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Except he said it just a little too loudly.
“Fun?” Toons said softly, ominously. “Fun... He thinks this is fucking fun? Get your ass in here, Ludo, before I beat the shit out of you myself.”
The referees slid over to the bench and unsurprisingly put both me and Rigby in the box. I’d been slightly worried that it was going to end in a match ban, but fuck them. No one talked about Nova like that.No one.
The game continued, but we were all out for blood now. It was hard and dirty on both sides. Third period came around, and the original defenseman was on Rigby’s line again. Fucking asshole. He was getting in Rigby’s face, saying shit that the refs couldn’t hear. Finally, whatever he was saying got too much for Rigby, and he spun, lifting his stick high and nailing the fucker in the face when he went for the puck.
It could have been an accident, even when they replayed the tapes. They’d both been skating fast, Rigby had turned hard and got the other guy in the face just below his fucking helmet. Straight in the teeth. His mouthguard went flying, and there was blood on his chin.
It could have been an accident—if it wasn’t Rigby, who had better stick control than any person I’d ever met.
Ref called a game misconduct penalty, and Rigby got sent off. Muss argued with the ref that it was a minor penalty, just an accident, but he wasn’t hearing it. One of the rookie IceCap players got subbed in and gameplay resumed, but out of the corner of my eye, I watched Rigby head toward the locker room.
The player he checked was now missing a tooth and on the bench, but it didn't stop him smirking at me.That fucker better hope I don’t catch him in the parking lot, because he’s going to be missing a lot more teeth.
In the end, we scraped by with a win in the last five minutes, and the crowd was still going nuts. It was more like a blood sport than a hockey game, and with one look at Toons’s face, I knew we were in deep shit. I was going to be chewed out by him and Monderra and probably the media.
Let them. Some things were worth fighting for, and Nova was one of them.
All press requests for Rigby or I were denied, and we were sent home in disgrace. Toons said that Monderra wanted to see us the following day, and that was without the possibility of NHL sanctions.
We got home to find it silent. Dev was on the couch, still in his suit pants and dress shirt, a scotch in his hand. He looked us over, and I knew we looked rough.
“Did she see?” Rigby asked roughly. Dev nodded, and my normally happy friend made a wounded noise. “I’m going to bed.”
We both watched him go. My heart hurting, I went to the wet bar in the corner, unlocking the cabinet and pouring myself a drink. Slumping down beside Dev, I let my shoulders curl inward as I buried my head in my hands. “This is bad.”
Dev hummed his agreement. There were no two ways about it. It was bad for our relationship. Bad for our career. It was just… bad.
The clock had hit zero, and now we were playing on borrowed time.
ChapterThirty-Seven
NOVA
I’d already hadthe worst day of my life. Nothing would touch that moment. But this week was shaping up to be a real contender for the worst week of my life. Almost all my clients had ditched me when they’d made the connection between me and the girl they saw on the news. Except for the romance authors—I think they just saw me as inspiration. I’d take it, as long as it meant they stuck around.
The guys were at home, because the team had given them a three-match ban. Sidelining them for three games at the beginning of the season sent a serious message to them, and to their teammates, as well as to the NHL. They were taking this misconduct seriously. I overheard River saying he was worried that they’d pull their contracts at the end of the season, throwing them back into free agency.
I’d done that. I’d been greedy, and this was the result. Sure, I hadn’t thrown a punch, but it was my honor that they’d been defending, like there was any place for that bullshit in modern society. I was the reason their contracts were in peril, all because I couldn’t keep my legs closed.
Magazines and newspaper outlets were hounding me for soundbites and interviews, like I could add anything to the sordid story they’d concocted about me, about my family. Devan kept promising that this would all blow over, but somehow it had gone viral, our unconventional romance, and it felt like it was never going to go away. I needed to get out of this before I was in too deep.
You’re already in too deep, that little voice in my head taunted. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t in love with them. I could get out now with my heart reasonably intact.
That little voice gave a derisive snort at my delusional thoughts, but I refused to listen. Which was why, as the guys were at Rigby’s Player Safety hearing, I packed a bag. One for me. One for Huey.
River had said he’d probably get a four-match ban without pay for unsportsmanlike conduct, and another fine for high-sticking. That was thousands of dollars, and I knew it looked bad on his record. Hockey might be brutal, and fighting might not be as frowned on as it was in other sports, but they weren’t going to turn a blind eye. This thing we had was killing his dream, but he was too stubborn to quit. I’d be responsible for us all.
I tried not to cry as I loaded our bags into the back of the car that Devan had given me. I’d have to give it back eventually; it didn’t feel right taking things from them when I couldn’t give them what they actually wanted. Or maybe they’d be relieved that I was gone. They could go back to their carefree lives.
I wouldn’t keep them from Huey. We could share custody of him, because he might be a baby but he loved those men. He’d lost enough people in his short life.
I was going to stay at Julieta’s for a couple of nights until I found somewhere for me and Huey to stay, or if I couldn’t find a place to rent, I’d go and stay with Chloe. I could go home, back to Tucson, but the idea of leaving was a physical ache in my soul. Hurrying to click Huey into his car seat, I left the place I’d considered a home as fast as I could. Pulling dark glasses over my eyes, I peeled out of the driveway and away from the photographers that I knew were still there, lurking in the bushes.
As tears streamed down my face, I told myself this was for the best. A small hurt now to prevent a bigger hurt later. This was for the best for all of us. There was no way what we were trying to create would have worked. There were too many outside pressures. The very idea was foolish and utopian. It could never work in the real world.
I repeated that thought process until I drove up to Julieta’s house, stepping out of my car and into the tiny woman’s strong arms.
