Chapter 4
Damon
Monday at school, everything feels the same as last week. With the exception that I drove Evan to school this morning so she wouldn’t have to try to hold on. I re-bandaged her hand and looked over all the little cuts.
Between classes in the hallway, we make sure we’re with Evan. Not an issue because Cam has her in literature and I have her in calculus and history. We make sure to take notes for her since her hand still hurts.
She has a red paper flower tucked behind her ear after first period that remained there through third. As I carry her tray out into the courtyard, Hawk has his arm wrapped around her waist.
“My parents are here to stay for at least the next month.” He shakes his head. He texted us the details last night while Evan and I slept. Evan told me about them this morning. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to get away with.”
Evan blows out her breath as she sits on the bench next to me. Her left hand braces on my shoulder to help her lower down. She holds her hand with the white gauze wrapped around it up a little. “This is like waving a red flag in front of my mom. She made me breakfast this morning.”
“I doubt she actually made you breakfast,” I say.
She smirks at me. “Probably not. The staff made me breakfast. She just gave it to me.”
“Fuck, goody.” Cam sits down on the other side of Hawk. “I love it when you wear things I give you. Can I buy you more things to wear?” He gives her a cocky grin. “I mean, Damon practically dresses you every chance he gets. I’m sure some lingerie isn’t out of the question.”
Some heads turn from the table next to ours. Curious assholes. I narrow my eyes on the students, and they turn back to their own food. Fuck, sometimes I hate this school.
We’re at a table of our own, away from the other people out in the courtyard. It’s not like we wouldn’t let someone sit with us. We did last week with some teammates and even Mia. But I’m wary of letting anyone close to Evan today. Someone got to her when we were watching. Hurt her.
It’s not happening again.
Evan makes a small hissing noise and her brow furrows as she sets her hand in her lap. I noticed it in history too. Her hand hurts.
I take her pain meds from her backpack where I put them this morning and shake out a pill for her. She doesn’t want to take medicine all day, but she can take the edge off at least.
Her blue-gray eyes meet mine and she smiles softly. “Thanks.”
The rest of the courtyard is normal. Well, as normal as it can be with Olivia gone. There are rumors she’s being transferred to an elite boarding school, which means she was asked not to come back to Deimos. By making it sound like it’s voluntary, her family saves face.
Couldn’t happen to a nicer bitch. She may not get time for what she did to Keira, but at least we don’t have to deal with her. Putting that video out on social media means no one can sweep it quietly under the rug.
No one has really stepped into the vacancy as top bitch.
Her friends Megan and Gemma sneer at us and talk behind their hands, but they aren’t Olivia.
They’re still popular, but they’re not as conniving as Olivia was.
And while they hold some power, they aren’t as rich as Olivia either. They were always second best to her.
The apparent queen bees of Anteros sit a little taller, talk a little louder. Maybe they think they can fill the void. They also make sure to ignore Evan like it’s their job. Not that we even stoop to pass their table on the way to ours.
Mia sits with those girls today. Evan doesn’t seem to mind, but if it becomes a problem, if Mia becomes a problem, we’ll handle it. I still don’t trust her. If she stabs Evan in the back, Evan will have one less friend, and I’ll make sure the whole school knows what we think of Mia.
At the end of lunch, Mia comes over to claim Evan and take her to her acting seminar. I let her go reluctantly. I’d sit beside her all day if I didn’t need to keep my grades up in my other classes.
Besides, I have the tracking app open on both Evan’s ring and her phone all afternoon. It’s the next best thing to having her on a camera. Which I would prefer, but Evan insisted wireless cameras would interfere with the sound equipment in the theater room.
I don’t like any of this. Jackson hurt her. It has to be him. And if it is him, it means he isn’t working alone. We’ve been worried about him trapping her somewhere, but we never expected this. He punished her by inflicting pain.
Not knowing when and how the stalker’s going to strike next drives me nuts. It would be easier if I knew why he’s so focused on her, but I can’t figure out his motive. Why hurt her? Because of us? Assuming it’s Jackson, what’s his goal? Scare her into being with him?
Or is it just to scare her period? What kind of fucked up game is he playing?
My mind keeps twisting the puzzle around to try to find the solution.
The problem is, this could be revenge. It might not have been Jackson.
Chase could have done it, because of what we did to him.
Hawk said Chase looked genuinely concerned when he carried Evan out, but was that an act? He is an actor.
Fuck. I need eyes on her. Maybe I’ll check with my tech guy to see if he can hack the cameras in the school.
Right now, though, I have practice. That means no phone. I hate not being able to check in on Evan, but I have to focus. The towel guy, Rich, should be around here somewhere.
I nudge Cam. “Give Rich your phone to watch Evan while we’re playing.”
Cam nods and opens the apps. “I think you’re paranoid but fuck it. I’m not risking it. Not after yesterday.”
Hawk glances toward us. His face is solemn. He was there for her again when she needed someone. I’m grateful this doesn’t all fall on me, but part of me wishes I hadn’t been tied up working out. That I could have been the one to protect her and hold her when she was hurt.
Not that I could have.
It might have been a fucking disaster when Heather showed up at the urgent care. I don’t know if I would have been able to control myself. To pretend like Evan was like a sister to me. Fuck that shit.
During practice, all three of us will be on the ice. No one can protect Evan if she needs us. It’s a prime opportunity for whoever is after her. I run a hand through my hair and lock up my phone. But Rich will let us know if she moves outside the Anteros hallway.
As I make my way to the ice, Coach stops me.
“Storm, talk to me.” He pulls me aside and jerks his head across the ice where some guys sit in the stands. “There’s a coach who’s interested in talking to you after practice. Show them what you’re made of today, yeah?”
He claps me on the shoulder.
“Yes, Coach.” I take the ice for warm-ups and glance over at the men watching.
He didn’t say what school they’re from, but Crowne Mawr isn’t far away.
The Yale coach was in town this weekend though, so maybe it’s him.
Either way, I’ll do what I’ve trained for years to do. Impress the fuck out of them.
I turn off all the extra shit going on and concentrate on the ice, my stick, the skates, and the puck. This is my future and I’m going to play like it’s for keeps.
My hair is still wet from my shower when I pull out my phone again and check on Evan. The ring and phone are still together in the black box theater room. Good.
“Don’t worry. I’m heading there now.” Cam grabs his backpack from his locker and claps me on the shoulder. “Let me know how it goes.”
I nod and drop my phone into my pocket before grabbing my bags and heading to Coach’s office. Laughter carries into the hallway from the office as I approach the open door.
Coach grins when he sees me and gestures me in. “There he is.”
I walk in and drop my stuff beside the door before turning to greet the man sitting in what’s affectionately known as Coach’s hot seat.
If you’re sitting in it, you’re usually in trouble.
When he stands and meets my eyes, this man needs no introductions.
He was a legend in the NHL before he retired.
He’s also the current coach at Crowne Mawr.
Andrew Mitchell offers me his hand. “Damon Storm.”
“Coach Mitchell.” I try not to go all fanboy on him, but it just slips out. “That goal in 2015 for the Cup runs on repeat in my brain when I’m trying to bring in the puck. Your career is what I aspire to.”
He grins and releases my hand. “Good, because I know you’ve probably got recruiters coming out of your ass trying to get you to come play for them. I’ll use whatever leverage I can get.”
Before the accident and injury, I had plenty of interest in my career. I had a plan for my future. When I glance at Coach, he leans back in his chair and puts his hands over his stomach with a satisfied smile. Apparently, he’s taking a backseat on this one.
If Andrew knows I don’t have a lot of options, it wouldn’t put me in a great negotiating position.
“Maybe.” Part of me doesn’t want to admit it will be a struggle now.
I would have had more options if I’d attended the USHL like I was supposed to.
Options that might have included a contract for an NHL team.
Last year, Crowne Mawr never would have been a contender.
We were talking with quite a few recruiters unofficially, but knowing I was in an accident and had injured my leg made them leery.
If I’d still attended the USHL, I could have shown them I healed, but Dad didn’t want me to go.
Which made it seem like the leg was going to be more of an issue than it is.
“Let’s talk.” Andrew smiles and offers me the seat next to him.
I perch on its edge, too anxious to relax. My knee bounces a couple times before I force it to settle. Crowne Mawr is Cam’s school.
Last year this wouldn’t have been an option, but I also didn’t have Evan, Cam, and Hawk to think about.
If this is a real opportunity, it could work for all of us.
It wasn’t on Evan’s list of places she’d already applied to, but she mentioned it to my dad as a potential.
And it’s not a party school, even though Cam claims it is.
It’s a well-known school with a rigorous curriculum for Hawk.
“I recently took over coaching the hockey team at Crowne Mawr.” Andrew gives me a cocky grin. “I know we’re fresh on the D1 scene, but we’re doing our best to compete with the big dogs. We’re building a team to get us trophies and impress the NHL with our talent.”
I straighten and keep my expression pleasant. “My coach thought your scouts might come to some games this season.”
But that he came to practice to see me, that’s a fucking honor.
“And we will, but there are some players we want to look at first, before they make their commitments.” Andrew gives me a look like I’m going to have multiple offers coming in.
Last year I would have. Now, I’m not so sure. Deimos isn’t a boarding school that usually gets hockey recruiters to come to it. Other sports, yes. And while our team is good, I’m definitely an outlier when it comes to the sport. We get a lot of recruiters from D2 schools though.
But that’s not what I want.
“We’ve set up an invitation week for a few players to come and try out for the team before the season begins.
See how you interact with our current players and each other.
” Andrew leans forward. “I know this is last minute for you, but when I found out you hadn’t committed anywhere, I came to invite you personally.
I want to start next year right. I’ve got players who will help us make waves this year, but I need to continue to develop fresh talent if I want to stay at the top. ”
Before this year, I could have gone to any number of colleges to sit on their bench for a year before having an opportunity to really play.
I would have gotten ice time, but during games, it would have been short and far between.
I don’t know if Crowne Mawr will be settling, but if it is, I want something from it.
“What kind of playing time do you offer your freshmen?” I have nothing to lose by asking.
He smirks. “Honestly, I don’t play by the old rules. If you want to fight to start as a freshman, I’m all for it. I want to build a team that can crush the competition. I don’t want seniors pulling rank on my new players. I want everyone to try their hardest to be the best.”
Satisfied with the answer, I say, “What are we looking at?”