18. Secrets And Tats
Chapter 18
Secrets And Tats
Dev
I’m still operating on not enough sleep as we’re dressing for our game. After that long night with Cece at the vet’s office, she was able to bring them home, but they’ve demanded a lot of attention all week. Antibiotics, a vaporizer. The lengths she’s willing to go to look after the weird little creatures hits me hard. So, I’ve been over there a lot, helping her. The one good thing about the situation is my fear of rodents is ebbing away. Something about seeing them helpless, relying on her to look after them, eased it. Gave me a clean start. I still might not be too keen on spotting that mouse darting around, but I think I could handle it better.
Even thinking about her brings a small smile to my face. Never a good idea when you’re in the middle of a room full of guys who are used to your glower .
“Is Lucy smiling? Lucy, are you okay?” JJ asks. “I think he might be possessed or something. Anyone know an exorcist. I think the devil really did let something in. We need to help him.”
“Shut your mouth, JJ.” I’m almost snarling, but as usual, my threat does nothing to deter him.
Beau steps between us as I’m rising out of my seat, fists balled up. “When did you get that new ink?” I twist around, hand flying up to my newest tattoo. It’s on the left side of my chest, wrapping around under my arm, so it’s tucked away near my heart but not too visible. Only about four inches tall, it blends into the mass of tats already imprinted on my skin. It escaped his notice for a couple of months, but of course Beau noticed it.
“End of the summer.” I yank my shirt down over it as he’s moving in to get a closer look.
While I appreciate Beau’s intervention, now I’m even more on edge since he’s noticed the tat I’ve been keeping on the down low. Somehow even his sister hasn’t noticed it yet. Might be because I’m usually the one in charge when we’ve got significantly fewer clothes on, but still I thought she’d see it. And if she does, I’m not sure what I’ll say.
“You trying to hide something? Let me see. The style looks different from your usual. Did you go to a new artist?”
“No.”
I’m rolling up my socks and throwing every fuck off vibe I can muster his way.
“It’s like that, is it? Okay. Have it your way. No questions. ”
The problem here is that he knows all my tattoos have some kind of meaning. And if he happens to recognize the art style, we’re all going down.
“Boys. Stop fucking around. I need your asses out on the ice!”
Coach walks in, he’s got his give-them-hell face on. Usually reserved for playoff games. Must be something going on.
I grab my helmet, jumping up from the bench. Never thought I’d be glad to see angry Coach, but it’s a temporary reprieve from my best friend’s scrutiny.
“We’ve got some VIP donors and alumni in the stands tonight, so best behavior. No fighting, no dirty play. You can save that for our away game next week.”
Hail snickers, giving Grant a shoulder check as he walks by. Coach doesn’t catch it, so I step in, arms crossed over my chest, glowering down at the little shit of a rookie.
He backs off Grant, but pretends he’s not scared of me, puffing his chest out.
The game starts off fine. We’re playing Boston. The only problem is they’re an aggressive team. And since my job is to keep them in check, it’s going to be twice as hard to keep things clean for Coach and the donors. I wish we didn’t have to care about these things, but someone has to pay for the fancy arena and all the new equipment that flows through the system.
There are problems from the start. They come in fast and hot, clipping Cole behind the refs back barely a couple minutes into the first period. Beau’s got his hands full keeping their other D-man off Hail, so I swoop in to mete out some punishment. I push the offender away from where he’s harassing Cole, shoving him into the boards.
Backing off, I scan the ice, racing up to the action and then hanging back a bit. Cole swept up as soon as he was clear, but they got in his way again, tangling him up while someone snatches the puck from between his legs.
Skate blades cut the ice in a flurry of snow as we all push ourselves to the limit to get to the goal. They’ve got too much of a lead, though. Their wingers are tossing the puck back and forth, searching for a shot.
Beau gets up in their center’s grill, trying to steal the puck, but he tosses it to the right. Beau doesn’t react. He’s leaning in, shouting at the opposing team member. Shit. He never loses it, but it looks like he’s about to drop his gloves. I have no idea what that guy said to antagonize our cool, collected captain, but it must have been worse than the usual chirping. I’m heading over to help when a collective groan from the crowd sinks my stomach as the horn blares, and our net lights up. JJ. Fuck. He let one in. And none of us did anything to stop it. We haven’t played this bad all year. Something is off.
The other team is sharing a victory hug. Coach is screaming at us to get our heads out of our asses.
“Fuck, Beau. What the hell was that about?” Usually, he’s the one dressing us down when we fuck up, but as his best friend, I have to take over the job when he loses it.
“He was talking trash about my sister.” Beau blows out a breath, shaking his head. “I know better than to let that get to me but fuck man. My sister is off limits. ”
I can’t even focus on the warning in his tone. Some asshole was talking trash about Cece. “What did he say?”
“I can’t even repeat it.”
“What did he say?” I repeat. Needing to know. It can’t be worse than all the things running through my head.
“He said he heard she gives good head, so he might try her out later. Fat bitches are always the best at sucking dick, and from what he’s seen, she’s got nice tits.”
“From what he’s seen? The fuck?” My entire body is on fire, trembling. My head is swimming with a level of rage I haven’t felt in a long time. “Why is he still mobile?”
“I can’t let that shit get to me,” Beau says. “I know better. It’s all bullshit talk. My sister would never let that piece of shit near her, but it still gets me going. I think he’s seen those pictures of her from the summer.”
“You’re right, he wouldn’t.” Because I would disassemble him tooth by tooth if he laid even a pinky finger on her.
The buzzer sounds the end of the first period, and we head off the ice.
The disgusting words are still running through my head when we get back out there, and I am laser focused on number 33. The one who clearly doesn’t value his face.
“I’ll look after it, Beau.” I tell him as we settle in for a lecture.
“What did I tell you, boys? You’ve been playing decent all season and today you choose to play like I let a pack of dusters on the ice. Beau, you should have gotten that puck. Hail, get your head out of your ass and pass the puck. You shouldn’t have even had possession when they stole it from you. Get back out there and smarten the fuck up or you’re all losing your spots.”
Beau stands up, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You’re right. I let myself get distracted, and it cost us a goal, but there’s still time to turn this thing around. They’re playing like a bunch of thugs because they’re not as good as us. We got this.”
The agreement is not as enthusiastic as usual. Apparently, the rough start to the game has taken its toll on us.
“We got this!” He raises his voice this time.
“You better,” Coach says.
It’s fine. They were bullshit words. I don’t need to make that asshole pay. That’s what he wants. To rile us up so bad we get ourselves into trouble. I’m trying to convince myself, but my hands are still a little shaky.
The second period starts out a little smoother. Cole and Hail have slipped back into a smooth rhythm. Their teamwork has been smoother since Beau got them doing some extra practice together. Not as smooth as Seb, and Woodsy, and Jacks last year, but they were the dream team, and that kind of chemistry takes time to build. I miss those guys.
Beau and I are working the back end, cutting back and forth, trying to keep the way clear for our offensive line when it happens. Number 33 gets handsy again with Cole when he’s trying to receive a pass to make a run for the net. Beau and I advance on him like a couple of tigers slinking up on their prey. We get in close, pressuring him .
I’m about to drive him back into the boards when he chirps at Beau. “Look, your sister showed up. Guess she couldn’t resist the offer of my dick tonight. Don’t worry. I won’t give her my jersey. She’s okay but not hot enough to wear mine. Plus, everyone has seen her tits now. I know I’ve got a pic saved on my phone.”
The rage I shoved down earlier comes roaring back and my skates clear the ice as I make a run at him. My entire body is trembling, limbs numb, all reasonable thought long gone from my brain. All I can think about is how hard I’m going to take that fucker down.
“Lucy, stop!” Beau’s warning comes way too late. And I don’t think I’d have listened to it even if it was in time.
There’s a thump, and pain spikes down my arm as my body hurtles through the air, slamming into him with a crunch.
We hit the ice, and he gets an extra slam when I land on top of him. At least he broke my fall, but now there’s chaos all around us.
I’m flying back as someone yanks me off him before I can get a punch in. I want to pound his face in until it’s unrecognizable.
I’m still struggling against the hold on my arms even as I’m dragged away.
The ref calls it a major and I’m sent to the penalty box, but it takes three of our guys to drag me off the ice. I’m not even sure who takes me. My vision is so blurred by my anger.
“What the fuck, man? Thanks for defending my sister’s honor and all, but now we’re fucked. ”
I blow out a breath. “Sorry.” Even as I say it, I know it’s not true. I would pound that asshole into the ice again if he said anything about Cece. He was probably lying. She’s probably not even here.
But I look up toward the friends and family section, and my heart skips a few beats when I spot her. She is wearing a jersey. I’m sure it’s not mine, and that chafes, but the horrified look on her face cuts deep. I don’t want her to look at me like that.
The audience is going crazy. Some of them are riled up and pounding the floor, some of them are booing now that the away team has the advantage of a five-minute power play.
It’s painful to watch the next five minutes from the box. Boston scores two more goals before I’m out, and then Coach immediately pulls me.
“The fuck was that all about, Connell?” He gets in my face. “All I asked was for you guys to play a clean game, and you had to go out there and play the worst you have all year.”
“That asshole was playing dirty the entire game, and then he was talking shit about Beau’s sister. Family is off limits, Coach.”
“You know better than that. He was talking trash to get you riled up and gain an advantage. They know we’re better than them. Not that anyone could tell from that travesty. And you fell right into his trap. She’s not even your sister. I appreciate loyalty but not at the expense of the team.”
Now that the adrenaline has worn off, I’m shaky, cold, and tired. I lift a hand to swipe my hair away before I nod. “I’m sorry. ”
I am, but only because I cost us the game. Not for what I did to him. It’s not like I actually started a fight. That would have been an immediate DQ.
“Get out of here. I’m not even going to make you suffer. I’m sure your team will take care of that for me, and the fans as well.”
Right. I don’t even bother to shower. Ripping my equipment off to change clothes, and slamming my locker shut on the way out. No way I’m waiting for Beau. That’s an uncomfortable conversation I’m not ready for. I’ll head home, grab a hot shower and hide out in my room until this blows over.
Except, when I storm out the back door, there’s someone waiting for me.