18. Safety In Numbers
Safety In Numbers
Jamie
G ame night is full of spoken and unspoken rituals.
Hockey players are superstitious creatures, and we all have our personal good luck traditions.
Some, like my redoing the tape around my hockey stick, are quiet and performed without annoying the fuck out of my teammates.
Others are downright obnoxious, like Tucker’s lucky underwear. Our goalie is strutting around the locker room in the aforementioned garment, and I have to pinch my nose when he walks by the bench where I’m sitting.
“Dude.” I gasp. “That fucking pair of boxers stinks worse than all of our items combined after a game. Can you stay away from me before I lose my pre-game snack on the locker room floor?”
Of course, Tucker is completely undeterred, and he stops right in front of me with his hands on his hips.
“What you’re smelling is the scent of sweet, sweet victory, my friend. We’re on a winning streak, and you have to thank my lucky pants, among other things.”
I roll my eyes. “How do exactly your stinky pants contribute to victory?” I provoke him, even though we all know the story.
“You can berate my lucky boxers as much as you want, Jamie. But may I remind you that our team sucked ass until that day freshman year when I woke up with the hangover from hell at the Zeta house? I had had an epic hookup with a senior, and vodka had been flowing. I woke up too late to come home to change, and I had to rush to the arena, but I couldn’t find my underwear… ”
“When you got here, Coach told you that our starting goalie, Cash Hanbury, had pulled his groin and was out of commission, so you were starting.” Corey supplies, as if Tucker needed help to tell the story.
Shane finishes for him. “Your only choice was either going commando or using a pair of pants you had forgotten in your locker from the week before. You wore unwashed pants, and we won with a shutout.”
“That year we went all the way and won the Frozen Four, too.” Tucker finishes, slapping Shane on the back. “And do you want to know why? Because every week, whether I or Cash tended the goal, I wore this very pair of boxers. Unwashed.”
Keene’s nose twists with displeasure when Tucker starts putting on his uniform and protective gear by his locker. He was the last addition to our team last summer, so he had the misfortune of being Tucker’s locker neighbor.
“I have a couple of questions about all that.” Keene says.
Tucker pulls up his shorts, then sits down to lace up his skates. “Ask away; I’m an open book.”
“First off, those pants mustn’t have all the juju you give them credit for. Two years ago you might have won the championship, but last year you didn’t even make the playoffs.”
Yeah, last year was a complete shitshow.
“My pants are lucky, but they can’t take responsibility for other people’s lack of commitment to their own good luck rituals.
You just joined us in the summer, but you must have heard that last year we had major problems with one of our centers.
The vibe in the locker room was tense. We fought each other on the ice more than we fought our opponents. ”
Tucker’s words are met with a collective groan. Last year was a train wreck; we had really lost our way as a team.
“Fine,” Keene concedes. “But even taking that into account, have you thought that maybe your good luck charm wasn’t the unwashed pants? What if what brought you and the team luck was that you drank vodka the night before the game? Or that you hooked up?”
Tucker’s eyes widen as he considers Keene’s point.
“No.” He finally decides, shaking his head vigorously. “It’s the pants. I know it. I can feel it in my loins.”
“In your loins?” Keene snickers. “Are you sure it isn’t crabs? Since those pants haven’t been washed in two years, if my math is correct?”
The locker room door opens, and one of the assistant coaches sticks his head in to give us the five-minute call for warm up.
People start filing out on their skate guards, leaving just me, Connor, Keene, and Luke.
“Ready, guys?” Our captain asks, his brows creased with worry.
Tonight we’re playing Bridgeport, and I’d be lying if I said that we aren’t tense to snapping points.
“Any last-minute updates from Ares?” Keene asks.
“Nothing after what I told you at lunchtime. Priestly declined to provide a DNA sample and claimed that on the night of the attack he was home, in his room with his fiancée. Aisha confirmed his alibi, and between that and the fact that my father must be running interference and using his influence with the court, the warrant has been denied.”
Connor clenches his fists. “Fucking disgusting. If that piece of shit had nothing to hide, he would have had no problem giving his DNA. He would have actually wanted to clear his name sooner rather than later.”
Keene agrees with him. “That alone screams guilty to me. That bastard doesn’t want to give his DNA because he knows he’s going to match the one found on the fabric Poonani got from defending our property.”
I nod. “Yup. And his new fiancée is probably being forced to lie about where he was. After all, she and all the other people who used to work with Bex and were her friends turned on her, the second your father told them to.”
Luke’s eyes are full of cold fury. “I know Priestly was the one who attacked Bexie and broke into the condo. The masked stalker tried to choke her. It’s the same thing that piece of shit did when he beat her the night before their wedding.”
I agree with Luke’s assessment of the situation. I don’t need a DNA test to know that Priestly is guilty.
“Yeah, it’s the same MO.” Connor bites out, voicing my thoughts.
“Well then,” Keene’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Priestly is going to be on the ice, right where we can get him and make sure he can’t hurt Bex or anyone else anymore, right? I mean, it would be hard to choke someone with two broken arms.”
Fuck.
Remind me never to piss off that guy.
Luke clasps Keene on the shoulder. “Exactly what I was thinking. But we need to be smart about it. We all know how to start a fight; let’s just make sure it isn’t so obvious.”
Connor cracks his knuckles before donning his gloves. “Let’s do what we do best. And if Priestly trips on my stick and hits the ice face first, I’ll offer him a helping hand.”
Yeah. I definitely would park my ass on the bench tonight if I were Kurt Priestly. But we’re counting on the fact that he’ll think he can beat us.
“Is Bex here with Candace and the Zetas?”
“She is.” Luke confirms. “I’m still wondering if she would have been safer at home. Knowing she’s in the same building as that psycho makes me nervous.”
I don’t blame him. We’ve debated this all week. “Priestly will be on the ice where we can keep an eye on him.” I reassure Luke. “I’d rather be able to see where Bex is too.”
Our captain sighs, the tension clear in his posture. “I know. But at the same time, since that piece of shit is here, I would like to know that Bex is tucked away somewhere safe.”
“It’s a catch twenty-two situation, the way I see it,” Connor considers. “But I’m with Jamie on this. If Bex were home, I’d be worried about her all the time. Just on the one percent chance that we’re wrong and Priestly isn’t her stalker. Here we can see her, and there’s safety in numbers.”
Keene wraps one arm around Connor’s neck and one around Luke’s, and I close the circle between them as we huddle. “Let’s bring home the victory and make sure we send Priestly a message. For Bex.”
“For Bex.” They all repeat.
Bex
The arena is packed tonight.
The games between Star Cove and Bridgeport have always been charged with a fierce rivalry. They’re the Division One team closest to us geographically, and the winning team brings home major bragging rights in addition to the points.
I’m more nervous than ever, because Kurt will be on the ice. I haven’t seen my ex since I gave myself to him the night before our wedding and he beat me until I was unconscious.
Or maybe I have seen him without knowing if Kurt is my masked stalker. It makes sense. Even with the hundreds of comments on Aisha’s posts that incited coming after me, I still think my ex is the option that makes the most sense.
“Bex, are you ok?” Candace lowers herself in the seat next to mine, passing me a huge fountain drink.
I drink some of the diet soda through the straw. “You love really huge drinks, don’t you?” I tease her.
The Zeta president winks at me. “Anyone who tells you that size doesn’t matter is a dirty little liar. And you know my motto. I’d rather have enough to last me through the game so I don’t have to leave my seat.”
I guess in this case her strategy makes more sense, since even waiting for the intermissions between periods could cause missing some of the action if the concession stands get too busy. Especially when the arena is at capacity, like tonight.
The Cove Knights arrive on the ice for their warmup, and I immediately spot Jamie and Connor.
They wave at me as they skate past our seats right next to our team’s bench. Luke catches up with them, followed by Keene, and they wave too.
“God.” Candace fans herself with a giggle. “You live with three hotties. If I were you, I’d be tempted to see who’s more skilled with his stick between the three.”
“Candace.” I laugh, my face heating up at how close to the truth she is. “You’re the worst.”
She doesn’t look embarrassed. “I’m just kidding. I know you and Jamie are serious. But a girl can dream, right?”
A girl can definitely dream.
“Jamie and I aren’t the only ones who are getting serious.” I point to her jersey. “I see you and Corey made it real official.”
Candace’s smile widens. “He took me out to breakfast this morning, and he gave me his jersey.” She turns to show me the number twenty-three on her back.
I set down my drink next to me and pull her into a hug. “Congratulations. You guys make such a cute couple.”
“I really like him.” She confides with a dreamy look in her eyes.
“We both have another year after this one. I hope that by then, he’ll want to make things more permanent.
He’s entering the draft this year, so we might have a better idea of where he’s going to go after graduation.
If he doesn’t ask me to go with him, my heart will be broken. ”
“He will.” I put all my certainty in my tone. “There’s still time, don’t worry about that for now. Not knowing if he’s gonna get drafted and where he might end up is a big deal.”
Candace nods. “I heard Jamie asked you to go to San Francisco with him next year.”
“How…” I haven’t said anything to anyone yet, except for Luke.
“Jamie told Corey. Sorry, did you want to keep it a secret?”
I shake my head. “No, you’re good. I just… I guess it didn’t sink in just yet.”
Our attention is diverted to the ice when the two teams are introduced.
I haven’t talked about my past in too much detail with the Zeta president, but my relationship with Kurt was a big deal on social media, so it’s no surprise that Candace knows.
“Is that your ex?” she points out Kurt in his number eight jersey.
It’s impossible to suppress the shudder that travels down my spine when I look at his hulking figure. “Yeah.”
“Hmm,” Candace muses. “Obviously, he wasn’t right for you if you left him on your wedding day. But I mean, he isn’t hideous to look at.”
I suppose he isn’t. But whenever I think about Kurt, all I can see is the cold, predatory look in his dark brown eyes as he crushed my airways in a viselike hold. All I can hear is the degrading things he said after letting him take what he wanted, after he used my body for his own pleasure.
“He’s… Kurt isn’t a good person.” That's all I can say as I look away.
My gaze bounces around the arena, and I spot Aisha sitting just opposite us, next to the Tigers’ bench. She’s in the black and gold Bridgeport jersey; no doubt she’s wearing Kurt’s number eight.
“That’s his new fiancée, right?” Candace asks, noticing that I’m staring.
“Yeah.” I keep my tone as neutral as possible.
Candace lowers her voice. “Didn’t you all live in that huge hype house? If I remember correctly, you and Aisha did a few collabs. It must be weird that one of your friends is about to marry your ex.”
She’s right. Aisha was my best friend in the Pure Shine house. At least as much as friendship could develop in the cold, controlled environment fostered by my father’s rules.
Now I understand why he didn’t want us to touch each other or to hang out too much outside of what would further our brands. Keeping us isolated from each other and from any loved ones outside the house gave him more power over us.
“Yeah, it’s weird.” I say in response to Candace’s last comment. “I just hope he treats her better than he did me.”
Even though she accused me of being jealous and she blocked me when I tried to warn her about Kurt, I’ve been worried sick about Aisha.
Things can’t be too bad if she’s here supporting her man though, right?
It’s more than Dad ever allowed me to do, since I was banned from attending any hockey games. But I guess with Aisha’s participation in that popular dance reality show, my father is trying to capitalize on every chance to further their visibility and grow their star power.
I wonder if their relationship started spontaneously or if Dad arranged it like he did with me.
The truth is that I can’t see any romantic connection forming in that environment, so it must be Dad’s plan.
It’s almost like he wants Kurt to have a wife.
I don’t get why. The Bridgeport Tigers’ captain is a college senior, like me.
At twenty-one or twenty-two, he has plenty of time to get married.
Maybe there are some lucrative opportunities on the horizon that require an established couple.
One thing is certain. My father doesn’t do anything that doesn’t further his bottom line in one way or another.
So, there must be a reason why he’s been pushing for Kurt to get married.
Whatever he’s planning, though, I’m relieved that Dad isn’t here tonight.