If I burst out that their precious superstar was literally holding me here by force, would they be able to get me out safely?
Looking at how Gabriel loomed over the entire room, the dark suit stretched tight over his shoulders, I didn’t think so.
I sat down.
“This is Dr. Lindeth,” Gabriel said in his deep bass voice. “She has been working with me to find healthy coping strategies for stress.”
Assshole fucker
He thought it was funny to taunt me, knowing I couldn’t do anything as long as he had that blackmail material.
My mind was racing as I half-listened to the Steelheads management talk.
Certain regrettable incidents. . .
A fight in a bar that had ended in significant injuries to others. . .
Surely that had been provoked. . .
Destruction of property. . .
Car that had been totaled. . .
And, of course, the college hockey commissioner who. . . suddenly turned around a suspension after a mysterious fire at his house. . .
I was astonished that even the litany of his sins didn’t fully express how dangerous he was.
What else had he done?
Truly, no matter what, Ihad to tell the truth. I could not lie.
But, even as I determined to do the right thing, Gabriel brought my phone out of his pocket and laid it gently on the table in front of him, his big hands resting coolly beside it.
Fuck
I eyed the hateful thing fearfully.
I knew exactly what was on there. My face tipped-up, my mouth opened wide, on my knees in front of mypatientas his cum coated my tongue and splashed over my face.
“What do you think, Dr. Lindeth?” the Steelblades coach asked. “As his therapist you are in a unique position to confirm or deny if he is fit to play hockey.”
I hesitated.
This was my entire scholarly reputation down the toilet if anyone found out about it.
Because Gabriel was the most frightening psychopath I had ever encountered.
After all, most psychopaths weren’t remotely violent.
Gabriel had benefited from his unusually attractive face and body. His violence had been sporadic and done with an almost bored casualness.
Unless there was more we didn’t know about. . .
His hands were folded on the table and there wasn’t a muscle that moved in his face.
You should have seen what he did to me!I wanted to scream.
You should see the bruises on my hips from where he holds me down.
