Chapter 50
CHAPTER FIFTY
boston
I lean against the bar on my elbow. There’s an underlying simmering of adrenaline in my blood tonight, keeping me on edge.
I shouldn’t be drinking, but I have already downed two whiskeys to try and keep myself zen.
It’s the preseason party, our annual event where we reconvene as a team, and our captain isn’t even in attendance.
Saltzy should be here, but he’s not.
Because of Morgan Fucking Danford.
Penny and Lowesy still haven’t arrived. I think I’ll be able to relax once I see them.
The score isn’t mine to settle, but I don’t know how I’ll react if I see Morgan or Danford before they get here.
I’m furious. It’s a constant sting, thinking about how Saltzy is staying home because of this. Because of her.
Forker steps up beside me, slapping his hand onto my shoulder, a tight smile on his mouth and fury rippling in his eyes. I’m worried about him, too. He’s wound so fucking tight he might snap before anything is settled, and that is not the plan. That might send the plan to shit, to be honest.
Forker is going to set this place on fire, Declan is going to add the gasoline, and I’m going to lock the doors behind us.
Penny? She’ll be the one dragging Morgan into the blaze.
I sat up all night, my bed empty and cold.
Absent was a familiar body next to mine.
You’d think I’d cherish the moments without cold feet being pressed to my legs, or without waking up to a huge wave of blonde hair nearly suffocating me, but I missed the hell out of it.
I couldn’t stop thinking about this, about how fucked this is.
Morgan tried to sell Cap’s sexuality to a podcast. She tried to…
I don’t know? Ruin his career? Like who he loves somehow makes him a shitty hockey player? A poor captain?
All for, what? Money? Fun?
I can’t grasp her angle other than being a stone-cold bitch, but it ends tonight. It has to. There isn’t a plan, per se, but there is the outline of one. We all know that something is going to happen, a conversation is going to be had, but it’s Penny who will be the driving force behind it.
I’m the guy with the receipts in my pocket, so I’ll be close behind.
Arden slides me a tequila shot, even though she hates them, and passes another one to Fork.
I think it’s an act of solidarity. We clink our glasses together, Arden with a nervous look, and down them.
For good luck, maybe. She cringes as Carter wipes his mouth, shaking it off, just in time for a blonde in an elegant black dress to walk into the ballroom.
Lowesy is right behind her, hand in his pocket, scanning the room. He finds us quickly, and with a hand on his wife’s back, he guides her straight to us. They’re trying their best to look casual, but Penny’s face displays all of her feelings, as it usually does.
Arden takes one look at her friend, lets out a breath, and waves at the bartender for more shots. She hurriedly passes them to Lowesy and Penny when they reach us. Penny looks exceptionally grateful, not bothering to wait for her husband as she throws hers down the hatch.
We’re all a bit on edge tonight.
I pop a gum in my mouth. Coping mechanism, I guess.
“Hey.” Dec dips his chin. He takes his shot, scanning the three of our faces. “How is everyone feeling?”
“Like hitting someone,” Fork says instantly.
“Well, she’s a woman,” Penny bites out, shooting him a look. “So I have dibs.”
I smack my gum, dragging a hand over my face. This is going to be a long night. This might be a bloody night. Internally. For our team. It’s a civil fucking war.
“I don’t want to be here,” Arden breathes out.
“Me neither,” I mumble.
“I do,” Lowesy, Penny, and Fork say in unison.
We all break into amused smiles, the tension evaporating just enough to let us breathe.
There was a discussion about the group of us skipping this event and that being the first statement we made.
We wouldn’t show up for anything unless Danford and his wife were nowhere near it, but that idea was quickly shot down.
Lowesy was scared that if we did it that way, the first time Penny saw Morgan again would be on her own, and we’d wind up having a murder on our hands.
“How’s he doing?” I ask, leaning against the bar next to Arden.
“They’re both fine,” Lowesy says. “That doesn’t make it fair.”
“No,” I agree. “It doesn’t.”
“Grab me a vodka water with a teensy splash of lime juice!”
We all whirl toward that voice. The nails on a chalkboard effect it creates has always been specifically identifiable. Emma is the one walking toward the bar with Luka’s hand in hers, but it’s Morgan by the doorway who is calling out to her minion to do her bidding.
She pauses when all our heads snap in her direction, startled, but she just lifts her hand and waves with a phony fucking smile as if it’s any other day.
And Penny is gone.
“Fuck,” Declan hisses, scurrying after her.
The rest of us jump into action, following them hurriedly. We abandon our drinks and push past groups of people, avoiding greetings and handshakes. There is a lion on the attack, and she’s about to catch the snake in her jaws.
Penny slams her purse down on one of the tables just before we reach them.
Morgan’s eyes widen at the crazed look on her face, and Tom’s smile morphs into a look of utter confusion at whatever he sees.
Penny’s hand is suddenly wrapped in the back of Morgan’s hair, and I physically use my body to shield what’s happening from the rest of the room.
Forker, catching my drift, jumps into position beside me.
Tom steps forward as Penny pushes Morgan out of the door by her hair, his mouth opening to scold her for mishandling his wife. Big mistake. Within a second, Declan’s fists are buried in the fabric of his suit and he’s hauling him into the hallway right behind his wife.
Fork and I share a look. Don’t get between the crew. Ever.
We storm into the hall after them, gently shutting the doors behind us to prevent an audience. Just as the door clicks, Penny shoves Morgan’s head away from her. It’s a violent move, one that rips Morgan’s dark hair in ten different directions and pushes her a few steps away.
Morgan reaches for her head with a wince.
The scene belongs in the fucking Louvre.
Penny is all sharp edges and angles, dressed in a high-necked, black gown with full-length sleeves. Her hair is pulled back into a twisted bun at the nape of her neck, which shows off every inch of the rage on her face. Those eyes are the eye of a hurricane, and Morgan’s in the center of it.
And she is cowering.
“What the fuck?” Morgan cries, rubbing the back of her head. She looks to her husband, who Declan finally drops back onto his feet. “Tom!”
“You are so fucking lucky that I’m not an American citizen,” Penny snarls, shoving her finger in Morgan’s face.
She storms forward, making Morgan scurry back a step, and the pride I feel for knowing Penelope Lowes skyrockets.
She’s terrifying if she’s not on your side.
“Because I am not willing to get sent back to Canada before I get to enjoy being married to my husband.”
“What are you talking about?” Morgan screeches, her brown eyes wild. “You’re insane!”
“My god, do you ever shut up?” Forker groans, throwing his head back.
Tom’s eyes snap to him. “Watch it.”
Fork smirks at him, raising his eyebrows. “Or what?”
“I want you to listen to me very carefully,” Penny says, stepping forward again.
She gets right in Morgan’s face. She towers over her, and it makes Morgan look as small and spineless as she is.
“I know what you did. I know who you are. You’re just as pathetic as I thought you were the moment I met you. But does your husband know?”
I glance at Tom. His brow furrows, and he slowly drags his eyes away from the girls to us. “What’s going on?”
It’s the fear that washes over Morgan that confirms everything, and Penny sees it.
Tom doesn’t have a fucking clue.
“Your wife has been feeding stories about your teammates to the press,” she bites out, eyes still locked on Morgan. Tom’s face goes through ten emotions before cold, hard realization washes over him. “And she tried to do the same to my friend.”
Morgan swallows, glancing at Tom quickly, as if she’s too afraid that Penny will strike if she looks away for too long. “That’s not true.”
“Save it,” I murmur, forcing myself to sound bored, even though I want to go nuclear on her for playing dumb. “I have all the proof on my phone. You’re done.”
“What the fuck did you sell?” Tom bellows, storming forward. “That shit about Forker?”
Morgan looks back to Penny, her nerves evident.
“I swear to god,” Penny says quietly, eyes burning into her face.
“If I hear you mutter either of their names ever again, I will make it my personal mission to destroy your life. If I hear a peep about this before they discuss it publicly themselves, I’ll know it was you, and that will be your death sentence.
You might have been here the longest, but I’m the one the public loves.
I have all the power. That Instagram career of yours will be gone before you can fucking blink. ”
“I—I didn’t,” Morgan stammers.
Arden nods along with every word, a proud smile on her mouth.
“What the fuck did you do?” Tom asks her quietly, his tone a blend of concern and fury.
Declan is glaring at Morgan too. He’s letting Penny do her thing; but every single ounce of the rage that is currently coursing through his wife is also running through him.
Her shoulders are rising and falling with how hard she’s trying to keep herself calm.
One wrong move, one wrong word, and Morgan is going down.
We all agreed not to let it get that far.
Only Morgan loses here, not Penny. Morgan will definitely be one to press charges if Penny swings.
Arden slowly reaches beside her to take Forker’s hand, and I wonder if he’s waiting to be tapped in.
“Do you understand me?” Penny seethes.