Chapter 33 Scarlett
scarlett
You can officially say I’m a hockey fan.
Lucas in full hockey gear is a sight I want burned into my memory forever.
His already broad shoulders are made impossibly wider by the pads sitting on top of them.
The speed at which he flies across the ice is just as fast as he told me at family night.
Something I respect because ice skating is incredibly humbling, and he makes it look easier than walking.
I cringe when he slams someone into the boards, steals the puck, and sends it down the ice to Wilson. The ref blows the whistle as the puck ends up on the opposite side with no players around. “Why’d they stop?” I ask, leaning into Abby’s side.
“It’s an icing call,” she responds, eyes watching for any sign of injury or distress from the guys.
My eyebrow hikes, “Icing? Like on a cinnamon roll?”
Her shrill laugh bounces off the glass in front of us, “No. Icing is when a player shoots the puck from behind their side of the red line.” She points to the line at one end of the rink.
“And it travels all the way to the opposing team's goal line without anyone touching it,” she says, pointing to the other side.
That seems like a ridiculous name for it, but okay. “Right, I’ll file that away for later.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll tell Monroe how stupid a name you think it is,” she counters.
My hand flies to my chest, “How dare you! It’s like you know me or something.” We laugh for a second before my bladder decides to put me on notice. “I gotta go to the bathroom, be right back,” I call over the music playing while the teams regroup.
Her eyes are weary when she looks at me, “Need me to come with you?”
I shake my head and smile, jogging up the steps, hoping like hell I can get there and back before he scores, or worse, notices I’m gone.
I find myself humming like he does when he’s happy sometimes.
I never thought this would be possible for me.
To have friends who genuinely want me around and care enough not to let me fight alone.
Who have taken me in, made me feel like I’ve always belonged, like I’ve been part of the crew from the start.
It’s everything little Lettie always hoped for.
I’m washing my hands when a shadow moves across the mirror.
My eyes widen when they lock with Damien’s.
“Scream, and it’ll be the last thing you do.” His breath is hot against my ear as his hands lean on the basin in front of me. Damn it, I should have let Abby come with me.
“What do you want?” I ask his reflection, one that looks so unfamiliar. This isn’t the man I’ve seen as my uncle my whole life. This is someone else. His eyes are hard, the lines on his face more pronounced. He looks tired, livid, but tired.
His chuckle is dark, devious in a way I only heard when he was trying to get me to come back. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble for me, girl.” I lift my chin, willing the shake in my hands to stop. Silently begging for someone to walk in here. “I think it’s time you fixed it.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Scar.” A flash of light catches my attention, pulling my focus off of him, a big mistake.
He presses a knife to my throat before I can take another breath, the cold of the metal makes goosebumps pebble on my skin.
A gasp tears from my throat, a truly pathetic sound.
“Come on, give me that fire I love so much. The fire that idiot on the ice would lose everything for.”
The air thickens, getting heavier the more my anger spikes, “Leave him alone. He’s lost enough.”
His hum rumbles through me as his chest presses further into my back. “No, he hasn’t lost you… for good. But that’s coming.”
“Why?” I choke on a sob. “Why hurt him?”
The man I thought of as my Godfather for years spins me around, the knife nicking my skin mid-turn.
My cry is smothered by his hand, his eyes wild, full of hatred.
“Because his stupid father ruined everything for your father. And now you two are about to ruin everything for us. I’ve paid my dues. It’s time I get what’s mine.”
“What are you talking about?”
His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, “I know you called the Piersons.”
Oh shit. My eyes widen, and he takes that as confirmation.
“You see, when you’ve been in this business as long as we have, you have people planted on the inside of most of the companies you work with.” The knife presses a bit further into my neck.
“And imagine my surprise when I get a call that my dear old Goddaughter was being a whistleblower. Trying to save them from destruction. Your name is on that contract, Scar.”
The nickname hits harder the second time. I remember the day he gave it to me. Said I was malicious, ruthless, did whatever I needed to, just like the damn lion. “Which is exactly why I did what needed to be done.”
He nicks my skin, blood pebbles on my neck, slowly sliding down to rest in the hollow of my throat.
“No, but it’s exactly why I have to finish it.
We’ve worked a long time to keep this under wraps.
It won’t be you, of all people, who ruins it.
You could have stood at the top with us, but now…
” He shrugs, “Now, you’ll join the last man who tried to stop us. ”
I don’t have time to react because two things happen at once: Abby and two of the Hawks trainers run into the bathroom, and I’m quickly hit somewhere between my eye and my temple with the handle of the knife that had been pressed to my throat moments ago.
Abby’s frantic, “Help her, I’ll get him.” It's the last thing I hear before my head hits the sink on the way to the floor. Please don’t let him hurt Lucas. My heart begs
“Lettie…” My shoulders shake, the voice sounds so far away.
“Lettie.” Closer this time, is that a hint of panic? Am I dreaming?
“Shit, Lettie, get up. Monroe is going to lose his mind if they come back at the start of the next period and you’re still gone.”
Lucas? My eyes fly open, meeting Hannah’s tear-stained face. “Oh, thank God.” Her arms fly around my shoulders. The coldness of the bathroom tile is gone, looking around, I’m met with the Tennessee Knights logo and a bunch of athletic equipment.
“I called in a favor.” Abby’s voice shakes from where she’s leaning against Tate in the corner. His arms are wrapped around her shoulders, but both of their eyes are heavy on me. “Are you okay?”
“Forget about me,” panic flares as I jump off the table they laid me on, only for the world to spin and me to collapse on the floor for the second time today. “Damn it.”
I look up at Abby, “Did you get him?” My voice comes out so soft that it wavers, afraid of the answer I already know she’ll give me.
“No,” she comes to sit next to me, “but you’ve got a slit cheek and a gnarly black eye.”
I cringe, “Guess I can’t hide them, can I?”
She shakes her head, “I need to clean the cut.” I nod, giving her permission to do whatever.
“I texted Elliott,” Tate breaks the silence. “He’s tracking his phone and bank statements.” His thumbs hook into the silver chain that hangs around his neck.
“Says they get sloppy when they’re desperate.”
Abby finishes as the rest of us sit in silence. Hannah’s pacing mirrors her husband's from last night. “What do we do now?” I ask, feeling around my face, gauging what’s been done.
“We don’t let them win,” Tate says, stepping between the three of us. He surprises the hell out of me when his arms close around us all. “We go enjoy the game, then when we get home, we rain hellfire.”
Hmm, I like that idea.
The family area hums with excitement. Hannah says it’s way more exciting at home games, and I can’t wait to hold her to that.
Seeing him play today, even with what happened, was such a cool experience.
Getting to see him play the game he wanted to go pro in when he was nine, now killing it, scoring twice, all with a gorgeous smile on his face.
I’ve never wanted to be a mouthguard so bad. The way he chewed on it, half hanging out of his mouth as his tongue moved it around. I’m not sure it would have actually done its job had someone hit him in the mouth. But, I digress, that’s what I’m going as for Halloween next year.
I clock him the moment he emerges from the locker room, hair damp, neck still flushed from the game. He spots me instantly, his face immediately breaking into the most dazzling smile. And for a second, I forget all about my so-called godfather, the feel of the knife, and the threat he laid down.
That is, until he gets close enough to really see me, he goes still. He slowly removes my hat, eyes darting over the damage. The skin varying shades of red and pink, then add the butterfly bandaid Abby put on, and you’ve got, well, this.
“What the hell happened?” His voice cuts through the chatter, demanding enough that a few heads turn.
“It’s nothing,” I say, reaching for my hat to pull it back over my head. But he’s ripping it from my hand, tilting my head back with his thumb before I can move.
“Scarlett,” My name comes out low and tight, like a shimmering livewire. “Who did this to you?”
I step back, blood rushing through my ears, “Not here, Lucas.”
His whole body goes rigid, the muscle in his jaw jumps under the pressure. “Lettie…” He drags both hands through his hair, dropping his bag from his shoulder before he looks back at me, eyes sharp and filled with tears all at once.
“You sat there, this whole time. Like this…” He motions to the hat. “While I was–” He shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling before continuing. “I skated around like everything was hunky dory?”
My hand lands on his forearm, “It wasn’t your fault,” I whisper.
“The hell it isn’t!” His hand slams against the wall. Every head turns, but he doesn’t notice the audience we have. “I made a promise to you. I said I’d protect you as long as I was around, and I didn’t.”
I flinch, he catches it, and immediately deflates. His breath shudders as he takes a step closer, pulling me into his chest, “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me.”
His head rests on top of mine, his thumbs brushing small circles over the backs of my arms. “You’re shaking,” he whispers.
I swallow hard, tipping my head back to meet his heavy gaze. “He’s gone.”
His brow furrows, “He?”
“My godfather, Damien,” I force out, the name tasting bitter on my tongue. “He showed up, said it was time I fixed everything I 'ruined’.”
Lucas’s chest expands like he’s seconds from exploding. He takes a small step back, releasing me from his hold. “Tate already called Elliott,” I add, trying to keep him from ripping the place apart to find him. The last thing any of us needs is an article about violent hockey players.
“Where is he?” Sammy bellows through the hallway, his shoulders pulled up to his ears, scanning the room until he meets my confused gaze. He stomps over, pulling the hat off my head much like Lucas did, with a hell of a lot less finesse. “What the… Why I oughta…”
“Calm down, Daffy.” That earns me a reluctant grin. “I don’t know where he went, but if Elliott is as good as you guys keep telling me he is, he’ll find him.”
“I fixed her up real nice,” Abby says, elbowing her way into our circle.
Lucas pouts, “I’m mad at you.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Her mouth falls open, “Why? I ran into the bathroom to get her. He would have done way worse if I hadn’t.”
“She shouldn’t have been alone anyway. What were you guys thinking?” he counters.
I clear my throat, drawing both of their eyes, “I’m right here. I’m an adult, and I make my own decisions.” I turn to Lucas, “I told her she didn’t need to go with me. I didn’t expect him, of all people, to be here, or to be part of whatever’s going on, but here we are.”
Turning to face Abby, I pull her into a hug. “Thank you for realizing something was wrong, and for saving my ass. I owe you one.”
She chuckles, “No, just marry the big doof over here, and we’ll call it even.”
I feel Lucas behind me, and heat travels up my neck in a way that excites me. This isn’t the first time she’s brought this up, and I can’t deny I like the sound of it even more now than I did the first time she said it.
When I glance over my shoulder, he’s already looking at me. The cheesy smile that I’ve loved for most of my life stares back at me. My lips curve before I can stop them, slow and small. “I like the sound of that,” I murmur, closing the distance between us.
I run my hands up his chest, wrapping them around his shoulders, “What do you think?”
He bends, wrapping his hands around the back of my thighs, lifting me off the floor before pressing a kiss to my lips. “I think that as soon as we get this figured out, I’m going to ask you a question, and your answer better be ‘yes’.”
I laugh, a raw, joyous sound. “Let's go home then. There’s a mystery to solve and a man to marry.”
He doesn’t wait for anyone else to respond before he throws me over his shoulder, running down the hallway toward the exit. “Wait, what about your bag?” I ask between peals of laughter.
“Ehh, Sammy will get it.” He says as he presses me against the wall next to the exit. “I love you,” he whispers before he leans in, running his tongue over the seam of my lips.
I kiss him back, gentle and certain. “Don’t get me all hot and bothered when you can’t do anything about it, Goldie.”
His eyes darken, tongue running over where mine had just been. “You underestimate me, Lettie Girl.”
“God, if you two go any further in a very public hallway, I’m going to have to bleach my eyeballs.
” Sammy walks past us with two bags full of hockey gear slung over his shoulder.
He pushes through the door with his eyes screwed shut and both his hands out in front of him as if to feel where he’s going.
Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. And I wouldn’t trade it for a damn thing. Peace wrapped in chaos, a life I’m proud to call my own.