“Don’t talk back to me, boy. You know who the boss is around here, you know who you belong to. I’ve got enough on you to put you away for years, never mind playing hockey for a living. Did you forget?” Jack pushed himself to his feet. He sauntered toward me, unintimidated by my superior height and muscle. Of course, he didn’t need to beat me to threaten me. He wasn’t lying; he had evidence of plenty of the illegal shit I did in his name. Starting from the night we’d met, he’d been keeping a record on me that would never die—not until he did.
