TWENTY-SIX
C rawling out of bed this morning after Hanna found out her dad died last night was more effort for me than I thought it would be. Pulling a T-shirt over my head, I run my fingers through my hair and make my way to the dresser.
I dealt with my dad's death, but not the way I should have. I was forced by my mother to do things I shouldn't have. I should have got to say goodbye and mourn my father first.
Yet that isn't how it played out, and that's why I don't know how to love. But I do know I have to be there for her. She's drowning in grief, and I can't do anything but be there for her.
She needs her rest, especially with her brother coming to town tomorrow to see her. Hanna has a funeral to go to in New York, and I am determined to attend with her.
Someone lightly knocks on the bedroom door. "Damon."
Quickly pulling it open, I shove my fingers to my lips and shoot Sam a glare. My lips are in a thin line when I see his face.
I'm really not in the mood for anyone. "She needs rest, be quiet," I reply, buttoning my jeans before following him down the stairs to the kitchen. We have hockey games, of all things today, and my mind isn't even in it. I want to stay here and be here for her.
Sighing, I chug back one of my boosts, running my fingers through my dark hair, before shoving a beanie over my dark waves. I promised Ace I'd be there, and I can't break that promise.
Closing my eyes briefly, I slide my Princeton hockey jacket on and follow the boys out to the car. With my head leaning against the window, my mind travels off again.
She has to be okay. She's in a full out depression right now. I don't know how to help her, and I want to. My entire soul aches for her. My mind is cut off to Sam tapping my shoulder, bringing me out of my thoughts.
"We're at the arena," he replies softly.
I nod and climb out, grabbing my hockey bag and heading into the building, leaving all my friends behind as I enter the locker rooms.
The room goes dead silent when I enter, and I raise my eyebrows at my teammates. Nate avoids my eyes, and Chance stares down at his skates. Sam told them? He told them about Hanna's dad? What the fuck!
Slamming the bag down beside Alex, I plant my ass on the bench and begin getting ready. The room stays silent until Sam enters and spices up a conversation to distract the team from my mood.
My mind clears once my skates hit the ice, and I slam puck after puck into the net for our warmup. Passing the puck to Nate, the two of us continue our warmup while the rest of the team joins in until a whistle is blown.
Skating over to the bench, I stop in front of the coach and watch him. "The first line is Ace, Damon, Nathan, Sam, and Damien," he announces. Perfect, I'd love to toss around some assholes for a minute.
Using my leg muscles, I race after the puck, slamming over one of our opponents as I skate. "Fuck you, Saint," he yells.
Just what I need, some asshole barking at me, today of all days. "Stay out of my fucking way, Grayson," I snarl as I retrieve the puck and skate back toward the other net. I lose my balance when a full body slams me into the boards and holds me there.
That's just another pin in the middle of my rage. "Leave him alone," Oliver Rex snarls in my face. Okay, I've had enough of these people telling me how to play a fucking hockey game.
Dropping my stick, I slam my fist into Rex's helmet, shocking him for a moment. Before I can register, fists are flying and my helmet hits the ice. Knocking Rex back in his big gob, I shove him away from me and wipe the blood from my face.
I wish I could just shove my gun in this fucker's face. "Saint!" Coach screams from the bench. I look up momentarily, giving Rex an advantage.
My cheek burns as blood sputters from my mouth and lands on the ice. "What the fuck!" Sam yells. I hear skates hit the ice before my body slams into the ice.
"Fuck off, Rex," Ace growls, tossing him aside and dropping beside me. My mind is all fuzzy, but I register Ace's face. My eyes wander and I catch Damien's eyes blazing as his fist slams into Rex's face.
Blood surrounds me on the ice. "Your cheek is bleeding," Sam growls as he drops beside Ace.
"I registered that." I chuckle. Because of course I get a skate to the face.
Sam rolls his eyes and examines me. "He sliced your face with his skate, dumbass," Ace replies. I eye Nate slamming a fist into another opponent's jaw before my eyes meet Sam and Ace again.
I wipe my bleeding cheek. "I need to be with Hanna, not here." Sam pulls me to my feet as the crowd cheers. A cut cheek won’t keep me down, especially because a gunshot couldn't.
Sam hauls me over to the locker room while Ace skates toward the bench to inform the coach. Slumping down on the bench, I pull my skates off. "He never fought fair, Sam. Don't overthink it," I reply softly. He nods before eying me one last time.
I never know why he cares. His father runs the Costa Nostra. Why would he give a shit about us? My mother never held a truce with Sam's father, so he shouldn't need one with us. Yet here we are. I'm surprised his father hasn't lost it on him for being friends with us.
But then again, Samuel Delgado never takes no for an answer and always gets his way.
"Get on the ice," I bark. Sam grins at me before he leaves me to undress myself alone. Jesus, what a fucked-up day this has been. Pulling my shoulder pads over my head, I shove them into my bag before continuing to get dressed.
The hot shower feels amazing on my sliced cheek. Closing my eyes, I run my fingers through my dark wavy hair and scrub the shampoo throughout. Once I rinse myself off, I quickly grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist.
Scrubbing my wet hair, I enter the locker room and throw on my clothes quickly before grabbing my bag and heading out the door. I shoot Bailey a text for a ride because I know she's here. I wait patiently and scroll through Instagram.
"What's up?" She smiles as she pulls up. Bailey's smile drops as she watches me carefully. "Your cheeks are bleeding," she replies as I crawl into the car. Such mundane concern for a tiny wound.
But I don't snap at her. "Mm-hmm, got a skate to it," I reply, unfazed. She nods and pulls out of the parking lot, driving toward my off-campus condo.
Why did we choose to live off campus again? Oh yeah, because Sam refused to live near the dorms. I smile to myself as we pull up outside the house.
"Thanks," I reply, shooting her a soft smile before I grab my bag and head inside. Once I kick off my shoes and drop my hockey bag, I head straight upstairs into my room. My eyes land on Hanna as she types quickly on her laptop. "What are you doing here?"
She stares at me wide eyed before she shoves her laptop off her and scrambles off the bed. "Your cheek! What the hell?"
"I'm fine." I press a kiss to her head. Pulling Hanna into my arms, I remind myself I'm lucky she didn't have an episode and that she's right here with me. I probably would have killed someone if that was the case.
Hanna gives me a soft smile before she crawls back onto the bed and begins typing again. "What are you doing?" I ask, crawling in beside her.
"An assignment. It's due today, and just because I'm home because someone… my dad died… Well, I still have schoolwork," she replies with a fake smile. Schoolwork is totally not important right now, but I don't tell her that.
I frown softly and lay back, watching her. How can the most beautiful person in the world be so hated by it? It let her be hurt twice by people she trusted. It let her dad die on her.
How is someone supposed to be happy when she's getting bombs dropped on her like this? Sighing, I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. "I'm here, you know that, right?" I whisper into her hair.
"I know," she replies, avoiding my eyes. I still haven't got that little lie out of her, but trying to now seems so ridiculous and cruel when she's so vulnerable.
Not even my care for her can save her from this. She has to save herself and without help, I don't see a happy ending for any of this.