Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
EVERETT
T here’s nothing like the high from a win when your girl is in the stands. After I drop the puck into the top corner of the net, the buzzer sounds, and I look toward the crowd. There she is. Raine’s hands are cupped around her mouth as she screams my name, jumping up and down, cheering for the Hawks while sandwiched between Dylan and Finley. Mav and Lia are on Finley’s opposite side, and even though I know they’re stoked about tonight’s win, I can’t tear my eyes from Raine. Pointing my gloved hand toward her, I mouth, “That was for you,” as a hard body slams into me. Griffin, Reeves, and the rest of the team meet me at the blue line, each of us celebrating the win, when Reeves announces we’re having an impromptu game night at our house. Not gonna lie. I’m not always in the mood for a game night, but after our win, the idea of hanging out with some of my favorite people, including the girl in the stands, sounds like the perfect ending to my evening. As long as Raine’s on board.
After showering quickly, I dress, meet Raine outside, and ask if she’s interested in attending the party. When she agrees, I drive us back to the duplex. The place is already bustling. Cars line the street, and our front yard is overrun with people waiting to be let inside as Reeves approaches. With one hand linked to Dylan’s, they weave through the crowd to unlock the front door.
Leaning toward the windshield, Raine watches the people spill through the front door while we stay parked outside. With a quiet laugh, she admits, “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the chaos of game nights. They are fun, though.”
“Yeah, they’re something.” I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. “We could always go back to the cabin if you prefer.”
“And miss the celebration?” She tears her attention from the crowd outside and smiles. “Hardly. You’re the MVP, Everett Taylor. Soak it up.” Bouncing her eyebrows up and down, she reaches for the door handle with her opposite hand, slips out of my grasp, and exits the car. I follow suit, and we head inside. As soon as we step over the threshold, my team starts chanting my name. The rest of the partiers join in when someone hands us red Solo cups and bombards me with requests for a play-by-play of the last forty-two seconds of tonight’s game.
I keep my hand on Raine’s the entire time, and even though the words coming out of my mouth are all things hockey, I can’t stop rubbing my thumb along her soft skin, blown away that she’s really mine.
“Yo!” Finley calls. “Let your girlfriend go. We want to hang out with her, too!”
“You had her during the game,” I remind her.
“Yeah, well,” my little sister loops her arm through Raine’s, “now we get her until you’re done reliving the glory days.”
“It happened like…two hours ago,” Raine points out, but she lets go of my hand and tucks her hair behind her ear, gi ving me a glimpse of the little storm cloud hidden behind it.
Fucking beautiful.
Her dad gave her the tattoo since she couldn’t reach the spot to do it herself. Not easily, anyway. He didn’t ask any questions, though. He took the stencil she created and got it done. She’s been taking on a few of his clients, too, and is kicking ass, but she’ll never admit it. The girl’s gifted. More than she knows. But it’s nice knowing her dad sees it the same way I do. We haven’t really spoken since the concert, but Raine assures me things are…good overall. Dodger asked if she could come to another of his shows before he leaves, too. He’s picking her up from her shift at Etch ‘N’ Ink next weekend, which works since we have an away game.
“I’ll bring her back in a few,” Finley promises.
My attention snaps from Raine’s tattoo to my little sister. “Where are you taking her?”
“We’re preparing the game.”
“What game did you guys pick?” I ask.
“ Close Your Eyes and Open Wide ,” she quips. “The gentlemen’s version.”
My nose wrinkles. “Of course, you’d pick that one.”
“Hey, Reeves is the one who crowned me queen at the last game night.”
“Only because there are no winners in Spin the Bottle .”
“Not when your boyfriend is a billion miles away, anyway,” she grumbles. “Especially when I spent the whole night taking shots?—”
“Of cranberry juice,” Raine interrupts with a laugh. “Griffin told me.”
“Of course he did,” Finley mutters. “But, I digress. I need Raine’s help, and don’t even think about convincing her to give you any hints. ”
I watch as they move toward the kitchen, nearly groaning at the turn tonight took with a few simple words.
Close Your Eyes and Open Wide is basically Russian Roulette with a food element. It either leaves you puking or snacking on your favorite food. It’s a game of balls and luck. The rules are simple. Random food is hidden underneath a tablecloth, and since it’s the gentleman’s version, the guys are the only ones playing while the girls watch us be miserable. Every guy lines up around the table and picks a covered food item. Once the tablecloth is removed, you have to eat the food in front of you, or you’re eliminated from the game. Winner takes all. Sometimes, you might be lucky enough to have a candy bar or some shit. Other times? You might get dog food or month-old Chinese from the back of the fridge. After each round, the guys left standing leave the room, and the girls reset the food placement. Last one to bow out wins.
Knowing Fin? She’ll be merciless. Maybe Raine will hint at where to stand so I don’t puke during the first round, though I won’t be surprised if she keeps me in the dark.
About ten minutes later, Finley reappears and moseys into the family room. The same thick medallion we use to crown the winner of every game night hangs around her neck. It swings side to side as she climbs onto the coffee table in the center of the space. Too bad for her, she’s still short as shit and barely grabs anyone’s attention until she places her thumb and forefinger between her lips and whistles.
The high-pitched sound makes my ears ring, but it does the job because the party quiets, and she beams with satisfaction.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! Welcome to Game Night!” she announces. Cheering ensues, and I clap my hands slowly. Finley’s grin widens. “First, I want to congratulate LAU on their phenomenal win tonight! You showed determination! Strength! And grit! ”
“Woo-hoo!”
“Fuck yeah, we did!”
“And now, to see if you can continue to show such qualities for tonight’s main event,” she adds. I swear the girl’s eyes twinkle when she pauses for effect. “Tonight, we’re playing Close Your Eyes and Open Wide , gentlemen’s edition!”
Bellows ring throughout the air. It only adds fuel to the fire, and I’ve never heard such a contrasting collection of sounds. Cackles of amusement from the girls. Low groans from the guys. Yeah. They know what’s in store for them, too. Poor bastards
“As always, rules are simple,” Finley continues. “Girls, you’re spectators and judges tonight. Make sure to keep these boys in line. Gentlemen? You’ll be the main event. Let’s see how big your cajones are, shall we?” The girl rubs her hands together mischievously. “In the kitchen, we have bowls covered by a tablecloth. Pick a bowl, any bowl, but don’t peek. If you do, you’re disqualified,” she warns. “Once everyone has chosen, I’ll announce when you can remove the tablecloth. From there, you either eat the contents or tuck your tail in shame. Any questions?” Finley doesn’t even wait a millisecond. “Perfect! Let’s go!”
She jumps off the coffee table and ushers us into the kitchen while my stomach swims in response. The smell of fish clings to the air, and I cross my arms as I walk around the room, studying the red and white plaid-covered lumps lining the island, kitchen table, and countertops. Yeah, my sister is rarely up to anything good, and I have a sinking suspicion tonight’s no exception. Feeling Raine’s gaze, I look up and tilt my head. “Should I be worried?”
Her attention drifts to one of the bowls closest to her for a split second before she links her fingers in front of her and shrugs. “Guess we’ll see.”
There’s my girl .
I follow her lead, moving into position behind the bowl in question. Griffin flanks my left, and Maverick shifts to my right as Finley rounds the room, giving all the guys curious, knowing looks, and fuck me if it isn’t intimidating.
Watching her warily, a knot forms in my gut, and Griffin leans closer, dropping his voice low. “Do you think she knows how terrifying she is?”
Mav chuckles. “Trust me. She knows.”
With only the island separating us, Raine moves closer—distracting us from shaking in our sneakers—and taps her perfectly painted black nail against her chin. “Remind me, what do you get if you win?”
“Other than bragging rights?” Griffin offers for me as he tears his attention from my little sister prowling the kitchen like a caged tiger. “Nothing.”
Raine snorts. “Well then. Good luck.”
Finley appears beside Raine seconds later, shoots my girlfriend a warning look, and places her hands on the counter separating us. She’s careful not to touch the bowl beneath the cloth as she pins me with an unreadable look. “You sure this is the one you want?”
My gaze meets Raine’s again, and I smirk. “Pretty sure.”
“Hmm.” Finley sneaks a quick peek at Griffin but doesn’t say anything as she casts her stare at Mav. “How ‘bout you? You sure this is a safe bet?”
“None of this is safe,” Mav replies dryly.
The bastard makes a good point.
She smirks, steps back, and calls out, “Lift the tablecloth!”
I pinch the corner and raise the checkered fabric. Dropping it immediately, I look at the ceiling and groan, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Turning to Raine, I growl, “I thought you said this was a safe one.”
“Finley dared me to do it,” she rushes out, barely containing her laughter. “I swear?— ”
“And you fell for it!” Finley interrupts. The girl’s practically giddy as she claps her hands and throws her head back in laughter. “I can’t believe you actually fell for it! Wait, wait.” Fumbling with her phone, she pulls it out of her back pocket and points it at me. “I gotta get this on camera.”
I lift the fabric again, my body already threatening to heave. Tuna fish, peanut butter, and chocolate sauce are swirled in the bowl, creating a diarrhea-brown concoction with chunks of flaky fish. My nose wrinkles, and my throat knots as I look up at my sister again. Her phone is pointed directly at me, and I glare at her through the screen when her brows pinch. Slowly, she lowers the phone, letting her thumbs fly across the screen as she watches…something. Eyes wide, she turns the screen off and shifts her panicked look to Raine.
Confusion lines Raine’s forehead as she stammers, “W-what is it?”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, distracting me. I must not be the only one receiving a text because buzzing and ringing start chirping throughout the entire kitchen. I watch as everyone pulls their cell phones out, one after another, while the blood drains from Finley’s face.
“Don’t,” she begs. Rushing toward a few guys, she grabs their phones from their hands and holds them close to her chest, her eyes growing wider and wider with every passing second as she searches the room for…what, exactly? A solution? A safe spot to stash the phones? Don’t get me wrong. My sister’s known for acting unstable on occasion, but this? This is a new level, and if I had to guess, it has something to do with my girl standing beside her.
“No freaking way,” one of the puck bunnies giggles. When her attention snaps to me, she covers her mouth.
“Fuck, man. ”
“Looks like she knows what she’s doing,” a freshman says to his friend beside him as he shows him his phone.
I unlock my cell and find a video from an unknown number. Dread coats my stomach, but I open it anyway. It only takes me a second to recognize it. The cabin. I’m on the couch with Raine on her knees in front of me. My cock is out as she bobs her head up and down on it. Her hair is pushed away from her face, and I can see the hollows of her cheeks as I clutch the back of the couch, my eyes rolling back in my head. The sound doesn’t entirely match the footage like it’s been dubbed over or some shit. But even if the video was silent, it would be just as incriminating. And maybe it’s my imagination, but if I close my eyes, I can still hear it. My grunts of pleasure. The slick sounds of me pushing in and out of her lips. The tiny mewls and whimpers of appreciation as she sucks on me. I don’t know how anyone would’ve gotten this footage, but I know exactly when it happened. And the angle? It only feeds my confusion. It looks like it was taken from the balcony. Like someone actually climbed up the trellis and filmed through the back window. At least, I hope it’s what it looks like. That the slight blur is due to the window. Because the idea of Raine thinking I’m the one who filmed this is enough to make me sick to my stomach. I shut the screen off and look up. Everyone in the room is staring at their phones. And those who aren’t are looking at me or the flash of brown as Raine rushes out of the room.
Fuck.
Forcing my body to move, I charge after her. “Raine!”
The front door slams behind her. I almost crash into it but manage to stop in time. Twisting the handle, I shove it open.
“Raine!”
What if she thinks it was me? We’re at my place. She’s sucking me off. Who else would she think did this? Drake doesn’t know where the cabin is. If he did, he would’ve pounded down the door to get to her the first night she arrived. So, where the hell did this video come from? Panic surges through me as I realize the easy assumptions she’s likely made about the humiliating video footage and how easily it might’ve broken her trust—did break her trust—if her running out the door is anything to go by. What if she never forgives me? Fuck. What if she thinks I would betray her like this?
“Raine!”
I look left and right, desperate to find her. To fix this. To apologize and see if she’s okay. What kind of question is that? Of course, she isn’t. No one would be okay after finding out that not only were they filmed without their knowledge, but said film was distributed to dozens, if not hundreds, of people.
It’s dark, and even with the streetlights, there are so many cars it would be easy for her to disappear. To hide herself from me and anyone else who might’ve seen the video. By the look of things, I’d say it’s damn near everyone.
How did he get their numbers? It had to have been him. It had to. There’s no other explanation. No other culprit who would stoop so low.
I’ll fucking kill him.
“Raine!” I yell. “Raine, I swear it wasn’t?—”
“Open it, please,” a quiet voice begs. I search the street again and find a lump leaning against my car’s passenger door.
Patting my pockets, I find my keys and unlock the vehicle. Part of me wants to rush toward her and drag her into my arms, but I stay glued to my spot instead. Does she think it was me? Does she think I would do this to her? Her movements are slow but controlled as she climbs inside, rests her head against the headrest, and stares at the ceiling .
Forcing myself to move, I wipe my palm against my jeans, then join her. I’ve never been good at this. Feeling helpless. Handling emotional shit. Putting out fires, I can do. Feeling like my hands are tied? Not so much. I know she thinks I handle it all the time, and fuck if I don’t try my best, but this? Seeing her like this? It wrecks me. My hands itch to reach out and hold her. To pull her to my chest and promise to gut the motherfucker who filmed us together, let alone shared it. But is this what she wants? Or is space what she needs? Do I take her home? To a hotel? What can I fucking do?
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t say a word. It’s quiet. Too fucking quiet. Only her shallow breathing is heard as she tugs at the sleeve of her shirt and wipes at her eyes. I swear, I’ve never felt anything like it. The silence. Heavy. Thick. Charged. It’s like a live wire, and I have no idea what happens if I reach out and touch it. If I plead my case. If I ask if she’s okay when I already know she’s the furthest thing from it. But the silence? The unanswered questions? The what-ifs? I can’t fucking take it, and I sure as shit can’t spend another second letting her believe I had anything to do with this when I would never, ever betray her like this.
“It wasn’t me,” I rasp. “I swear?—”
“I know.” Her voice cracks. “I know it wasn’t.” She sniffles and stares out the passenger window, refusing to look at me. “I’m ready to go to the police station now.”
“T-the police?”
Chewing on the edge of her sleeve, she gives me a jerky nod. “It’s time, don’t you think?”
The car rumbles to life, and I pull away from the curb. “Whatever you need.”