CHAPTER FIFTEEN MARSHALL #3
"Heard your girl used to fuck Mercer." He said loud enough for me to hear, but too quiet for another player or the ref to catch. "Brett Mercer."
I didn't react. I skated over toward the ref, waiting direction, only he followed.
"Mercer said she was a good time." Flint continued gliding beside me like we were having a conversation. "Said she likes it rough. Is that true, Hayes? Does she like it rough?"
My blood ran cold and then hot. Every cell in my body wanted me to turn and drop the gloves. I wanted to grab his jersey and slam him into the boards, hit him hard until those words were gone from his memory. The rage was immediate, filling my chest.
"Walk away, Flint." I gritted, my voice flat.
Flint grinned.
"Mercer and I are good friends. He told me all about her. Said she…"
I was in his face before he finished the thought.
Every muscle in my body was ready for the fight, my jaw clenched so tight I could feel my teeth grinding.
I could see the veins in his neck. Two of my teammates were on me right away.
Jeremy on my left and Ashford on my right, each one of them had an arm and were pulling me back.
"Don't," Jeremy said, his voice urgent but calm as his hand gripped my shoulder. "He wants this, don't give it to him."
"Marsh, come on." Ashford said, pulling my other arm. "Think about what happens if you do this here."
Five minutes for fighting, perhaps ten. A game misconduct if the refs decided I was the one who instigated it. A suspension if the league reviewed it. A conversation with Briggs that I didn't want to have and headlines that would follow me around for the rest of the season, if not the next.
Then there was Lillah, who'd made me promise I wouldn't let him affect my career.
I looked up toward the team box and saw her, standing there, her hands against the glass, her face tight with concern.
She couldn't hear what Flint had said, but I knew she could see something had gone on.
She could probably see the rage on my face.
I let Jeremy and Ashford pull me back, guiding me over to the bench where I sat down and put my head in my hands, and took in a few deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Again and again, the way I'd learned when I was younger.
The anger faded and the sounds of the arena came back, the crowd roaring, as I stepped into the bench.
I felt a hand on my back. "Are you good?" Briggs asked.
"Yep, good." I said.
"What did he say to you?" Briggs asked, knowing full well something had gone on.
I shook my head. "Nothing worth repeating."
Briggs studied me for a moment. He knew. Coaches always knew. They'd played the game long enough to know exactly what someone could say to get under a player's skin, they'd seen it many times.
"Next shift, ignore him. Play hockey." He said.
I did what he said. I played hockey, and I got a breakaway. I came in hard from the left wing, deked right and pulled the puck to my backhand, sending it over the goalie's blocker. The horn sounded and the crowd went wild.
I pointed up at the box, right at Lillah who was already on her feet, screaming, her hands on the glass, smiling at me.
We won the game, four to two and the locker room was crazy with celebration.
I showered, dressed, and packed my bag. By the time I made it to the hallway, the arena was emptying.
Lillah was waiting for me, leaning against the concrete wall in fitted jeans and a soft pink sweater, her arms crossed over her chest.
"What happened out there tonight?" She asked the moment I reached her. "With number twelve?"
"Nothing."
"Marshall, I saw the look on your face. It wasn't nothing."
I put my hand on the back of her neck and pulled her head against mine. I placed a kiss on her lips and pressed my forehead against hers.
"Your ex likes to talk." I whispered. "He told Flint about you."
I felt her body tense. "What did he say?"
"It doesn't matter. I handled it."
"What did you do?"
"Nothing, you saw that. But I won't lie. I wanted to."
She searched my face. I knew she was looking to see if I was going to keep my promise to her or if I was going to break it. I'd been angry, but I'd promised, and I was standing by that.
"I told you, don't let him affect your career. He isn't worth it."
"Yeah, but you are." I said, my eyes on hers.
"I'm not worth that, Marshall."
"To me, you are."
She leaned in and kissed me as my teammates walked past us. Jeremy was last, and he shoved me in the back as he passed by.
"Get a room, rookie." He said, looking over his shoulder at us and grinning.
Ashford followed, grinning.
Lillah laughed against my mouth as I flipped them off without breaking our kiss. We drove home together, her hand in mine on the center console, her head resting against the headrest.
"Marshall?" She whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I love you." She said without looking at me. "You don't need to say it, I just wanted to let you know and to say it again."
"Well, I love you too," I said, squeezing her hand as we kept driving.