42. Ethan #2
Coach nods. “He was a good man. Struggling to make it to practice and classes and be there for Lorraine and the baby. So, I stepped in sometimes. Helped out when they needed it. Looked after Dylan during practice when a sitter fell through. Kept her at my place when they both had to study for exams. By the time they both graduated, I was like an uncle to that kid. I was at every single one of her birthday parties, at her high school graduation.” He swallows, emotion overwhelming him.
“After her dad died…” He falters for a split second before he clears his throat, pressing on.
“She’s been to hell and back this past year.
Between her dad, and the shit she was dealing with at NSU.
” He shakes his head, and I’m pretty sure he’s talking mostly to hi mself when he mutters, “I hadn’t realized it was that bad.
I should have… she wouldn’t have taken the out unless she was desperate.
Unless she had no other choice. She’d been so adamant that she had to pave her own path that when she accepted my offer to come here, I didn’t question it.
” He sighs heavily before the room falls silent.
I sense he’s lost in his own thoughts, in what he considers his own failures, but my mind spins with the nuggets of information he’s given us.
Nuggets that, along with the tidbits we’ve gotten from Dylan, suggest she was being bullied, badly, by her own team.
To the extent that she was forced to leave.
That left her feeling, like Coach said, like she had no other choice.
Dylan is strong . She has more than proven that.
Which begs the question, how fucking bad were things for her at NSU before she left?
How fucking bad did Lucas make things for her?
Jax and I share a look, but it’s Finn who questions, “What happened at NSU?”
That seems to snap Coach from his thoughts, and he gives Finn a hard look. “Don’t think I don’t know there’s something going on between Dylan and each of you. If she hasn’t shared her past with you, then I certainly won’t.”
“You brought her to BSU because she was being bullied,” I interject.
Coach’s glare shifts to me. “That girl was a Steelhawk from the day and hour she was born. She’d have been here from freshman year if it wasn’t for her stubborn pride.
” He pins each of us with a look. “She deserves to be here as much as anyone else. NSU couldn’t see that her potential was wasted sitting on the bench every game, but I knew . ”
I’m not disputing that. I don’t believe any of us are. Dylan has more than proven herself on the ice. I’m beginning to think she’s proven herself off the ice, too, and we were the dumb shits who believed some pictures over her word .
She even said herself that the photos were Photoshopped.
Is that part of the bullying Coach referred to? Did Lucas pull that shit on her last year? My teeth grind at that notion, even though I have no right to feel anger on her behalf, to feel protective of her. Not after how majorly I’m beginning to realize I fucked up last night.
How majorly we fucked up.
Certainly if Kyle was wrong about this, it reasons that he was wrong about her sleeping with her old coach. Which means that all of it, every moment that played out on the jumbotron last night, was fake.
Except for the ones between each of us.
That was the only real thing displayed on the jumbotron.
And we fucked it all up.
I made the biggest mistake of my life by not believing her. By doubting her.
God, I’m a fucking idiot.
I exchange a look with Finn, then Jax, each of them wearing mirroring guilt-ridden, panicked expressions.
“I agree,” I tell Coach, facing him with a newfound determination. “Dylan is a Steelhawk through and through, and Steelhawks take care of their own.”
Coach nods. From the corner of my eye, Jax straightens, a similar look of resolve settling on his face. Even Finn sits upright in his chair.
Even if Dylan doesn’t want our help. Even if she despises us now. She is a Steelhawk, and Kyle has just proven that he isn’t.
I’m sitting on the sofa that afternoon, still reeling from our chat with Coach earlier.
All of us are. Jax has chosen to distract himself with video games while Finn took himself upstairs after Coach left, looking like he’d just been informed he’d never play hockey again.
He came down half an hour ago, grabbing the roll of trash bags under the sink before storming back upstairs without looking our way.
God only knows what he’s doing up there.
His room is a bit of a pigsty, so hopefully he’s on a rampage clean.
I’ve been on at him to keep it organized for years now, but he never does listen.
If it takes fucking up with Dylan to get him to do it, then who am I to say anything?
We all have our own coping mechanisms for dealing with the fact that we fucked up.
Our own ways of passing the time until Dylan comes home.
So we can talk. Fix things. Can we fix things?
Fuck, I hope so. Once again, I’ve let her down.
Let her down as her captain. As her friend.
As a guy who is wholly consumed by her and wants everything she’s willing to give.
I let petty emotions, jealousy and insecurity, get the better of me instead of trusting the woman who has been slowly opening up to me—to us. Fuck, I’m an idiot.
“Why do you think Griffin was so quick to defend Dylan?” Jax asks, his mind clearly stuck on the same loop as mine, even as he steers a Formula One racing car around a track on the screen. “Do you think he knew, about what happened at her old school?”
Sighing, I scrub my hands down my face, running them down the cotton fabric of my sweats while I lean back on the sofa and turn over his question. “No clue. Maybe. Or maybe he’s just a better guy than we are.”
Jax scoffs, then seems to think about it and his lips purse. “Things are bad when Griffin is the one doing the right thing and we are fucking up.”
“At least she had someone last night.” That’s all I can think about. At least she wasn’t alone. Griffin took care of her. He got her out of that locker room, and I have no doubt he will have made sure she made it to Wren’s okay—assuming he left her side at all.
The red car Jax is driving makes it over the finish line and he tosses his controller on the table with a weary sigh.
“Assuming we manage to fix this, what then?” Leaning back, he brings his feet up to rest on the edge of the table as he meets my gaze.
“We’ve never actually talked about it. Each of us has just pursued her, knowing the others are too. ”
I shrug, having even less of an answer for that than his previous question.
“All I know is I want her. She makes me strive to be better. A better player, a better captain. A better man.”
Jax nods knowingly. “Same. She gets me out of my head. She makes me laugh. When she’s around I’m…lighter.”
“You are,” I agree. “You’ve spent less time holed up in your room or absorbed in video games, and you’ve come out with the team more than normal. You don’t hide away the same way you used to. It finally feels like you’re an active member of the team off the ice. It’s good.”
He smirks. “Well, I hate to break it to you, man, but she does nothing for your control issues. You’ve turned into a rabid bear since Dylan showed up. I bet you spent all night staring at that tracker app, making sure she was at Wren’s.”
Guilty as charged.
He barks a laugh, reading the answer all over my face.
“Griffin’s not going to let her go,” he says, growing serious again.
“Would you?” I arch a brow at him, already knowing his answer. It’s the same as mine.
“If I can salvage what we had, then fuck no.” He tilts his chin toward the ceiling. “What about Finn?”
“Pretty sure he’s just up there grappling with his come-to- Jesus moment. He’s been so busy denying his feelings for her, using excuse after excuse to build a wall between them.”
“And now that wall’s just been bulldozed.”
“Yup.”
“So, assuming she forgives us, are the four of us just going to…share her?” Jax sounds curious more than anything, his gaze staring off with a slight furrow between his brows like he’s trying to envision that future.
“I mean, we’re used to working as a team,” I say. I’ve been giving the situation a lot of thought this past twenty-four hours. “We’re stronger together. Yeah, I wasn’t sure how Griffin fit in, but after yesterday, I can see that Dylan needs him.”
“Are we planning on fucking up that often?” Jax retorts with a hint of a teasing smile. “We’re going to get real good at groveling if that’s the case.”
“Griffin proved himself yesterday. To be honest, he earned my respect when he unquestioningly stood by her. When he ushered her out of that locker room and took care of her.”
Jax nods his agreement. “He didn’t have to invite us to the Timberwolves game,” he adds, cringing as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t think I even would have thought of inviting you guys if I had the opportunity to get her all to myself for a night.”
I huff a chuckle, but I totally get it. It’s a rarity to have Dylan alone.
I’m not sure I’d have been so eager to share her with anyone else either.
That night, Griffin had the chance to take her out, just the two of them.
He could have used that opportunity to keep her for himself, to put a wedge between her and us, and yet, he hadn’t.
For a possessive asshole, he sure seems open to sharing the one person who has come to mean the most to all of us.
The sound of the front door being opened has me jumping to my feet, Jax straightening as our heads whip toward the sound. My breath lodges in my throat as I wait in hope for Dylan to appear. To see with my own eyes that she’s safe.
“Oh, it’s you.” Jax physically deflates as Griffin stomps into the room, looking like a man possessed. My own shoulders deflate in disappointment.
He doesn’t acknowledge Jax’s words, doesn’t so much as slow down as he storms toward us. “Tell me what the fuck you’re going to do to fix this, ’cause if I have to look at Dylan’s tearstained face one more time, I’m going to castrate each and every one of you, and I’ll fucking enjoy doing it.”
Jax looks like he’s been slapped. “She’s been crying?” He cringes, his hand coming up to rub at his chest.
“She never cries,” I muse aloud, voice quiet, devastated.
“Only when the people she thought she could trust throw her away like she’s dog shit,” Griffin snarls, sounding feral.
Stopping in front of us, he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s wearing his standard all black gear, the muscles of his forearms straining against the seams of his leather jacket.
“So tell me how the fuck you’re planning on fixing it. ”
Jax and I share a look. One that makes Griffin growl in irritation.
“Do I need to go get a knife from the kitchen?” he snarls. His body is strung so tight that I’d well believe he’s a split second’s hesitation away from following through on that threat.
Undeterred, Jax rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
It’s apparently the wrong thing to say. Any self-control he possessed is obliterated.
Griffin’s eyes flash with menace as he takes a threatening step toward Jax, who abruptly stands, planting his feet and squaring his shoulders.
Before I can intervene, Griffin’s lip curls back and he hisses, “Dramatic? I can guarantee, you’d be feeling downright murderous too if you’d spent the morning with the woman who is a mere fucking shell of who she was yesterday.
And if you didn’t,” he continues, looking Jax over with contempt, “then you never fucking deserved her.”
Well, holy shit. I think it’s safe to say Griffin Price is in love.
And it’s downright terrifying.
“So either you dipshits have a plan or I’m packing up her room and she’s moving in with me.”
“Dylan isn’t going anywhere.” We all turn as Finn appears at the bottom of the stairs, a trash bag thrown over his shoulder and another dangling from his hand. He drops them on the ground by the door, planting his hands on his hips. “Kyle is.”
And now I know what’s in the bags.
“Look who finally pulled his head out of his ass.” Griffin slow claps.
Ignoring him, Finn’s gaze slides to mine. “Dylan can’t live under the same roof as him. Not after the shit he pulled last night.”
Griffin snarls, but wisely keeps his mouth shut.
I know what he’s thinking. She shouldn’t have had to endure living under the same roof as him after he attacked her.
There’s no point in bringing that up now, though.
Finn is finally seeing Kyle for who he is; is finally onboard with protecting Dylan. I’m not about to argue with that.
“I agree.” I look Jax’s way.
“So do I,” he says, face lined with resolve.
Clapping his hands together, Griffin says, “It’s settled then. I’ll move in here and take Kyle’s room, and he can have my old one.”
Finn’s head whips in his direction, eyes narrowing. “We didn’t agree to that.”
“I wasn’t giving you a choice,” Griffin drawls. I swear, he lives to antagonize those around him.
“It’s the best solution,” I say, holding up my hands and pinning Finn with a glare. “It’s him or someone else on the team. Who do you think Dylan would choose?”
That seems to get through to him, and he snaps his jaw shut. Turning his sharp stare to Griffin, he jerks his head toward the stairs. “In that case, you can help me carry down the rest of his shit before he gets home.”
“Where is he anyway?” Griffin inquires, a gleam entering his gaze. “I want to make sure I’m here when he gets back.”
“He went home with some girl he picked up at The Stanley last night,” Finn informs us. “He’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t think this will be enough to make things right with Dylan—or with me,” Griffin states with a touch of warning as he eyes each of us.
“What the fuck did we do to you?” Finn barks.
The look Griffin levels him would have lesser men pissing themselves. But we’re hockey players. We don’t balk in the face of pain. We stand taller.
“You hurt the only thing on this planet that I care more for than hockey.” There’s a possession behind his words, a level of loyalty that runs so deep I don’t believe even death could sever it.
“And I will make sure you get on your knees and fucking beg for her forgiveness before she gives it to you.”
I can already see what a fucking blast it’s going to be having Griffin living here. Don’t get me wrong, I will willingly get on my knees before Dylan and beg her to forgive me. I just didn’t expect to be doing it with Griffin smirking down at me. Asshole.