Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
LUKE
Lana is a giant bitch. That’s the reason I’m doing this. It has nothing to do with the smart-mouthed, dark-haired witch. I’m not sure what she’s done to me, but it’s got to be some voodoo shit. Why else am I lingering outside of my brother’s office?
Vicky, the secretary, is staring a hole into his door. Who the hell does he have in there? A second later, the door swings open, and I see Paislee, Madeline’s sister. She gives me a shy, timed nod before walking past me without making eye contact. Madeline and she don’t have much in common.
“Everything all right?” my brother asks from the doorway.
“I need a favor.” That has his brows rising.
“Come on.” He nods for me to follow him into his office. I run my fingers through my short hair. Why do I have nervous energy? “Did you eat lunch?”
“I ate.” After I spent way too fucking long figuring out where the hell Madeline and Georgia went. I guess Georgia has a tree she always has lunch under. I just grabbed a burger and headed this way. “I’ll need a pass,” I add. The next set of classes starts in a few minutes.
“What’s the favor?” He sits down in his chair behind his desk. I want to give him shit about Paislee being in here, but now isn’t the time. Not when I’m asking him to do me a solid.
“Coach Murphy.”
“The Ice Crew coach?” he asks.
I nod. “They vote for the captain or some shit.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t give a shit. I don’t think he even cares for this job, but I’m not going around and around on that one again with him. Stubbornness has to be a Locke family trait.
“I want you to tell Coach Murphy that the vote needs to be private.”
Bennett stares at me. “I want to know the reason why before I do it.”
“Then you’ll do it?”
“Sure,” he agrees.
“Lana is a cunt, and she bullies people into voting for her.”
“Luke.” My name is filled with irrationality.
“It’s only us in here.”
“There is more to this.”
“I gave you the reason.” I’m already standing. “I need my pass.” He grabs one and fills it out for me, knowing if I don’t have one, I’ll be sent right back here.
“Here.” He hands over the slip. “I’ll talk to Coach Murphy. You stop being an asshole to Coach Ken,” he says as I snatch the slip from him.
“That wasn’t the deal.” I walk backwards a couple of steps. “Besides, if I’m not a dick, he’ll think something is wrong.” I smirk.
“Get to class.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, and I can tell it surprises him. Our relationship hasn’t been good in years. I can’t say he’s done anything wrong. Not that he’s aware of.
The rest of the classes drag on before we’re released, and I have to head over to the rink for practice.
“You good?” Grant asks, coming to a stop on the ice next to me as Coach shouts out drills.
“I’m fine.” I try to school my features because I’ve learned how perceptive Grant is.
He follows my line of sight down the rink to the other end, where the Ice Crew is gearing up for their own practice. They hit the ice after us. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I watch. My eyes keep going straight to Madeline.
She’s not hard to spot with how tall she is compared to the other girls. I’m intrigued by her gunning for Lana. She needs to be careful because that bitch does have claws and a daddy that will do anything for her.
“Where’s the friend?” Grant asks.
“Who?” I don’t know who he’s referring to, but I’m also not paying much attention either.
“The girl with the curls, Georgia.”
“Not on the ice team.” I glance over toward him, and he gives me one of his disarming smiles that works on anyone.
The more Grant hangs around me, the more I see these cracks in his charming exterior.
I’ve noticed he uses it as a shield, but I’m not sure what he’s hiding.
I should dig into him; then again, what does it matter to me?
The coach blows the whistle, calling practice.
“Good practice, Locke,” Coach tells me as I reluctantly head back toward the locker room. I grunt a response and hurriedly take a shower and change.
“Incoming,” Grant says, opening his locker a second before Coach is standing there.
“What’s up?” I ask as I run a hand towel through my damp hair.
“Are you ready for the game?”
“As ready as ever.” I close my locker, pulling out my phone to check the time. “Am I the only one getting this pep talk?” The game is tomorrow night. It’s the first of the year, and it will be at home.
“You put a person in the hospital last year the first game.” Do they want me to wait a few games before I lay them out? What’s the fun in that? I play hockey to knock the shit out of people.
“I thought it was two?” Grant laughs but quickly covers it with a cough. That second one might have been at a house party afterward. It can all start to blur together. They were fucking assholes. I did the world a favor taking them down a few pegs.
“Luke, you only just got off probation.” It wasn’t real probation. It was half-assed shit they all made up because I needed to be in trouble, but they weren’t benching me. That’s when the local sheriff and the rest of them put me on made-up probation.
“Okay,” I say. I won’t make any promises. They had it coming, and if you can’t take the hits, get off the ice. “I got it,” I add when he starts to go on about it more to drive his point home. “Grant needs a word with you,” I tell the coach before stepping around him.
“What?” I hear Grant say but keep walking. I don’t need his ass following me, and that’s what he’ll do. I don’t head out the side doors. Instead, I make my way up a level.
I walk out of one of the tunnels that oversees the ice. I can’t hear what they are saying, but I simply watch.
That will have to be enough.