Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(76)

Our gazes lock together and I’m taken back to that night, that house party where I saw her across the kitchen and our eyes met. If I could go back to that night, I’d accept her invitation to go upstairs and I would never let her go after that. She would’ve been mine, for real. Forever.

“Hi, Skylar.” I can’t take my eyes off her.

“Hi.” Her lips part and her eyes are brimming, like she wants to say something. But there are people around us and I have to get to practice.

I hate it that she looks so sad. I don’t know if any of it’s because of me. I know she has a lot of other shit going on. But I hate it. With a last regretful look, I lift a hand and turn to leave. My chest aches and I sigh as I trudge out of the building and cross the Quad to the parking lot where I left my truck.

In the dressing room at the ice complex, I change into shorts and go into the gym to ride the bike for a while, warming up my leg muscles. We’ve got a lighter practice schedule this week, as guys are writing exams. Our next regular game isn’t until January, but we have that tournament in Florida at the end of the month.

Some guys are there already, warming up, getting minor injuries looked at by the trainers and assistant coach. Alfie is reviewing some video with our assistant coach, Art, nodding as Arty talks about butterfly recovery.

Black Jack walks in and his gaze lands on me right away. “Hey, *.”

I ignore him. I don’t answer to “*.”

He walks up and stops in front of me. “What the f*ck was that Saturday night?”

I look up at him. He’s got a couple inches on me when we’re standing; with me sitting on the bench in front of my cubby, he’s huge. My gut tenses. “That was you being an idiot.”

“That was you cock-blocking me.”

“That girl was drunk.”

“She’s a slop tart.”

A red haze floats in front of my vision. “You’re a douche.” I surge to my feet, hands fisting.

“When did you turn into some kind of *? You think we don’t know about you?”

Buck walks up behind Black Jack, his forehead creased and mouth tight. I meet his eyes briefly and he shakes his head, telling me he hasn’t told anyone.

Whatever. It’s all over the Internet. It’s a wonder it’s taken this long for it to come out.

I swallow. “You don’t know shit about it.”

“I know you watched a lamb roast. Your two buddies f*cked that girl.”

Okay, that’s just wrong, because I wasn’t even there when it happened, so I sure as hell didn’t watch, and none of that made it into public news stories. How the f*ck do rumors like that get started? And make it this far away?

“So where do you get off cock-blocking me, huh?”

“She was drunk.” I take a step toward him and we’re nose to nose. “Are you that stupid? She was too drunk to consent. That’s called rape, jackass.”

Black Jack shrugs. “She wanted it. And if she tried to accuse me of rape, no one would believe her. I’m a hockey player. Chicks all want to f*ck us.”

I knew there was a reason I hated this guy. Red heat bursts inside me and without even thinking, my arm draws back and I lay my fist into his nose. Hard.

“Ow! Fuck!” Black Jack’s hands go to his face and he staggers back.

Oh shit. He’s bleeding.

I shake my throbbing hand.

Black Jack lowers his hands and stares at the blood, then lifts incredulous eyes to my face. “You did not just f*cking do that.” And he charges at me.

Buck grabs him, but Black Jack throws him off and then he’s slamming me into the wooden cubby. My spine hits the edge of it and pain explodes through me. Then he tries to punch me.

I’m not a regular fighter, but I know how to throw down, and all the weights I’ve been doing since last spring have made me strong. The rush of adrenaline and fury through my bloodstream also helps, and I manage to shove him back and lay a few hits of my own, cracking one against his jaw. He lands one on my temple and I have to shake off dizziness.

Guys are all yelling and swarming around us now, running in from everywhere, and it’s Buck and Soupy who manage to drag Black Jack away, while Rocket grabs my arms and says, “Easy, slugger.”

I meet Buck’s eyes, which are flashing, his face tight. “You okay?” he mouths.

I nod and my gaze goes back to Black Jack, blood streaming down his face, both of us glaring at each other, both our chests heaving. I want to pummel his ugly face. He is such a f*cking *. Rage boils inside me.

I know the guys are stopping us from doing something really stupid, but good sense is washed away by hormones. I gulp air into my lungs.

Coach runs in and stands next to us, his face thunderous. “What the f*ck is going on here?”

I flick my gaze to him, suddenly aware that it might be too late to stop me from doing something stupid. And I could be in deep shit.

I swallow, my throat constricted. Jesus. I’m the one who’s supposed to be on my best behavior. I’ve been trying so hard to stay out of trouble and now I’ve screwed up and fought one of my own teammates, one of our senior players, possibly breaking his nose.

I am so f*cked.





Chapter 28


Skylar


I walk into the meeting room at SAPAP. I look at Victoria. “What was Jacob doing here?”