Chapter 23
23
Aviva
T he storm hit the Friday after October break at The Stacks. There’d been another home game that night. It had played on the TVs, and I’d done my best to ignore it. It helped that we were slammed. Although even I couldn’t ignore the cheering that signaled another win.
At least Dick had been pleasantly un-dickish. I guess there was one thing to be grateful to Jack for.
Tovah and I barely spoke as we tried to keep up with drink orders. The music was pounding, the lights were low, and I was sweating through my bra. Since it was a Friday night, The Stacks had become Club Stacks: people grinding between tables and on tables. The bar itself was the only no go zone, although I’d had to kick at least three girls from the dance team off the table, and it was only 11 p.m. We didn’t shut down on the weekends until 2.
“It’s going to be a long fucking night,” I muttered .
“I’ll say,” Tovah said, bumping shoulders with me. “At least The Weiner has been absent.”
“Or he’s shrank so small, no one can see him,” I said.
Tovah giggled. “It is cold out.”
I laughed, too. For a moment, one almost-perfect moment, I felt free.
And then the door to the bar opened, and that freedom died a swift death.
There stood Judah, Levi, Isaac, and some other members of the team I unfortunately recognized from the other night. Bile filled my mouth, and I forced myself to swallow it down.
Only for it come back up when Jack followed them through the door, wearing a backwards baseball cap, his arm slung around some girl’s neck. She was thin, with straight brown hair and blue eyes. She was beautiful. And even though I rarely disliked my body, in that moment, I felt self conscious about my size, my shape, my hair that had frizzed from work and sweat, my scar.
I blinked.
Then I blinked again.
Maybe if I kept blinking, the tears that threatened to spill would recede entirely.
Seeing Jack with her hurt, and I hated how much it hurt.
“Aviva,” Tovah said gently.
“I’m fine,” I said automatically. “It’s fine. He’s inconsequential.”
“You are fine, and it is fine, because this is a good thing. He’s moving on from fucking with you to fucking with someone else. Halle-fucking-lujah,” she said.
“Halle-fucking-lujah,” I mimicked, but I didn’t feel it.
“I can ask Alex to kick them out.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way we get away with that. Rejecting the hockey champs will definitely bring Dick out here, no matter how he feels about Jack.”
Alex glanced over at me as he scanned their IDs.
You okay? he mouthed.
I nodded.
Even though my gut cramped at the sight of Jack guiding the pretty brunette through the bar, his hand on her lower back, and her turning to smile up at him, stroking her hand down his cheek.
“Aviva. Hey.”
Dave Lawson greeted me with a hand tentatively raised.
Shit.
I’d been looking for him, been trying to get his attention. It had worked, but it was happening at the absolute worst time. Even though Jack was with someone new, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t notice me talking to his goalie.
“You know my name…and I guess other stuff, but I don’t know yours. Doesn’t seem fair,” I lied, looking at him from under my eyelashes. I of course knew his name; I’d studied the entire team before I’d transferred, plus Asher had talked about him in the past.
He ran a hand through his hair, seeming bashful, then held it out. “Dave.”
“Aviva.”
He chuckled. “We both knew that though, right? I heard you’ve been looking for me.”
“Where’d you hear that?” I switched tactics. “And what do you want to drink?”
“Coors.”
I pulled the draft, making sure to smile at him.
“My friends told me you were looking for me, for one thing. For another, well,” he scratched his head. “You wore my jersey to the hockey game. ”
“Are you sure that was me?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Pretty sure. And I had the bruise on my forehead to prove it.”
I winced. “Sorry about that.”
He waved it off. “Occupational hazard. Look,” he lowered his voice. “I assume you were looking for me because of what happened at the hockey house.”
That was not why I’d been looking at him, but I nodded.
He inhaled. “Okay. Right. Well, I wanted to find you, but I know Feldman would have my head if I tracked you down when you were alone. Hell, he might have my head for talking to you, period.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack take a seat at one of the booths before pulling the girl onto his lap.
“I somehow doubt that.”
Dave shrugged. “Anyway, I wanted to apologize for the…other night. I should never have participated, I just didn’t know the—” he blanched, “—details.”
I interrupted him. “Please don’t mention that here.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. Still, I wanted to apologize. There’s no excuse for what any of us did.”
My shoulders relaxed. I hadn’t even realized they’d gone stiff. It was refreshing, hearing a guy apologize so easily. Yes, Jack had said sorry, but only after he’d almost destroyed me. Dave was only a bystander, and yet here he was, taking accountability for his actions and everything.
“There wasn’t. Thank you for acknowledging it.” This time, my smile was genuine. Lowering my voice—not that it was necessary based on the din of the bar—I asked, “Do you know if anyone took photos or…”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not. Before we all showed up, Jack warned us we’d be off the team if we documented a single thing. You’re safe, Aviva.” He rolled his eyes. “ Well, I guess I can’t say that what with the way Jack has locked onto you. But your naked body won’t be leaked online.”
His ears turned red at his own words. It was almost cute. I should’ve found it cute, even attractive, but unfortunately I was only attracted to one person, who got off on making me miserable. And I couldn’t even blame Stockholm Syndrome for my feelings about Jack, because Stockholm Syndrome wasn’t real.
I focused on Dave. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that,” I said, handing him his beer.
He put up a hand. “Don’t mention it.”
Okay, one thing handled. Now I needed to get close enough to him to find out what he knew about Coach Jensen. And if there was a part of me that felt disloyal to Jack? Well, his presence across the room proved how pathetic that was.
As we talked, I paused the conversation to take orders from other students, swipe their credit cards, and pass them their drinks. It made for a slightly awkward conversation, but Dave didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Still, “Did you know that your coach was abusing my brother, and is that why you stopped talking to him,” wasn’t really something I wanted to ask in public.
As I pondered over how best to approach it, Dave cleared his throat.
“Listen,” he said. “I shouldn’t ask this, but do you want to maybe hang out sometime? I know that’s presumptuous, but I swear I’m a good guy and you seem like you could use a good guy in your life.”
I froze, almost dropping the drink in my hand. Dave caught it and set it down.
“I know you were with Jack. And I know he might kill me for this. But I like you, Aviva. You interest me. And not only because you’re a knockout. There aren’t a lot of people who could’ve gone through what he—what we —put you through, and still served me a drink after with their head held high. Let me buy you a coffee or lunch or something one day. Yeah?”
Here it was. My chance. Get to know Dave, tell him I was Asher’s sister, see what he knew and if he’d be willing to help. He seemed like a good guy, but?—
—but it felt disloyal to Jack. God, Stockholm Syndome might not be real, but it had me tight in its fictitious grip, regardless.
Dave watched me. “Is it about Jack? Because I can back down…”
I shook my head.
“He’s with a new girl now,” I told Dave, the words sticking in my throat. “Unless he’s the type to not like when other men play with his discarded—” I winced at my next word, “—toys, he’s not going to care if you make a move on me.”
Dave raised his eyebrows. “Usually I’d say that Jack wouldn’t give a shit about his discarded ‘toys’, but everything about how he treats you is different than he’s treated anyone else.” He straightened. “I don’t care, though. Jack doesn’t control either of our lives. Let’s do it.”
I was in.
I felt sick.
“I guess you can have my number…” I rolled my eyes.
He grinned. “You really are cute. Hand me your phone.”
I slipped it out of my pocket and handed it to him?—
—only for it to be intercepted by a big, familiar hand. I knew the veins on that hand, the short, round nails, the slight discoloration of the pinky—probably from being slammed into the boards the wrong way during a game.
I looked up at Jack. He loomed over us, his hand wrapped around my phone. His muscles had swelled beneath his t-shirt. His hat was gone. Probably on the brunette’s head. His jaw ticked.
“Lawson.”
Dave twisted to look at my tormentor. “Jack. I believe that phone was meant for me.”
“Did nobody ever tell you about not poaching?”
Dave drew himself up to his full height—which was still a few inches shorter than Jack. “It’s only poaching when the person in question doesn’t want to be poached.”
Jack glared, moving in closer to Dave, and I considered turning the soda siphon on him.
Instead, I tried to placate him. “Jack.”
Jack raised his hand, still holding my phone. “Not now, Aviva. I’ll deal with you after.” He lowered his voice, but if anything, that made his warning to Dave even clearer. “You don’t want to test me, goalie.”
The threat must have pissed Dave off, because he turned to me, winked, then turned back to Jack. “Feldman, didn’t you ever learn how to share? You seemed like you understood that concept the other night.”
The punch came so fast, I almost missed it. But the crunch of Dave’s nose against Jack’s fist was unmistakable. So were the screams.
Jack shook out his hand. Blood dripped from his knuckles, and from Dave’s face.
“What the hell is wrong with you? How the hell are you going to punch your own goalie?!” I yelled, and this time, I did spray him down with the soda siphon, turning his gray t- shirt darker. It matched his eyes at the moment, which had also darkened with anger.
He didn’t even flinch at the spray. “You’re taking a break, Aviva.”
I continued dousing him with water. “No, I’m fucking not. You’re leaving, and Dave is pressing charges.”
Dave turned to me. His face was a mess, blood everywhere. “I’m not,” he tried to say. “I knew this would happen. My own fault.”
“You. Don’t. Talk. To. Her. Or the next punch will take out your teeth.” Jack’s growl set off some sick, Pavlovian response in me, because my thighs clenched.
“Alex!” I yelled. “Fight!”
Alex pushed up from his stool and made his way over to us. The wrestler grimaced when he saw Dave’s face.
“Feldman, you’re done. Get the hell out of here.”
Jack shook his head. “Or what?”
“Or I call the police.”
“You know the police won’t do shit to me. Still, I’ll leave. Party’s getting stale.” He patted his wet t-shirt, then glanced down at his hand. “Oh right, I’m taking this phone with me. It’s mine. ”
The stress on the word mine was obvious.
“Jack, I need my phone!” I told him.
He shook his head. “I think this is my phone.”
And then he was walking through the bar, nodding to his friends. They rose. So did the pretty brunette, wearing Jack’s hat like I’d thought. She glared at me, before following Jack out the door. He pulled her toward him, and I watched, rage filling me with fire, heart in my throat, as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.
I looked away. I didn’t need to see that. Instead I focused on Dave, locating a clean towel and pressing it to his face .
“I’m not going to press charges,” he tried to tell me, but it was hard to understand him with the broken nose. “Wouldn’t do anything, anyway. Jack’s teflon. Even if the police wouldn’t cover it up for him, his brothers would make sure nothing happened to him.” He scoffed. “And Coach would be right there with them.”
“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” I asked.
“Nah, Matt will take me,” he said, gesturing at one of the guys who’d come in with Jack, and was the only one still in the bar. “See you around, Aviva.”
With that, he waved and walked out of the bar. He was shockingly blasé for someone who’d just been punched in the face, but I guess he was a hockey player. Even if goalies usually weren’t the ones in fights, it didn’t mean he hadn’t seen a skirmish or two. Asher had certainly seen his fair share.
I took a deep breath.
“Tovah?”
She appeared next to me. “Are you okay?”
“I need to?—”
“Take five. Of course. Take a break, I’ve got it.”
I looked at the packed bar. “You sure?”
She waved me off. “You need it. Alex can help me.”
Alex was already rolling up his sleeves as he headed behind the bar.
“Go,” he told me.
I needed air, and the hallway wouldn’t do it. Instead, I went out the back door to the alley. The chill October air was the relief I needed. I hadn’t realized how overheated I was until this moment.
Leaning against the door, I inhaled, rubbing my hands over my face. My face felt sticky. When I pulled my hands away, I noticed dark drops on my thumb .
Great. I’d gotten some of Dave’s blood on me. It felt metaphorically apt, since I felt partially responsible for him getting punched. I’d really thought that Jack flaunting another woman in front of my face meant he was done with me, for good. I was an idiot. Of course he wasn’t going to let go of me that easily. I was his target, nothing more. He wasn’t going to let me live my own damn life.
And I needed my phone back. Which would require tracking him down.
Exhausted, I shut my eyes for a moment.
“Is it safe to be out here alone at night?”
My eyes popped open. Jack loomed over me, blocking out whatever light filtered in from the street lamps.
“It was ,” I said.
He laughed. “Fair.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Figured you’d want your phone.”
I held my hand out for it, but instead of handing it to me, he grabbed me around the throat. He didn’t squeeze, but like that first time, the threat was there.
“You don’t talk to other men, Aviva. You certainly don’t flirt with them. Especially if they’re my teammates.”
I shut my eyes. It was easier if I didn’t look at him. It was too easy to get lost in his gray eyes. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.”
“Oh, princess. You’re mistaken if you think that stopped.”
“You found a new girl, you don’t need to torture me. She can suck your dick from now on.”
“Open your eyes, Aviva.”
I didn’t.
He squeezed. It was so slight, but it was enough. I opened my eyes .
“Let me get this through that beautiful little head. If I find out you’ve flirted with another man, I will lock you up in my basement and throw away the goddamned key. And him? They’ll never find his body. Do you want that on your conscience, princess?”
I swallowed against his hand. He released my neck slightly, lifting his thumb to stroke my pulse point. It immediately took me back to that morning in his room, when he’d untied me and kissed my wrists. It would be so easy to get lost in him, but that was madness. He didn’t give a shit about me. I was a sick game to him. Even if he was obsessed with me, even if he was messing around with another girl to fuck with my head, it didn’t matter. I needed to keep my head around him from now on.
“Jack, for the last time, I’m not yours.”
“You’re still mine, Aviva. You really think that changed because I found someone new?”
I glared at him. “I hate you.”
“You don’t hate me. If you did, you wouldn’t be so jealous.”
He leaned in, like he was going to kiss me, and even though I hated myself for it, I craved the feeling of his lips on mine.
Except he paused a centimeter away, whispering, “Too bad I can’t say the same.”
I snorted. “What was that with Dave earlier, if not jealousy? What’s all this ‘mine’ business, if not trying to claim what you think is your territory?”
He laughed, stepping away and releasing me. He’d been giving off so much heat, I’d forgotten it was cold out. “I’m not jealous. I just like making your life hell.” He handed me my phone. “I’d keep this, but you’ll need it to get home safe. And I’m nothing if not generous. ”
With that, he sauntered out of the alley, leaving me there in the dark and the cold, forced to face a painful realization. So painful, it was like being stabbed with the serrated edge of a bread knife. I wanted to sink to the ground over what I’d learned.
It didn’t matter what Jack had said to me the night after the hockey game, when he’d paddled me with his stick and then taken whatever innocence I had left for himself. He claimed to hate lies but he was a hypocrite.
I’m yours, he’d said.
It was a lie.
Because I might’ve been Jack’s, but he’d made one thing absolutely clear tonight:
He wasn’t mine.