Sheena’s cheek hitched up high, and it was easy to see on her clear dark skin that she was thinking. Then she nodded sharply. “Okay. I’ve got it—“

“Your brother was that imbecile?”

‘That imbecile’ had been the fourteen-year-old to my seven-year-old who held my hand when I crossed the street, let me tag along when he’d go play soccer with his friends even though he grumbled, kicked the ball back and forth with me in the backyard before he would go out, and he was the same person that would be on his feet in the stands, yelling at the top of his lungs when I had a bullshit call made against me. I loved my brother. Was he an arrogant jackass who thought he was gifted with a talent straight from heaven? Yes.

But he was the one that had held on to my shoulder when I’d made a horrible play in my younger years that cost my team a championship and told me that it wasn’t the end of the world. While I looked at Kulti as the type of badass I wanted to aspire to be one day, Eric had been the one to assure me I could be better.

When Kulti had broken my brother’s leg, I made my choice.

I would choose my brother every single time.

Except as my lips formed the shape it took to enunciate the letter ‘b’ for bitch, I remembered.

I remembered what Gardner had warned us of two weeks ago during our first Pipers meeting. If I hear any of you call him Führer, you’re out of here. Fuck me.

Calling him a bitch wasn’t better, was it?

A bag of dicks wasn’t much better either.

My lips sealed themselves together and in response my nostrils flared.

“He isn’t an imbecile, but Eric is my brother,” I answered him carefully. My eye was starting to twitch.

From ten feet away, someone’s green-brown eyes narrowed. “What else would you call someone—“

My eye went full speed twitching and before I thought twice, I cut him off. “That purposely swept an opponent’s leg harder than necessary?” I shrugged. “You tell me.”

My throat clogged instantly and the twitching in my eyelid got worse once the words were out. I’d done it. Jesus Christ. I’d insinuated he was an imbecile but hinting at it wasn’t the same thing as outright calling him one, right?

Sheena let out a low, ringing laugh that had ‘awkward’ written all over it. “Okay, I’m sure we can avoid the name-calling, yes?” She didn’t wait for an answer from either one of us before going on. “I have an idea, and I don’t see why it wouldn’t work to calm things down a little. I spoke to Mr. Kulti’s publicist a week ago and he made it clear to me that his party has been receiving some similar messages, but we were hoping things would calm down eventually. Since they’re not, let’s do this: Sal, we’ll release your part of the press conference we had a few weeks ago—“

My jaw dropped and I’m pretty positive that my heart skipped a single beat. I choked, loud and clear on my saliva.

The PR employee shot me a look. She’d been there. She’d seen what an ass I made of myself. “I’ll make sure it’s edited. We have videographers coming in to film some of the practices for the website, and I’m sure they can catch some footage of the two of you getting along. There are also some promo shots coming up, and with some easy placement,” she grinned and waggled her fingers like she hadn’t just spouted out one of the worst ideas I’d ever heard, “problem solved for both of you.”

I chewed on my thoughts for a minute, glancing at the German sitting four feet away. Mouthing and discarding the curse words that ran through a loop in my head.

The press conference video? No. Hell no.