Off the Record (Off #3)(55)

“Won’t,” she clarifies with a whisper. “I won’t blindly follow someone again.”

“Blindly?” I ask sharply. “How are you blindly doing anything? You know me, Ever. You know who I am and what I am. It’s not like I’m asking you to walk off of a cliff without a parachute for me. It’s just f*cking Phoenix.”

She starts shaking her head, back and forth, denying my words. Her eyes are on the bed and I can tell she’s too chicken shit to meet mine.

So I force her. I grab her face with my hands and tilt it up to look at me. “Ever. Don’t do this. Don’t back away from this. Open yourself up to the chance that we have something f*cking amazing here.”

She looks at me and for a second, a brief shining second, I think she’ll relent. Then she just says, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Pulling from my grasp, she shoots off the bed and runs into the bathroom.

I lay back against my pillows and curse to myself. Fuck, f*ck, f*ck.

My mind is racing. How can I get her to see reason? How can I get her to admit she loves me? And then it rolls over me like a tidal wave.

I can’t make her do anything.

She either loves me or she doesn’t. And apparently, she doesn’t.

My body feels like it has been split in two and half of me is lost. The physical pain in my chest is immense. I throw my hand back and punch the headboard. It hurts, but not as much as my chest. I punch it again. And again.

After the fourth punch, I pull my hand back and it’s bleeding. I just stare at it, strangely fascinated by the shredded flesh across my knuckles and the dribble of blood that falls to the sheets. I know I should be concerned over my rash actions, because my hands are my living. If I screw up my hands, my hockey career is over.

And yet...I can’t muster up the strength to even give a shit at this point.

The bathroom door opens, and Ever comes out. She’s dressed and I know she’s leaving me. For good.

I panic and try one last attempt. Jumping from the bed, I cross the room to her. “Please don’t go.”

She won’t look at me, her eyes cast downward and I take in the thick lashes that lay against her cheek. The soft cheek that I won’t be able to kiss anymore.

“Ever...don’t go. Please talk to me.”

She finally drags her gaze up, and there is a sheet of tears in her eyes. It hits me...I’ve never seen her cry before. I wonder if she does it alone in private. But then I wonder no more, because with a few hasty blinks of her eyes, the tears are gone.

“Linc...I don’t deserve your goodness. And you don’t deserve my badness. I am damaged goods. And I tried...I really did. I wanted to be able to let you in so bad. But I’m just not emotionally able to.”

Rage surges through me. I want to hurt her as bad as she’s hurting me right now. “That’s f*cking bullshit, Ever and you know it. You see...I got you figured out. You are just like your father. The man that you constantly vilify for his actions. Well, you’re no better than he is. You’re a coward, just like your old man. Plain and simple. At least your dad admitted it.”

Ever gasps at my words. Although I immediately regret them to some degree, my hurt and pain are still driving me.

I go ahead and put the nail in the coffin. “You’re right, Ever...you don’t deserve my goodness. You’re too addicted to your own misery and I’m not going to let it drag me down.”

I turn away from her and head into the bathroom, softly shutting the door behind me.

Standing at the bathroom sink, I look at myself in the mirror. The man staring back at me has just been broken. I feel almost completely numb from head to toe. Except for that nagging ache, right in the center of my chest.

Reaching into the bottom cabinet, I pull out some peroxide and bandages. I methodically clean my hand, gingerly poking at the bones and I don’t think it’s broken. I apply the bandage, flexing my hand a few times to make sure the tape is gripping hard enough to stay on.

I walk out of the bathroom and wander through the condo. It’s quiet.

I know before I even get to her room that it will be empty.

I stare at the empty closet and blessedly, the numbness remains. Walking into the kitchen, I see she has left my house key on the counter. There’s no note, but then again, I didn’t expect one. She was gone too quickly.

Anger continues to course through me. I know Ever may not have been ready to return the depth of feeling that I have for her, but she should have been strong enough to see this through. I know, deep down, that she feels something very strong for me. It may not be love, or hell, maybe it is but she’s too afraid to say it. But when it boils down to it, that really has nothing to do with me asking her to go to Phoenix. I was really asking her to just continue down this path with me.

After the phone call from the agent that sealed my fate, I had originally figured on staying around New York for a few weeks. There was no immediate rush to get out to Phoenix.

Now? I can’t leave fast enough. I take out a pad of paper from a kitchen drawer and start making a to-do list of things that I’ll need to accomplish tomorrow.

1. Call realtor to list condo

2. Go visit Dad and Nix

3. Hire moving company

4. Pack clothes





5. Make plane reservation


Simple. Five easy steps to leaving Ever behind. I feel like the faster I can put distance between us physically, maybe the faster I can move on with my life.