Chapter 4
Carter
I’m always late to class, but I’m not rushing today.
They sent out a notice that our teacher was being substituted through the end of the semester due to an emergency. Being the mayor’s son and a member of the local fire department, I found that out before the rest of the class.
Professor Grant had a minor stroke. The old man should’ve retired years ago, and it’s questionable if he can ever return to work, but he loves teaching.
Coach Higgins, the new head coach for the women’s hockey team, agreed to step in. He taught a similar class at the last university he came from. I get all the inside information. Not only is my dad the mayor, but he’s also a member of the board at Drexton Hall. Barely a member. They gave him a spot because he’s an alumnus and they felt like they had to once he became the Mayor.
He has no pull or say in what happens at the school, but he acts like he makes all the decisions.
Apparently, I didn’t get as much information as I thought. I rush through the door to find my seat and do a double take at the new professor, Coach Higgins. I never paid attention to him, but that’s Coach Jonah Higgins, and the only reason I know his first name is because his wife was yelling it while he chased me around the motel room with my pants around my ankles.
Fuck, I can’t fail this class.
My hood is up and the professor hasn’t picked his head up from the screen he”s looking at yet. I find the first empty seat, slump down and shuffle in closer from the aisle to get covered by the guy in front of me.
Professor Dickweed tried to find out who I was after the incident to file a complaint. He got word I was a paramedic and contacted the fire department, but all he did was piss off my superiors and give the guys something else to razz me about. They couldn’t reprimand me for something I was doing while off duty that technically didn’t hurt anyone. I count the single lucky star I have that his wife never gave up my name. The squad and all the locals are loyal to me, so I was never worried he’d find out. Until now.
If he sees my face, he’ll know.
I need this class to graduate and it’s too late to switch out or withdraw.
“What are you doing?” Willa snaps in a hushed whisper next to me.
I move my seat so close that our legs brush. She shuffles hers further away as Professor Higgins introduces himself.
“Move over more.” I shuffle closer to get as hidden as possible. I’m not trying to get closer to Willa, but I can’t let him see me.
“Do you mind?” she hisses, glaring daggers at me.
“Scooch in.” I get as close as I can with my leg right up against hers to get her as uncomfortable as possible.
“No.” To my surprise, she slides closer to me to move her seat back to where it started. “I won’t be able to see.”
“Ms. Tomlin,” the professor calls out. “Is there a problem?”
“No.” She nods and smiles as I duck my head down, pretending to pick something up from the floor. Her face turns a deep red once he continues introducing himself and going over his credentials.
“Oh, I see.” I fix my hood and lean on my hand to look at Willa and keep my face out of view from the front. “You have the hots for our new professor.”
“Shh,” she shushes me. “I do not. Why are you hiding?”
“Because I had sex with his wife.”
Her face whips around to look at me. The short blonde strands fly around her head with her bright blue eyes bugging out from between them.
“Shh.” I press my finger to my lips for her to keep quiet.
I didn’t even know the woman was married. How was I supposed to know the guy would turn out to be my professor? No one could foresee this.
Professor Dickweed goes on and on about himself for most of the class, and I’m surprised I don’t fall asleep.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have access yet to update the portal. I printed out all my information and an update to the assignment. Please come and take one on your way out.”
Shit. I’m not sure how I’m going to pull off getting one of those without him seeing me.
Willa shakes her head at me, but if I beg her, she may let me copy hers. I hide between the mill of students to get out into the hall and wait off to the side for her to come out.
She stops at his desk and is talking to him for a while. He’s her coach, but she definitely has a little crush on him. He’s her type, too. Tall, dark hair, and dark eyes. Similar features to Vic, and coincidentally, myself. It’s also probably why his wife chose me to get back at him.
Professor Jonah Higgins looks young and fit. He probably has most of the female students pining over him.
Willa stops in front of me when she finally comes out and slaps a piece of paper to my chest.
“You got me one?” I grin at her, but she rolls her eyes.
“Don’t sit next to me. I don’t want to be associated with you when he finds out.” She stomps away. Willa doesn’t walk. She stomps with a purpose and determination.
I jog to catch up with her. “Thanks.”
“Please don’t mention it. I don’t want to be an accomplice.”
Unfortunately for her, we’re both on our lunch break. I follow her to the dining hall and slide in line behind her. It’s early for lunch, and the dining hall is never packed around this time. I’ve seen Willa eating here by herself a few times. Sometimes Vic is with her.
“Why do they call it Taco Tuesday when they don’t serve tacos?” I look up at the daily menu that has two items listed; chicken or steak burritos.
She checks her phone, looking at an unanswered message thread with her boyfriend, Vic.
“Those are burritos. It’s a taco sin to call it anything else.” I keep talking even if she’s ignoring me. “There’s no day that starts with a B, but then they should have a taco option.” The dining hall has other options, but the specialty section that changes every day doesn’t give too many options to customize. “If I take out the rice, the tortilla will be too big.”
She glares up at me and back to her phone, texting again and completely unamused by my conversation starter.
“These aren’t much of a burrito anyway.” I lean into her ear after she orders hers.
“I don’t care.” She jumps away from me.
After talking to the guy and getting my taco-rito, I see Willa sitting alone. She keeps playing with her phone, looking more and more upset. There’s something going on between her and Vic, and I shouldn’t care. I should walk away, but she did help me out. It’d be nice to repay her in some way.
“How’s your taco-rito?” I get comfortable in the chair across from her.
That look she’s giving me could push me through the wall. I feel it like a jacked 6’3” hockey player with twenty pounds worth of pads smacking into my chest.
“You don’t like the name I came up with?” I place my hand over my heart as if I’m hurt. “I thought it was a good one.”
She takes a huge bite of her burrito. The rice falls out the other end as she tries to hold it together. Juices from the meat mixed with salsa and sour cream squirt out at the corners of her mouth as she chews.
“That’s attractive,” I tease her with a wink to let her know I’m only kidding. “I can’t see why Vic wouldn’t want to meet you for lunch.”
“If you must know,” more rice flies out of her mouth onto the table before she swallows and wipes the sauce off her chin with a napkin, “we got into a fight last night.”
“You broke up with him? Finally.” There’s not a chance she did, and sure enough, the perpetual glare she has toward me deepens.
“Just because we fought, doesn’t mean we broke up.” She frowns, glancing at her unanswered phone.
“Tex-Mex Tuesdays,” I shout. “That’s what they should call it.”
She shakes her head with a silent laugh, swallowing back another impressively huge bite of the burrito.
“Tex-Mex Tuesdays offering taco-ritos.” I smile proudly at my revelation.
“You’re ridiculous.” She cleans her face with the same napkin. “What do you really want? Why are you sitting with me?”
“I’m bored.” I shrug.
The last thing she needs to hear is that I’m sitting with her because her depressed loneliness is pathetic enough for me to notice.
“Is that why you slept with Coach Higgins’ wife?” She smirks smugly. “Because you were bored.”
There she goes, assuming the worst of me, yet again. It’s best she knows how bad I really am, but I can’t help defending myself. If I had slept with my professor’s wife knowingly, I’d own up to it.
“I had no idea she was married,” I sputter with my mouth full. “She set it all up.”
“Right.” Willa rolls her eyes. “She didn’t tell you she was married. Lured you to her home—”
“A motel room,” I correct her.
“A motel room.” She rolls her eyes again. “Had sex with you, then what? Told you she was married to the women’s hockey team head coach and your professor?”
“No.” I roll my eyes dramatically to mimic her. “She fucked me in her motel room, gave her husband the key, and timed it so he’d walk in while my cock was inside her pussy.”
Willa winces. “I hate that word. And that’s a bit far-fetched, don’t you think?”
I don’t justify that with a response. She can believe me if she wants to.
“He’ll see your name on the roster.”
“He never got my name,” I mutter into my food.
“You can’t hide from him for the rest of the semester.”
“I’m hoping enough time will pass that he’ll forget. Or there’s always the option to wear disguises.” I joke, but don’t get a laugh out of her.
“Coach Higgins is a nice guy. If you have a talk with him, I’m sure he’d understand.”
Getting angry, I toss the rest of my burrito onto the table. “The guy came after me without letting me try to explain.”
“I’m sure he was angry–”
“Then he tried to find out my name to get me in trouble, even after I helped save his life.” I lean across the table to get in her face. “You think he’s a nice guy, the same way you think Vic is. You think I’m worse because I don’t hide who I am.” She sits up and gathers her trash to not leave it behind. “They’re just like me. Only if I truly loved someone, I’d never betray them. I wouldn’t ignore their texts and calls. I’d never disappear on them at a party to fuck another girl, and I’d never neglect them so much that they’d go looking for someone else to get off on. Don’t pass that judgment on me.”
I grab the clean napkin on the table at the same time she does and hold it to stop her from leaving and get her attention.
“If I was in love, that person would be my entire world. I’d do anything to support and respect them. She’d never have any doubts.”
“You’re an asshole.” Her chair scrapes the floor as she stands to leave and storms out.
I’d rather be branded an asshole than treat someone the way Willa is being treated. I’d rather never be in a relationship and fuck all the married women if it meant I wasn’t the one hurting them enough to seek revenge on.
I’d rather they all stay away from me, so I don’t turn out to be just like my father.
It’s better to be alone.
O’Halloran’s Pub is a shitty local bar that doesn’t ID any of the guys on the team.
Everyone turns a blind eye once the semester starts and the hockey boys of Drexton Hall are back in town. Braydon would never be allowed in here during the summer.
The bartender offers me a free shot with my beer. I turn it down and notice several empty shot glasses on Braydon’s table. He has his arm wrapped around a girl from Drexton, a few years older than him, whispering in her ear with a seductive smirk.
“He looks like you,” Gentry elbows my arm resting on the bar after following my gaze.
We pulled out a tough win in our game and came here to celebrate.
“I wasn’t that bad as a freshman.” I shake my head.
Shawn Gentry is a year younger than me and still a junior. He came to the team while I was a sophomore, and quickly became the only teammate I could tolerate. He’s private, like me, and doesn’t air all his shit to anyone that listens. I know very little about his home life and I prefer that.
He takes the shot I left on the bar and shrugs. “My girl just texted me. I’m going to head out soon to meet up with her.”
I almost ask what girl, but I don’t care.
Braydon’s girlfriend walks up and he immediately takes his hands off the woman next to him. Holly sits on his lap and kisses him. She works here as a waitress and all the locals know they’re together, but that puck bunny he’s been hanging on isn’t a local and doesn’t care if he’s taken.
“Lighten up, man.” Gentry nudges me again. “Nothing is going to happen with his girlfriend here. He’s all talk and a flirt. Don’t let it ruin your night.”
I take a deep breath to relax. I shouldn’t let it get to me, but it does.
What would Janisa think if she knew I stood back and watched our little brother messing around the way he is?
“Find a woman to let off some steam with,” Gentry suggests. “I haven’t seen you with anyone in a while.”
It’s because I moved into the hockey house this year, and can’t get any privacy from my roommate.
“Maybe.” I shrug.
As soon as Holly goes back to work, Braydon leans into the woman to continue setting up his hook up for the night.
“You good? I’m going to head out.”
“Yeah.” I ignore Gentry and push off the bar to have a word with my little brother.
“Carter.” He holds my shoulder back. “Come on, don’t start shit tonight.” I shake him off and keep going. “He’s been drinking. It’s not worth it.”
This is a family problem, and it doesn’t concern Shawn fucking Gentry.
“Bray.” I lean between a couple of other freshmen on our team to get to him.
“Carter, come on.” Gentry tries again, but I shake his hand off me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I eye the puck bunny that gives me a long once over. “Did you forget Holly is right fucking there?”
The guys on my side of the table back away to give me room.
“I’m not doing anything.” Braydon grins at me. “At least I don’t fuck married women.”
He thinks he has me, but I don’t care.
“You think you’re untouchable,” I say, leaning down to get closer so that no one else will hear what I say. “You’re just like him. A fucking weak ass prick that prays on innocent women.”
Braydon’s mouth tightens in a straight line. His jaw ticks, and his hazel eyes pierce into me. They’re the same color as our mom’s and only a smidge lighter than Janisa’s.
“All you”re missing is a punching bag.” I pound on my chest and raise my arms out. “Take your shot, Bray.”
“Fuck you.” He stands abruptly, knocking over his chair.
Hands from our teammates grab his arms to hold him back from coming after me, while a few grab mine to drag me away.
“Come on, Braydon!” I shout through the bar as I’m being forced back. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“You’re a shithead, Carter,” he shouts back at me.
“You just had to start shit with him.” Creed grunts as he pulls me out of the bar with the help of Gentry. “Get your ass home and sleep it off.”
He’d been sitting at the end of the bar, watching over everyone on the team to keep anyone from getting into trouble.
“Fuck this.” I shake them both off and head for my car.
“Carter, come on man. Where are you going?” Gentry calls after me, but I quickly get in and peel out of the parking lot.
I need to do something to take the edge off, and it looks like I won’t get to fight my brother tonight.
The hockey house will be overcrowded with guys celebrating our win, and I don’t want to deal with that either. I’m too far gone to find someone to stick my dick in, and I’ll wind up hurting someone. I’m so wound up, I won’t be able to control myself.
Without thinking much about it, I wind up at my parents” house. Dad’s car is gone. I bet he and mom are at some function for his job. There’s always something they need to attend and miss our games for.
I break into his home office surrounded by dark stained oak walls and shelves covered in law books. The musky scent of his cologne and cigars fill my nostrils to make me gag, but I quickly open the hidden cabinet beneath the first shelf that blends in with the paneling on the wall.
I grab what I can, not sure of how much time I have. Four bottles should be enough. More than enough for him to notice.
It’s late by the time I get to the park. I haven’t done this since high school. Back when I was a virgin, and before I found other ways to release my anger.
I sit on the hood of my SUV, looking up at the statue of my legacy. A young Terrance Pierce. The son of Briar Creek Valley in his glory days as a starter on the Drexton Hall Huskies. A forward that made it to the minors only to be cut for what I’d guess is a womanizing alcoholic.
He says he chose to leave to start a family with the love of his life. I know better than to believe that shit.
Opening the premium scotch first, I take a whiff. Disgusting. I inject the fluid down my throat in a shot from the bottle, letting some trickle out down my chin and onto my shirt.
The stench of it reminds me of him.
I wind back and toss the rest of the bottle up. Amber liquid spills out in an arch, and the bottle shatters against his golden helmet.
Next is the vodka. The taste isn’t any better, and I choke on the sting in my throat. Boom, right in his face against the tip of his sharp nose.
The tequila I can tolerate, and save that for last.
After the whiskey breaks against his shoulder pad, I chug the tequila down. Not too much that I can’t drive home after, but enough to take the edge off. I should’ve brought beer as a chaser.
I toss the bottle up, but this one flies over his head and lands on the grass without breaking. In a fit of rage, I pick the bottle up and slam it down against the edge of his golden hockey stick. My eyes close as the glass shatters up at me, and the tiny pieces that pelt my skin barely give me a scratch.
It’d be so easy.
My hands shake with the neck of the bottle and the long shard coming from it.
One cut and it’ll all be over.
I can’t do it.
Who will be next if I’m gone?
“Toughen up,” I grit out between my teeth to no one.
I drop the glass and compose myself for the ride home. Hitting my fist against my heart with a loud scream as I drive up the winding streets and get ready for the onslaught I wanted until I get to our perfect family home.
Dad stands from his convertible, fixing his tie, just as I get to the apron of our driveway. His gold ring shines as he runs a hand through his slicked back dark chocolate brown hair. The same shade as mine.
My engine revs as I stare him down. The man that made me and broke me within twenty years. The man that broke her. I don’t know how, but I know he did it.
He closes the door and faces me. His legs spread with his arms crossed over his chest, daring me to do it.
One shift of the gear and my truck would demolish him. The stench of alcohol on me would rule it as a DWI and a tragic accident. I wouldn”t get in too much trouble, not enough to put me away for long. Maybe a few days in a cell, and a suspended license with a fine that will be easily paid. Who would press charges? The town? I’m not sure if they love me or him more.
Another rev of my engine is cut off by the side door of our home swinging open. Mom steps out onto the driveway in a muted gray dress she wore to wherever they came from and waves out at me with a wide smile. It’s not genuine, but she’s gotten good at hiding her true feelings over the many years of silent torture.
She’s still here, bearing the nightmare with me.
Dad laughs and shakes his head condescendingly. He knows I won’t do it.
Stop being such a baby.
I wait for him to go inside before getting out of the car to calm the shakes and adrenaline coursing through me.
“Why are you here?” Mom greets me outside the door.
“I have to get something from my room.” I look out across the vast yard in the empty cul-de-sac without any neighbors close enough to hear or see anything.
“I can smell the alcohol on you. You shouldn’t be driving.” Mom rubs my arms to grab my attention. “Go straight to your room. Clean up and I’ll heat a plate of leftovers to help you sober up when you’re ready.” She clutches my biceps and begs for me to listen. “Please, Carter. Don’t let him see you like this.” I nod to agree, forgoing my original plan. “You’re a good man, Carter.”
She says it every chance she gets. Telling me I’m a good man as if it’ll come true the more times it’s said.
I meet her halfway when she rises on her toes to kiss my cheek and follow her inside, but I’m caught, no matter if I wanted to be or not.
“I fucking knew it.” Dad takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the stairway railing where he stood, waiting for me. “I could see those bloodshot eyes from up the driveway.” They’re not bloodshot from drinking. “Who sold it to you?”
“No one.” I shrug, watching him loosen his tie and roll his shirtsleeves up to his elbows.
Mayor Pierce threatens to close down any place that sells liquor to minors, but he knows every store and bar that does, and does nothing about it.
He looks over his shoulder at his open office door. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice tonight? Are you really that dumb?”
I hoped he’d notice. My plan to rile him up is working.
He stands toe to toe with me, only a couple of inches taller. If I tried, I might be able to take him, but it isn’t worth it. The minute I fight back, he’ll move on to weaker things.
He clutches a handful of my T-shirt, twisting it into his fist. This is exactly what I wanted.
Toughen up.
I won’t fight back, but I’ll never back down.
“You may be as big as me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still whip your sorry excuse for a son’s ass.”