SEVENTEEN
I know Hanna didn't deserve the way I spoke to her, but keeping her away from me is the only option. If my mother finds out she's more than just a one-night stand, Hanna will be killed and there will be nothing I can do about it.
Climbing out of bed, I crawl my ass to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Once the hot water runs down my body, I relax a little. One thought is still crossing my mind.
Fuck . With playing hockey, I can't be this dead inside. A sharp knock at the door jolts me out of my thoughts. ''Damon! We need to talk!'' Damien booms through the door. Rolling my eyes, I rinse the body wash from my body.
Once the towel is wrapped firmly around my waist, I open the door and face my brother with my arms crossed. ''You were with our mother and Soren for six days. Why?'' he demands.
A laugh bubbles from my throat as I shutter to control myself. ''Is that what she told you? Well, perhaps you should have been there, too. We belong to the famiglia, and we run under our mother. "You missed Soren in action, though." I laugh in his face.
Damien glares at me before his lips pull back in a snarl. "You missed four classes, so yes, it's my business. You're off killing people when you should be focusing on university,'' he barks.
Focusing on university? For fucking what reason?
I laugh again and smirk at him. ''I have it under control. Murdering a few loose ends here and there, yes, but I am not dealing," I reply with no emotion. That's my fucking job! I'm a made man, we kill who needs to be killed.
"You're going to get yourself in trouble with Margarita! And I won’t be able to save you!" he shouts. Why? Especially when it was her damn idea. I roll my eyes at his tone.
I smile, satisfied with myself as I walk to my bedroom, ignoring him. ''You're smoking weed, I can tell. If you go down that road, it's hell coming back out,'' he growls from behind me.
I turn around with a growl on my lips. "I have never smoked in my life, so take a damn step out of my space."
Damien glares at me, his eyes just as dark as mine. ''Get your head out of your ass before you lose absolutely everything," he replies.
Can't lose everything when you have nothing at all to lose.
My lips thin at the comment. ''You done?'' I ask with my arms crossed. Damien stays silent and watches me for a few moments. ''Good. I have shit to do.'' I slam my bedroom door in his face. Another loose end to take care of. But instead, my mother's name flashes across my screen.
"Mother," I reply into the phone. A chill spreads through me when I hear nothing.
"Damon, why are you so interested in this brunette? Weakness gets you killed," she says calmly. Way too calmly. Fuck.
There is no way she put two and two together, right? "Don't know what you're talking about," I reply, clicking end on the call. I don't have time for her shit, especially not when I already have an assignment from her.
Quickly getting dressed, I throw on my leather jacket and pull the back hood over my head before exiting my room and heading downstairs. ''Be home later, don't wait up.''
"Don't forget we have practice today and a game tomorrow," Ace says, looking up from the TV. I nod, shoving my boots on and heading out the door. Once I'm in my car, I slam my gearshift into reverse, speeding out of the driveway and heading toward Lune, the small town Spooner lives in.
Shoving the door to the apartment open, I stalk in and throw a bag of meth at Spooner before plopping down on the sofa. ''Wanna share?'' He smirks at me. I grabbed that for him for the simple fact that he started threatening Hanna's life, though that's not why I'm here.
He's just lucky my gun isn't in his face. I'm taking this slow. My mother wants him dead. If he thinks threatening my family is going to get him anywhere, he better start remembering where my name comes from. "No," I reply, standing with my hands in my pockets.
Spooner laughs, inhaling some smoke from the bat. ''What are you doing here?"
"Loose end," I reply, pulling my gun from my jeans and pointing the barrel at his head. Spooner's eyes widen as he stares at me.
"Stealing from a mafia family doesn't look good on you." I grin, shoving the barrel into his face. Spooner drops the meth bat on the table and watches me. I lean back on the couch, glancing over at the gang leader, and frown.
Spooner eyes me suspiciously before his lips move. "You have a lot of nerve fucking with me," he growls.
"Do I? It was an order to take you out. See you in hell." I grin as I pull the trigger. His blood spatters the floors and my face as his body falls limply on the couch.
Tucking my gun back into my jeans, I head for the door with one last look at the mess I created. That felt better than my artwork with Soren six days ago. Sighing like that was hard, I leave and head to the arena, down to the locker room where everyone awaits.
''Took you long enough,'' Sam pipes up as he ties his skates. I throw up my finger before pulling my bag from the lockers and quickly get dressed. It took me long because I had to go home and scrub blood from my body before I could show up here. When my feet touch the ice, I feel myself wobble.
The fuck? I glance down at my skates and realise they're dull. Fuck my life. ''Saint! Get in line,'' Coach yells as my teammates wait for me. Skating over, I stop beside Nate, who gives me a wary look before his eyes focus on Coach.
We're doing skating drills, and I can feel my stomach bubbling with unease. My skates are dull as fuck, and I'm about to go ass over teakettle. ''Fuck!'' Coach yells from the bench as I end up slamming into the ice when I go to skate. ''Get him off the ice.''
Dull skates are the least of my worries right now, and I'm about to get my ass handed to me. ''Wait in here. He'll wanna talk after practice,'' Chance says as he leaves me alone after hauling my ass off the rink.
Leaning against the bench with my legs out in front of me, I remove my skates and slouch over in defeat. I'm screwed. I've missed so much shit, and this is the one thing that keeps me out of my head most days. Fuck!
Coach is going to kick my ass. Sighing, I crawl my ass back to the bench and wait patiently for practice to end. When I hear laughter and chatter coming down the hall, I know practice has come to an end. Sam eyes me uneasily before he takes a seat by his bag. Ace shakes his head and slams his fist on my helmet.
"Dull skates? What kind of shit is that when I remind you weekly," Ace growls as he sits down. My teammates watch me, their faces filled with disappointment as they get undressed.
Slowly, I remove all my hockey equipment, shoving it into my bag to take home and wash. Damien glares at me as he takes his seat beside me. "I need you to help me get out of this. I’ll explain later," I whisper to my brother. Damien nods as he pulls his jeans up his legs and shoves all his hockey gear away.
''As long as you start pulling your weight instead of our mother's," he replies. I nod, pulling my leather jacket on while buttoning up my black jeans. Getting to my feet, I wait patiently in Coach's office for the wrath. Slouching over in the chair, I ruffle my black hair just as Coach closes the door behind him.
''What the fuck was that?'' he barks.
Closing my eyes, I realise I can just tell him the truth, unlike most times when I miss practice. Focusing my eyes on Coach, I bite my lip. "My skates are dull. I have been out of town, and I forgot to sharpen them."
He nods and slides his hands together. "Better not happen again." I nod and cross my arms over my chest. "Now get out,'' he barks, flipping through papers on his desk.
Getting to my feet, I retreat, closing the door behind me. The locker room is empty, other than Damien, who is patiently waiting for me. ''Let's go.'' I sigh, grabbing my hockey bag and heading for the door. Damien follows closely behind me as we reach my car.
When I put my car into park outside the condo, I inhale when Hanna's brown hair comes into view. Damien eyes me before he leaves me and heads into the house. Hanna makes her way to me, her eyes focused on the ground. ''I know you don't want anything from me,'' she says, standing outside the car.
''Actually, the opposite. I wanna fuck you until you scream.''
Hanna's eyes widen as she watches me. ''I can't. Not after the way you spoke to me in front of everyone,'' she whispers. She means she doesn't know if she can be around me and not know the truth. She also said she doesn't want a relationship because there is too much trauma she has to overcome before she can start living for herself and be with someone.
But my reasoning is fully justified; she wouldn't stop texting me. If I didn’t reply, then why the fuck would she continue? I shake my head as I glance at her.
I nod, climbing out of my car and slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Not much to talk about, then," I reply. It's impossible after knowing what she tastes like. And if she can't forgive me, then maybe she needs to sit on it a bit longer.
She watches me closely for a few minutes before she speaks. ''You want friends with benefits,'' she chokes out. I nod, eying her up and down before my eyes settle on her perfect pair of tits. ''I can't.'' She shakes her head.
Biting my lip, I move my eyes to hers before I speak again. 'Well, it's either being friends that fuck or nothing at all."
Hanna laughs, but there's no humour there. "If you can't even apologise for how you treated me, then there is nothing to talk about." She crosses her arms, her lips thinned. I'm so over the shit in my life that this is one thing I can grant.
I nod quickly before I head toward the door. ''Come to my game tomorrow," I call, ignoring her comment, leaving her beside my car as I enter the house. Sure, that was a dick move, but why should I apologise when she was the one blowing up my phone?
Dropping my hockey bag onto the floor, I make my way to the kitchen. ''Penne chicken Alfredo good for dinner?'' I ask the boys, who are sprawled out on the couch playing COD.
''Definitely,'' Sam replies, clicking his controller. Looking through the cupboards, I pull out the noodles and the Alfredo sauce before going into the fridge and fishing out the chicken.
My mind wanders as I chop the chicken into small pieces. I'm either dead if I tell Hanna the truth or I don't get to have her at all. Plus, she wants her damn apology. Tossing the noodles into the boiling water, I shove the chicken into the oven.
Damien and I will figure it out, we always do. Straining the noodles, I toss the chicken into the pot with the pasta before adding the perfect amount of Alfredo sauce into the mix. ''Dinner,'' I call. All three hockey players come bouncing to the table and take their seats.
Setting the table, I put down the oven mitt while I set the pot of pasta on it. The boys begin digging into the meal while I clean up the kitchen and then settle beside them.
Filling my plate, I dig in and inhale my food. Maybe that's what weed does to you. I'll never know because I'm done with my mother's daily orders, and I'm especially done with her threat on Hanna. Hockey is my focus, that's what I'm going to focus my energy on. Until I stop avoiding my mother.
A smile pulls at the corner of my lips as I watch my brother and my two friends inhale the meal. This is the first time in a week I have sat down for dinner with these three. This is going to stay that way. I won't put my future on hold because a girl got under my skin.