17. Griffin
My skates hit the ice for warmups, and I inhale deeply as I take a few laps around our zone. Being on the ice is the only thing that makes me feel anything. It’s my only escape from the darkness of grief that threatens to pull me under every waking moment. Well, hockey and whiskey. But lately, even drinking myself into oblivion isn’t easing the pain—the anger—I feel. That’s why I started taking the pills a few weeks ago.
My birthday is this weekend, which means next week would’ve been Katie’s nineteenth birthday.
I’m striding toward the middle of the ice when I spot number twenty-two on the opposing team.
Carson.
I knew the game against him would bring memories rushing back that I’d been trying to repress. Memories of games of mini hockey, pond hockey, and street hockey, all with the four lakeshore kids—me, Carse, Kenna, and Katie. My stomach still sinks every time I even think of her name; both of their names, if I’m being honest.
I didn’t just lose Katie that night. I lost part of myself, too. I had to push Kenna away, and in doing so, I lost the love of my life.
It’s so weird. I know she’s halfway across the country, but every time I look in the crowds at one of our games, I’ll see a girl with long blonde hair and swear it’s Kenna.
Like right now, as I turn away from Carson, I could swear the girl behind the penalty box is Kenna. The girl has her back turned to me, but her honey-blonde hair falls over her black parka jacket and down to her waist.
I shake my head, about to turn away, when the girl takes off her jacket, making my chest constrict with more emotion than I’ve felt in months.
It’s her. I know even before she turns and I make eye contact with those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes.
I snap out of the trance that her eyes put me in and take her in. Now that her jacket is off, I can see that Kenna is in a jersey split down the middle—half red with a nine on one side and half white and maroon with a two on the other side. It makes my stomach bottom out.
Have all the school spirit you want, aside from the games we play versus each other. Come on, Katie Cat, I need a fan in the crowd. Kenna will wear Carson’s jersey—I need someone supporting me.
Alright, I promise I’ll always be your number-one fan whenever I’m at one of your games.
Kenna shouldn’t be here if Katie can’t.
My games, the ice, and hockey are supposed to be my one escape from the pain.
Seeing her after all this time, here . . . wearing that . . . well, it fucks me up.
It takes everything in me to pull myself together and turn my back on her.
Fuck.
Skating across the ice to our bench, Maks holds his gloved hand out for me to bump.
“You good, brother? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Maks says.
I shake my head. “No, my head is fucked right now. Kenna is here.”
His eyebrows disappear under his helmet. “You sure? You’ve thought you saw her before.”
“I’m sure. She’s wearing my jersey. Well, half of my jersey and half of her brother’s jersey.” I nod my head toward the penalty box she’s sitting behind.
“Shit, G. Do you want me to get someone to bring her down to talk to you before the game? We need your head in the right place.”
“Hearing her voice would fuck me up worse than seeing her is. I’ll be good, Maks. I just need to take a few laps to clear my head.”
I take off at a leisurely pace around our zone. I nod to a few of my teammates and then let the music flow through me, amping my adrenaline.
After we warm up, we go to the locker room while they resurface the ice. My hands shake as I reach into my jacket pocket and feel for the small baggy I bought earlier today. My nerves are shot.
I slip the baggy into my fist before heading into one of the bathroom stalls. I’ve only taken Adderall a few times recently when everything became too much, and right now, things are too much. So I slip two pills into my mouth and dry swallow them.
I’ve never fucked around with drugs prior to these past few weeks. But seeing Kenna tonight has my head fucked, and I need to focus.
It’s early January, which means Carson and a few guys from each team just got back from the World Juniors tournament, which was in Canada this year.
I was too old to play this year, but I’m proud of the guys who played on the U.S. team. They beat Canada in the finals—it was a barn burner. I have three Emery teammates who played for Team Canada, but they all seem to have put the game behind them, ready to focus on our season again.
But tonight our team isn’t the only undefeated team on the ice. This game is big for both teams. I need to get my head in the game.
Abbott University has more young guns trying to prove themselves. We have more seasoned players desperate to win a National Championship.
I’ve reviewed countless hours of film over the past two weeks in preparation for this game.
But one glimpse of Kenna has me in a tailspin. My only hope is the pills will help me focus and I’ll be able to zone her out. I have to.
It’s nearing the end of the third period, the game is tied two to two, and I’ve got a goal and an assist. The game has gotten chippy—I took a hard one against the boards last shift. Carson just got tossed to the ice in front of our net by my teammate, Schmitty.
We’re at the face-off circle when Schmitty decides to try to get a rise out of Carson. “Hey Wilder, your sister looks like she’s ready for a wild night. Feel free to let her know she can get a ride home from me tonight. Maybe she can take me for a ride later.”
Fucker. Doesn’t he know about my history with Kenna? Instead of just getting in Carson’s head, he’s fucking with mine too.
“That’s enough,” I bark at him.
Just when I get Schmitty to shut the hell up, one of Carson’s teammates, Ian Nelson, decides to clip the last thread of patience I had for tonight.
“Sorry, Schmitty. She’s rooming with me tonight.” Then he looks right at me, smirking as he positions himself for the face-off.
My skin feels like it’ll burst at the seams if I don’t expel this rage inside of me.
Nelson lowers his voice so only I can hear, “I should thank you, Turner. Chicks do the hottest things when they’re a little broken.”
I clench my jaw so hard I think I’ll crack a tooth.
“And you didn’t just break her a little. You fucked her pretty little heart up, just like I plan to do to her pussy—”
Before he can finish, I drop my gloves, grab his jersey, and start throwing blows to his head. His helmet comes off after I connect with the side of his head the second time.
Nelson lays a few on me before my fist connects with his nose. I feel his bones crunch beneath my knuckles. Nelson falls back on his ass, cradling his face as blood seeps through his hands onto the ice. He looks up at me, and the sadistic fucker must have a death wish because he says, “I can’t wait for her to kiss it all better.”
I lunge toward him, ready to go again, but I’m pulled back by Emmett. “Get in the locker room, G. You’re done.” He’s right. Fighting in college hockey is frowned upon and heavily penalized, which means it’s not surprising when I’m ejected from the game and told I will have to sit for the next one.
What the fuck did I just do? I’m our team’s leading scorer, and the game is tied with only a few minutes left.
After I got a verbal ass-kicking from Coach, I put my headphones in, grabbed my shit from my locker stall, and stormed out of the locker room.
Ignoring the fans in the hallway, I walk straight to the player exit. Just when I’m about to round the corner, someone yanks my elbow.
Taking out my AirPods, I turn, about to tell whoever it is to fuck off.
But when I fully turn, I’m met with Kenna’s mesmerizing, pleading eyes. “Griffin, can we please go somewhere to talk? There’s something we need to discuss.”
My heart sinks at the sound of her voice. I’ve missed her so fucking much. But instead of telling her that, my response comes out cold and rigid. “I have nothing to say to you, McKenna. You need to walk away. Get on the next plane out and go back to Minnesota.”
“I can’t go back without having this conversation with you. Please,” she begs, her eyes brimming with tears. I soften when I see the emotion on her face.
Seeing Kenna in front of me—looking so beautiful it hurts—is messing with my intentions.
You can’t be with her.
I’m about to say fuck it and give in when a familiar and very unwelcome voice interrupts, “Oh my gosh. Desperate much? He said he doesn’t want you. Get over it and move on.” Emily, my ex, slinks her arm through mine. I can feel her claws grip me through my wool dress coat.
Fuck, this looks bad. I know it does.
Kenna doesn’t say anything, but the look of agony on her face hits me like an ax through the chest. Then, it dawns on me that maybe this is what she needs to see. I need to hurt her now, make her understand that it’s done between the two of us. That way, she can move on, and I don’t have to ever feel the pain that comes with seeing her again. I’d rather feel the emptiness from her absence in my life than the pain and anger that seeing her brings.
Pain because I miss her with every breath I take. She very well may be the oxygen I need to survive.
Anger because I hate myself for pushing her away, and her presence is enough to bring me to my knees.
Hurting her is the only way she’ll finally cut ties with me. It’s what’s best for her.
I remove my arm from Emily’s grasp and wrap my arm around her shoulders instead.
Kenna visibly flinches at my gesture. I know what she’s thinking. The betrayal is written all over her face.
Even though I haven’t spoken a word to Emily this semester, I look at Kenna and lie straight to her beautiful face. “Like I said, I have nothing to say to you. You need to move on. Your attempts to reach me have all gone unanswered. It’s starting to look pathetic. Now, if you excuse us, we’ve got a victory party to attend. Be sure to send Carson my condolences on his loss tonight.”
“No need. I’m right here,” Carson chips in as he sidles up beside Kenna. “What the fuck, G?” His voice drips with anger, matching the rage fueling me.
“Don’t take it personally, Carse. I’m sure there will be plenty more losses in your college career. The first one always stings the worst.” My tone is detached—condescending.
Carson’s eyebrows furrow beneath his beanie. “Jesus, G. Do you think I give a fuck about the game right now? Why the fuck are you talking to my sister like she’s a desperate bunny?”
Kenna cowers at his question.
“If she’s going to act like one with Nelson, then I’ll treat her as such.” I don’t wait for a response from either of them. Grabbing Emily’s hand, I drag her after me. I need a stiff drink. Better yet, I need to drown in a bottle.
I feel self-conscious wearing my jersey to the party Carson said Griff would be at, so I put on one of the oversized sweatshirts I purchased last week. My bump is still barely visible, but I don’t feel like drawing more attention than I’m already going to.
Besides, I don’t think Griff liked that I wore the jersey in the first place. Even though we aren’t together, I will always love and support him, and I just wanted him to feel a little less alone tonight—that he had someone there to cheer him on since Katie couldn’t be. How naive of me to believe he wouldn’t already have hundreds of fans with his name and number on their backs.
My heart aches thinking of how he looked at me outside the locker rooms. I don’t even recognize this version of Griff—arrogant, detached, rude, empty.
Carson and I are walking to the house party. “How did you know where he was?” I question Carson.
“One of his teammates, Tanner Miller, played on Team USA with me, so I texted him and asked where the party was at tonight,” Carse replies.
“I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t give me five minutes to talk alone. Even if he is with Emily again, he could talk to me. He acted as if I meant nothing to him—like we hadn’t known each other for over fifteen years.” I quickly swipe a fallen tear from my cheek.
Carse takes a deep breath and then blows out a white cloud into the cold Boston air. “I can’t say I would be recognizable if you had died that night, Mack. I’m not excusing his actions or words—I’ve never been more pissed off and disappointed than I was tonight.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. “I think you’ve got to go in there and not take no for an answer. You’ve got to do it for my little papaya.” He points to my stomach and then adds, “But seriously, who even knows what the fuck a papaya is? I had to Google it once it came up on the app yesterday.”
Laughing at his antics, I wrap him in a tight hug. Well, as tight as my little bump will allow.
“This is the place.” Carse nods to the house in front of us. It’s a brownstone, similar to Griff’s, just a few blocks down from his, actually.
We walk through the front door, and I’m surprised to see how spacious it is. We walk toward the large kitchen island that is filled with alcohol and mixers.
Loud music makes hearing what Carson is saying hard. Leaning in, he shouts, “Go find G. I’ll be right in here with Miller if you need me.”
I nod back at him before leaving the kitchen in search of Griffin. It doesn’t take long to find Griff. He’s in the back corner of the living room, flocked by a group of guys whom I’m guessing are teammates and a few girls.
Taking a deep breath to ease my nerves, I shift through the crowd to get to him.
I tap Griff’s shoulder. When he turns and sees it’s me, his face surprisingly lights up with one of his signature smiles I’ve missed so much.
I’m so thrown off by his reaction to seeing me that it takes me a moment before I say, “Griff, I need to talk to you. Can we go into another room?”
He quickly nods his head up and down. “Sure, anywhere you want. Anywhere. Do you want something to drink?” I’m thrown off by the complete one-eighty he’s taken since we talked a few hours ago at the rink.
Griff stares back at me with blown pupils and sweat coating his forehead then rubs his hand up and down my arm, before grabbing my wrist and dragging me down the hall to what looks like a den.
There are a few guys sitting together and taking drags off a joint. “Out, now,” Griff commands.
“Who’s the bunny you’ve got there, G? Think I can take a turn later? I don’t mind Turner’s seconds,” one of them says.
Griff’s grip on my wrist tightens, causing me to wince in pain.
“Griff, stop. You’re hurting me.”
“Don’t fucking call her that. Don’t even fucking look at her. Get the fuck out. All of you, now,“ Griffin growls.
The guys seem to get the message because they quickly leave the room and shut the doors behind them.
Griff moves toward me, stumbling a little bit on his feet.
“What are you doing here, Sunshine?” he asks, taking my face in his hands. “I have to touch you to know you’re really here.”
I close my eyes and lean into the warmth of his touch. My heart swells from the familiarity and comfort his caress brings.
That is until he grinds his erection into me and groans. I take a huge step back, breaking our embrace.
I feel like I’m getting whiplash from his intense mood swings. He went from being annoyed with me being at his game, to ecstatic to see me here, to being ready to throw down with one of his teammates, to grinding with me in a matter of minutes.
I come right out and blurt, “Griffin, I’m pregnant.”
A look of agony passes across his face before his mask of indifference slips back into place.
“You sure moved on quickly. Not like I can blame you. It’s been easier to numb the pain of losing Katie by blowing my load with a random here and there. But I didn’t take you to be so careless. It was one thing to go bare with me, but to trust some random guy—”
I don’t let him finish that statement. “I haven’t been with any random guys. Jesus, Griff. What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you? You come here, ask to get me alone, rub up on me, then drop a bomb that someone knocked you up?”
“Not someone. You.”
“Me, what?”
“You. You got me pregnant, Griffin.”
He lets out a low, menacing chuckle. “Get the fuck out of here with that shit, McKenna. I haven’t touched you in months. You can’t pin your mistakes on me. You probably can’t remember who the real dad is, so you’re trying to trap me with it so I’ll feel obligated to take you back.”
My head snaps back as if I’ve been slapped.
“I haven’t even looked at another guy.”
“Is that so? What about Ian Nelson? He seemed to know you pretty intimately,” he practically growls.
“Ian is Carson’s roommate. I don’t know much about him, so I’m unsure how he could know me intimately.”
“Don’t be obtuse. You don’t have to know someone to fuck them. I clearly didn’t know you.”
Unshed tears blur my vision. “Why are you being so cruel?”
“I’m not the one being cruel, Sunshine.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I suppose our time for niceties and nicknames passed the second you tried to trap me with a baby. How convenient that you get pregnant and then try to pin it on the nation’s top NHL prospect. I didn’t take you as one for a free meal ticket when you always have your mommy and daddy dearest to ride home to.”
Out of nowhere, Carson charges up to us and slams his fist into Griffin’s face. “You motherfucker!” Carse yells at Griff. I scream for Carson to get off him and bring myself between the two of them.
“I can’t believe I ever trusted that you’d take care of my sister. You can’t even take care of yourself,” Carson shouts.
Griffin is breathing rapidly; his eyes are gazing at me ferally, which puts me on edge.
“You need to stay the fuck away from me, McKenna. I mean it. Don’t make this ugly.”
“I can’t imagine this getting any uglier than it already is, Griffin. But the message was received loud and clear. I just thought you had the right to know. How obtuse of me to think you’d actually want to be involved in your child’s life after knowing they exist.”
His wide eyes soften for just a moment. “Stay away from me, Sunshine. Please. Everyone I love dies. I can’t lose you too.”
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “If you ever truly loved me, you wouldn’t be sitting here breaking my heart into a million pieces, again.”
And with that, I grab Carson’s hand and turn my back on the only man I’ve ever loved—promising myself that my baby deserves better than this version of Griffin.