closet door," My father said calmly, but the steely look in his eyes was anything but calm.

"What did you expect me to do?" I asked with a scoff. "Just sit in that closet forever?"

His accusations and my defenses—it was a loop we had been through countless times. It was like trying to push a boulder up a hill, knowing it would inevitably roll back down.

I tried to reason with him, but he was steadfast in his anger.

"Do you realize what you did? You injured a security guard, Lucas. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I needed to get out of there, no matter what it took." I clenched my fists, struggling to maintain my composure. "I was thinking about the game, about my team. I couldn't let your theatrics keep me from that."

"And your theatrics the past few weeks? What am I to make of that?" My father growled. "You're constantly rebelling and making decisions you don't know anything about!"

"I'm only trying to do what I think is best for me!"

"You don't know what's best for you!"

"And you do?" I asked, finally letting those three words slip out. "I still want to be involved in the business, but I want it to be on my own terms. I don't want to be forced into things or have someone constantly criticizing my every move."

His eyes bore into mine, his voice laced with bitterness. "You know, your brother would have never done anything like this because he was—"

I cut him off, my patience fraying at the mention of my younger brother who had passed away years ago. "Don't bring him into this. He's gone. He's dead."

"He would've never disobeyed me like this." My father's voice was cold and calculating. "He understood his place, his responsibilities."

"He was still a child! Of course, he wouldn't disobey you, he wasn't even strong enough to put up a fight yet," I said.

I swallowed back the rising anger. My "brother" was nothing more than a memory, a symbol of a goal I could never reach. "He's not here, Dad. And I'm not him."

"But I can bet money on that eventually," I continued, "he would've done the same thing that I'm doing to you now. He would've spoken up, and he wouldn't have tolerated any of this. You'd still be disappointed."

My father stared at me with piercing cold eyes. Every cruel thought that he had toward me was so visible in his gaze.

The tension in the SUV only grew the longer we stared at one another. But I was tired of this constant comparison, tired of trying to meet his expectations. I couldn't do it anymore.

"I've made up my mind," I said firmly, my voice steady. "I want to move in with Grandma Jo. I need space from all of this. It's suffocating the both of us."

His expression was a mixture of disbelief and anger.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't wait for a response.

I opened the door and stepped out of the SUV, slamming it shut behind me.

I hopped onto my bike and sped off, leaving the heavy weight of the conversation with my father behind me.

But as the wind whipped against my face, James and Shana's earlier concerns played over in my head.

They were right, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that this wasn't the end of it.

My father's hold over me was relentless, his manipulation a constant threat.

But I was done playing his game. It was time to break free, no matter the cost.