Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
JAKE
“Sergeant?” The radio pinned to my chest crackled to life.
I pressed the button on my shoulder. “Copy.” The arena was packed. This was the first sold-out game since I’d started at the arena. A Parliament-Grizzlies doubleheader where both teams played on the same day was exciting… in theory. The execution was exhausting, at least for me. It had turned into an all-day drink-fest for a number of fans. Two periods into the second game and I was ready to tap out.
One of the only things keeping me going was knowing I’d be done by midnight and had two days off afterward. Unfortunately, midnight was still three hours away and I’d already been at the arena for over eleven hours. The Parliament had played earlier and the Grizzlies were halfway through the second period. My watch had alerted me to reaching ten thousand steps before the Parliament game and I’d gotten a vibration for twenty thousand steps before the Grizzlies. I was pretty sure I was close to thirty thousand now.
“Section one oh three, row five. Drunk and disorderly. Security is requesting backup.”
I sighed. I was about as far from there as I could be. Looking around, I spotted the doorway to one of the access hallways I’d come to know like the back of my hand. Before taking the job, I’d never known how many shortcuts were built into arenas. “Copy that. Anyone near one oh three, please respond.”
It took about forty-five seconds for me to jog down the hallway and pop out of the door labeled 103. I’d barely stepped out of the door and could already see the commotion down the steps from where I was standing. Three men were tangled in a fight, beer had been spilled, and the rows around them had stood up and moved to get as far from the commotion, punches, and beer as possible.
Two other officers were making their way across the walkway above the section. Knowing I had backup who were trained to handle the situation with me, I jogged down the steps, dodged a few nosy onlookers, and hopped over a few puddles of beer along the way.
The sheer look of relief on the security guards’ faces at my arrival spoke volumes. Whoever had put the call out over the radio had failed to mention the security guards were both trained and well respected—this wasn’t going to be an easy situation to get under control.
“Okay, okay. Let’s take this upstairs,” I said in my most placating voice as I stepped between one of the guards and the most belligerent of the men.
A quick look over of them told me my initial assessment of the events had been inaccurate. I’d thought three men were fighting, but it turned out one of them was trying to block the guy taking swings from reaching the poor guy who had taken a seat as I’d hurried down the steps. The man was bent forward with his hand over his nose while blood poured out of it and onto the floor between his feet. Of course, the one guy was still throwing punches as though fighting off a zombie apocalypse.
My two officers were only a few rows above us, closing in fast, and the MMA-wannabe was moving closer to the guy blocking his way. My options were limited. There were too many people around us, and the guy in front of me was in an alcohol-induced rage. I saw my chance when he swung wildly with his left hand. It threw him off balance just slightly and I lunged at his right arm before he could regain his balance.
While I got his arm and managed to pull him back almost to the aisle, he regained his footing and swung his arm upward in an attempt to free himself before I had a cuff on him. My grip faltered just enough for him to make contact with the underside of my eye.
Pain radiated through my cheekbone and my eye watered of its own accord. Adrenaline kicked in from there and within a few seconds, and with the added help of an extra set of hands, I had both his arms pinned behind his back and was slapping cuffs on his wrists before he could take another swing.
The man reeked of alcohol, causing me to wrinkle my nose in disgust. I looked at the two officers with me. “You good to handle the rest?”
One of the other officers nodded her head. “Yeah, we got this. You okay?”
I lifted a shoulder and winked with my good eye. “Been better.”
She waved me off, though I knew I’d be seeing her shortly. Not only would she worry about me, but there would be paperwork we had to fill out now. On my way up the steps with my newly subdued fighter, I used one hand to guide him and the other to work the radio on my shoulder and request transport to the jail. Figuring out what the hell had led to the fight was the next thing on my list, but not until I had him in a holding room where it was quiet and away from the crowd.
I pushed him past the EMTs and into a room not much bigger than the storage closet Esme and I had landed in earlier in the week. I had to fight to keep the memories from that morning at bay while I guided him toward a chair. “Sit down,” I all but growled, resisting the urge to ask him what the fuck he’d been thinking or hoping to accomplish with his display of stupidity.
In my experience, nothing wise came from drunk people.
“Hey, where’s my beer? I paid for that beer!”
Rubbing my temples made me remember the blooming bruise beneath my eye thanks to the bite of pain in my cheek.
Three more hours.
A light knock on the door drew my attention from the man in the chair, though I didn’t take my eyes off him as I stepped back and opened it. One of the EMTs was on the other side, holding an ice pack out to me with a soft smile on her face. “Thought you might need this.”
“Thanks.”
Nearly two hours, a lot of paperwork, and a painfully thorough exam by the EMTs later, I was doing my last loop of the main concourse before heading downstairs to make sure the players got out okay. I’d been given a few Advil by a medic and told nothing was broken, but the puffy, bruised spot on my face was going to hang around for a while and probably look a lot worse before it looked any better.
At least I had a few days off.
I took the steps down to the lower level and headed toward the tunnel the players and coaches left through. I knew officers were already down there, but I wanted to make sure everyone was in position and the players and staff were able to get out of the parking area without issue. Then I could go home and snuggle Elle, my elephant blanket, grab my pacifier, and curl up in bed for the next eighteen or so hours.
Seth stopped his conversation mid-sentence as I headed past the Grizzlies locker room. “Holy crap, Jake, are you okay?”
Since he looked genuinely concerned, I tried to give him a smile. “Yeah. I’m good. Or I will be.”
“We saw him hit you. And it’s all over social already. You sure? That was a hell of a hit. Maybe you should try out for the team in the fall. If you can take a hit like that and stay on your feet, you’re halfway to being a hockey player.”
I laughed despite the pain in my cheek. “Oh, that’s a good one. I can barely stand on skates! Wait, how did you see?”
“They took a TV timeout because of the fight.”
All I could do was groan at my luck. The entire arena had watched and I was now on social media too. Great.
Maz stepped behind Seth and wrapped an arm around his waist before pressing a gentle kiss on his temple. “Watch what you say around this one. He has a habit of teaching people to skate. So do his brothers.”
Seth nodded eagerly. “You’ll be skating for the Parliament in no time! Hell, you’d be shocked at how light on his feet Larson is! He’s not the fastest, but he can keep up with some of our bigger guys.”
It was still strange to me how much I’d learned about Seth’s family by making friends with Larson. I’d nearly fallen over when he’d told me Seth was his little brother. We’d had many laughs about what it had been like growing up as a Smith-Johnson—two of his brothers were Doms, another loved lace, and his parents owned a kink club. Larson had never said which brother was into what, and whenever I saw Seth at the arena, I tried not to think too hard about which brother he was.
“Lars was a paramedic for years. You might want him to check out your face,” Seth said, bringing the conversation full circle. “Actually… Hey, Indy!” He called to a woman walking down the hallway before I could tell him I’d already been cleared.
She stopped and looked to see who had called her name, then smiled when she saw it was Seth. Indy jogged over to us, looking Seth and Maz up and down with a searching expression on her face. “Everything okay?”
“We’re fine.” Seth grinned widely at her as though he needed to make sure to convince her he and Maz were really okay. “Jake took a hit during the game, though.”
Indy turned her attention to me, her eyes widening noticeably when she saw my face. “Ouch!” She glanced up, her expression turning to recognition, and she stuck her hand out in my direction. I took it automatically. “Hey, I’m Indigo, the team doctor. Good to finally meet you but sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’ve heard a lot about you from the guys. They all like what you’ve done so far.”
As she spoke, she was looking at my cheek and gently prodding at the swollen skin under my eye. Her poking was gentler than the EMT upstairs had been and I didn’t wince or flinch as she did so. She finished the exam and grinned up at me. “Just couldn’t let the professionals have all the fun, huh?”
She radiated warmth and friendliness, and it was impossible not to smile around her. “Seth’s trying to convince me to become a hockey player now.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Don’t do it. Your teeth are too pretty and your face isn’t all scarred up.” She shot Maz and Seth playfully knowing looks that had them laughing. When she sobered again, she was still smiling. “I think you’re fine. You lucked out. It missed your temple and your eye socket, though it’s probably going to give you a pretty nice bruise just the same. Nothing feels broken and you’re not screaming in pain when I poke at you. My professional advice: ice, Advil, and rest for a bit. Oh, and my personal advice is to go find good green and lavender concealers. They’ll be your best friends for the next week or so.” She patted my shoulder before walking away.
I blinked dumbly, though Seth was one step ahead. “Don’t buy concealer. I’ve got some green in my bag. It will be great for the next day or so while it’s still all red and fresh.” He turned and hurried back to the locker room.
Maz shook his head at his boyfriend’s retreating form. “Of course he does.” Then he turned to me with a conspiratorial grin. “And I’ve got the best lavender concealer on the market. My bruises always turn a sickly yellow color and it covers them like magic.”
In seconds, Seth was back, holding out a tube of green concealer. Or at least I guessed it was. I’d never been interested in makeup and was more than a little confused as to why the green stuff would cover a red bruise, though I figured it was something Google could answer later.
“Just keep that. I’ve got a brand-new tube in my bag. I keep the stuff on me at all times.”
“And if, or really when, it turns yellow, come find me. I’ll hook you up,” Maz said, shooting me a wink.
“I-I—” I had no idea how to respond to their generosity and advice and found myself nodding before finally finding my manners. “Thanks.”
Seth’s smile was ear to ear. “Not a problem.” Then he leaned forward and whispered so quietly I barely heard him. “Have fun tomorrow night. I know Lars is looking forward to it.”
I knew my cheeks were red enough that no amount of green concealer would hide the blush.
Maz sighed. “I don’t know what you just said, but I’m certain whatever it was was inappropriate.” He turned to me. “Sorry for his broken filter.” Then he turned them both toward the tunnel leading to their vehicle. “We’re going to get you home before you say anything else to get you in trouble.”
“Oh, how much trouble?” Seth’s flirty response managed to reach my ears and I stepped back, not willing to let my brain fixate on the conversation.
As I turned to get back to work, I caught a glimpse of Esme. He’d been standing along a wall, clearly trying to blend into the background. It would have worked better if it hadn’t been for his bright red hair and beard and imposing frame. When our eyes met, a startled expression crossed his face and he took a few steps toward me.