Chapter 93 WESTON

Chapter 93 WESTON
WESTON’S POV
The door opened with a soft click behind me. I knew she was there before she even said anything.
“How is she?” Madison asked, stepping close enough that I could smell her perfume.
I didn’t spare her a glance. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m checking on poor Irene.” She cooed, stepping closer to my mother’s sleeping form. “Oh, poor darling, I don’t know how you can stomach seeing her like this, Weston.”
I sighed. “I’m asking what you’re doing here, in this house?” I turned my glare on her. “Did Andrew invite you?”
She pouted, folding her arms. “I had no clue you’d even be here. I came to speak with your father, you meeting me here is just a happy coincidence. Call it fate.”
She stepped closer, her scent familiar. I sucked in a sharp breath and stepped back. “What business do you have with Andrew?”
She cast a glance over her shoulder, at the nurse fiddling with my mother’s IV stand and wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I don’t think you want us to have this conversation here.”
She brushed past me then and left the room without another word, glancing back over her shoulder to see if I followed. Once the door shut behind her, I returned my attention to my mother’s sleeping form.
“Is she okay?” I glanced up at the nurse, and she gave me an unreadable look.
“I’m sorry, your father has instructed I not provide any information regarding her health to anyone that’s not him.” She pursed her lips and drifted to the medicine cabinet by the bed.
I blinked after her in surprise. “That’s ridiculous. She’s my Mother. I’ve been taking care of her for years.”
The woman remained unmoved. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pierce, but I’m under contract.”
I scoffed at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. I’ve been by her side at her lowest moments. I’m the one who picked up all the pieces of her shattered soul after Gabe died, and where the fuck was Andrew?
Fucking around and being a menace to everyone around him.
And he has the guts to keep me away from my own Mother’s recovery? Just how low was he willing to go to ensure his stupid, hockey legacy.
My jaw ticked with the force of my anger, and I left the room before I could say something scathing to the nurse. She was just an employee, it wasn’t her fault.
I found Madison waiting in one of the libraries on the east wing. It was the closest to my bedroom, and we’d spent many years hiding out here together when we were younger. It was a bittersweet memory, and I refused to let the sentimentality get a hold of me as I stepped in.
The Madison standing in front of me, and the girl I’d curled up next to as a twelve-year-old on lazy Sunday afternoons, were completely different people.
“Father wants to withdraw his sponsorship from the team.” She announced without preamble, pinning me with a steady look. “As a punishment.”
I quirked a brow, “To who? You’re the one who faked a pregnancy. What did I do?”
She shrugged one shoulder, and I got the feeling that there was a lot more she wasn’t telling me. “I can’t begin to understand his reasoning, but I can’t allow that to happen. The team needs Daddy’s funding, and I care for you.”
I pinned her with an unamused glare. “Madison, why are you here?”
A muscle in her jaw ticked, and her grip on the desk’s edge whitened. “I’m here so Andrew and I can reach a compromise that benefits us all. I know how much he’s investing in your NHL future, he wants to see you succeed, and so do I.”
“Bullshit.” I scoffed, already turning to leave. “If you have nothing worthwhile to say, stay the hell away from me.”
I reached for the door knob, about to push it open when she spoke up again, her voice low. “Are you still sleeping with him? The freshman.”
I stiffened immediately, shutting the door firmly as I turned around. “That’s none of your business.”
“It is.” She snapped back, “Andrew invited him over, I heard. Does he know he’s gay? That you are?”
“I’m not.” I snarled, hating the way my heart began to pound. “Stop spreading lies.”
“Oh, you’re not?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “What are you then? Bi? Pan? If you’re going to leave me for a boy, at least be honest about what you are.”
“Shut up.” My hands trembled, and I fisted them tightly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s never been an us, and there’s no Elliot and I. I just want to fucking play hockey. I don’t need all these. So, stay the fuck away from me.”
“You’re pathetic.” She sneered, putting as much venom as she could into each word. “And an idiot. There’s no future with you and the freshman, we both know that. And when it all blows up in your face, which you know deep down it will, you won’t have me either at your back. You’ll be well and truly alone. Without me, without Andrew, without Elliot, and without Gabe.”
I blinked fast as her words sunk in and the world began to tilt, the static in my ears became a loud ringing noise as she continued her tirade.
“You had your chance to pick your allies,” she spat, brushing past me to leave, “And you blew it. Don’t come running back when it’s over for you.”
The door slammed shut with a definitive click, and the ringing in my ears got louder. My breath was ragged as I sunk down into one of the couches, my head in my hands.
I sucked in lungful after lungful, trying to calm myself down, and from the corner of my eye, I caught the edge of a picture peeking out between journals on the table.
Trembling, I reached for it and pulled it out.
Gabe stared out at me, face frozen in time. It was one of his most recent pictures, probably a few months before the accident, and he was on the ice. His last game.
Sweat shone on his brow, and there was dried blood on his brow from a cut, he looked severe and untouchable in his gear, gold medal hanging from his neck. Dad stood next to him, arm around his shoulder, a beaming smile on his face, Mom stood just beside, bouquet in hand, bright and radiant.
And I wasn’t even in the picture. I couldn’t remember why.
His ring glinted sharply on my finger and I was suddenly very angry. I yanked it off and threw it in the direction of the bookshelves. It bounced against the wood with a small noise and rolled out of sight, and I swallowed down a sob.
“This is all your fault.” I gasped, unsure who I was even speaking to.
The door opened then, but I didn’t look up. It was probably staff, they’d leave when they realized it was occupied. But then someone cleared their throat and when I glanced up, Elliot stood there, an unsure look on his face.
“Hey,” he said, cheeks pink. “I think I’m lost.”