The big monster snuffles as he sleeps. When I try to pull away from him, he senses it, summoning a cement grip even in his highly drugged sleep.
“Tate, let go.”
“Mine,” he murmurs. “Mine, mine, mine.”
God, he’s like a happy murderous little koala.
Guess I’m not going anywhere for a while. But, eventually, whatever he’s on will take him further under, and I’ll make my escape.
27
TATE
The team shouts, voices echoing off the locker room walls.Ouch.Not good for my head. My brain pulses in time with my heart as if it’s trying and succeeding at breaking through my skull.
My head pounded like a deathcore metal band through yesterday’s semifinal, and it’s back for an encore in the conference championship. Somehow, I have to act like everything’s fine, meanwhile, my insides feel like they’ve been scorched with acid and stabbed with needles. Whatever the fuck they injected me with fried my insides. I guess I don’t blame them for using something strong. Probably specially made just for me. If you’re going to take Tate VanCourt down, it’d better be powerful enough to sedate an elephant.
Still, sucks for my organs.
We’re about to take to the ice. As McKinnon passes by, he whispers, “Everything okay, Coach?”
“Yeah, fucking dandy, McKinnon. Go win the game.”
I don’t have time for his cheerfulness today. I haven’t been this much of a mess since my first week at college.
Luke is somewhere in the stands. I’m going to grind my teeth down to nothing, thinking about it. I lean against the boards,glad that this game won’t boil down to my coaching skills with how distracted I am thinking about Luke.
Wait a second, what’s happening over there? Sometime between them hitting the ice, and me daydreaming, Ryan skated over to McKinnon while the rest of their teams warmed up. I don’t like how close they are, and a low growl starts in my chest. If McKinnon doesn’t get his face away from?—
Did Ryan just pull out his cuff? Yeah, he did. What the fuck are they bickering about? Ryan shoves. McKinnon looks like he’s about to rip Ryan’s helmet off.
I cup my hands around my mouth. “McKinnon!” I point toward where the rest of the team is doing warmups. Where he should fucking be. Not picking fights with my husband. “Shoot pucks in net.”
He gives me an apologetic look, but he’s only sorry he got caught. My gaze follows said husband. The ice is his sanctuary, so I don’t expect to see much on his face that would give him away, but he won’t fucking look at me.
I was supposed to give him the damn phone I brought for him, which I’m pretty sure fell out when I was doing … cartwheels, and then maybe I’d have a read on him, but I fell asleep. He left via another route, so Ethan didn’t get the chance to correct my fuck up. So, I don’t know why he left. Did he hear someone coming? Did he have to get back? Was it what I said?
Fuck me.
Something’s off. I study everything during the first faceoff—his body language, the way he carries the puck, all seems usual. But it’s not. And fucking goddammit, I can’t pinpoint what. I can’tdoanything about it.
Frustrating.
I massage my head. Wish there were a way to massage my brain.
The period opens with a barely legal shoulder check by the raging bull otherwise known as my husband, playing as if he’s playing in my murder hockey league. His friends aren’t much better, and it’s a party in the penalty box, three of them, including Ryan.
It’s the last game of the tournament, though. Whoever wins this gets an automatic bid into the national tournament, which means there’s going to be enough testosterone on that ice to spawn a whole new species of caveman.
That could explain the extra vengeance in Ryan’s eyes.
The violence continues. Blood spills onto the ice. It seems to kick up a frenzy. More penalty box parties, sometimes four guys in there at the same time. This game has been a never-ending penalty. But at least McKinnon managed to score us a goal. He skates over to the bench at the end of his shift.
“What the fuck is going on out there, McKinnon?”
“I dunno, man. He’s crashing out or something. Won’t stay off my ass, Coach,” he says with way too much innuendo.
I know he’s just trying to get a rise out of me, I know how totally consumed he is with my brother, but he’s going to be a stain on the ice if he keeps that shit up. He’s only safe now because of my brother. I care less and less about this game by the second.
