“What? What are you guys doing here?” I said stupidly.

The guy who’d coldcocked me was one of my teammates, Jacques “Jock” Frontier, the backup goalie on the Sockeyes. The two guys behind him were also Sockeyes—Gage “Ziggy” Ziegler and Kaden Westbrook.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jock shot back. His gaze went from me to Bria and back to me. His hands were fisted, and he appeared ready to pummel me into dust.

My brain was still groggy, and I still wasn’t getting it. Nothing fit. Nothing clicked.

“I was giving her a ride home.”

Bria said nothing. She wasn’t going to give me any kind of help.

“From where?” Jock growled, but by the look on his face, he knew what we’d been doing.

Ziggy and Kaden pulled me to my feet, using their bodies as a wall of muscled steel between my teammate and me.

“I’m going to kill you,” Jock shouted, lunging for me again. The guys managed to hold him back. “That’s my wife.”

Chapter 2—A New Low

~~Geneva~~

A ruckus erupted outside my big brother’s house, the kind you don’t usually hear in a good neighborhood like this. I would know. I’d lived in plenty of bad ones.

Alarmed and fearing for my bro’s five kids asleep upstairs, I grabbed a baseball bat and ran outside to see what the fuck was going on. And me without my .38 Special. My brother didn’t like guns in the house with all these rug rats.

I stopped dead on the porch. My brother was being held back by two brawny guys I recognized as his teammates, while another guy in mud-caked clothing backed away from him. Even in his disheveled state, he was stunningly handsome. He absently wiped mud and blood from his face but succeeded in merely smearing it around that gorgeous mug of his. I didn’t recognize the bloodied guy, but I knew the other two.

Meanwhile, my brother’s skank of a wife watched the scene with the look of a caged rat, as if she’d finally been caught with her claws on the cheese.

I bet she had.

I fall asleep for ten minutes, and I miss all the action.

I’d have given anything to be the one who’d found that bitch, and I wouldn’t have been as nice as the men. I didn’t have to be. No one expected nice from me. I was Geneva Bouchard, Jacques Frontier’s baby sister, but there was nothing baby about me. I was badass and proud of it. I had the Harley, tattoos, and ex-biker boyfriend to prove it.

I focused the full force of my fury on Jock’s wife. I leveled her with a glare that brought most women to their knees begging for mercy—and quite a few men. The bitch turned her nose up at me, unaffected by my disgust. Now that really chapped my hide.

Bria was supposed to be having a girls’ night out while the nanny watched the five kids. Obviously, she wasn’t hanging out with the girls, but the pretty boy—currently not looking so pretty.