Page 50 of Tempest

“Will this be one of those self-governing things that you talked about?”

“Mmm, one of our guys will be on that kid’s ass as soon as he leaves the box.”

We score a goal on this power play thing, but as soon as the guy’s penalty minutes are up, he beelines it for the puck. Vaughn gets on the ice at the same time and heads straight for him, dropping his gloves in the process.

“Oh, shit,” Sadie says.

“Sadie,” Isla warns but not too harshly.

“Sorry, Mom. Oh! Kick his butt, Vaughn!”

They trade blows, the kid getting a few body shots off on Gavin, but nothing in the face. It’s the other way around for Vaughn, though, and soon, the kid is on the ice with Gavin atop him. The officials let it go for a minute before interfering and pulling them off each other. Gavin spits at the kid’s feet before he skates over to the box. The other guy gets another penalty, too, and the rest of the game, he plays much cleaner.

“It’s like gang rules,” I say.

“A little bit, yeah,” Tori agrees. “Honor goes a long way in this sport.”

Honor. It’s not a word I would have associated with Gavin before. But that would have been my broken heart talking. It was honorable of him to stick by Caroline and to make sure his daughter had the best he could offer.

The question that always plagued me was why couldn’t he have given them what they needed without marrying her. I know the biggest part was financial. Then when I’d heard he’d been drafted and he was making plenty of money, I hoped that maybe the situation would change.

I’d waited for four years, dreaming of him showing up at my doorstep, begging for another chance. But that didn’t happen, either. As more years went by, I settled on the fact that it was never going to happen. There would never be a day that Gavin showed up at my door full of regret.

Until now, anyway. But now is too late. Those fantasies of him fighting for me died a long time ago. Now, the only fantasies I have of Gavin Vaughn are of his head between my thighs after a long game of him fighting.

Because holy hell was that the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

16

Gavin

Tori told me she was at the game last night. I didn’t know until after, when Tori texted to say she wasn’t waiting for me. But that didn’t lessen the boost to my ego from just knowing she’d come to watch.

I wish I’d seen her, though.

This feels like progress, like maybe she’s not fully opposed to me in her life. She said she could offer me friendship, but the sadness in her voice made me believe that wasn’t exactly true.

I’ve mostly backed off the past couple of weeks while we’ve been on the road, but we’re home now, and I happen to have two days without games.

“Gavin,” she answers when I call, hoping to spend time with her.

“Odette,” I mimic. “What are you up to?”

“I’m about to be knee-deep in my emotions. Why?”

“I was hoping I could pick you up, take you to lunch. But maybe that’s not what you need right now. What’s going on?”

“Flare-up. I wouldn’t be great company,” she says. I hear the anxiety in her voice and maybe even some fear.

“What do you need, Odette?”

“Rest, I think.” Her voice breaks some, even though she tries to hide it.

“All right, Ode. I’ll check in with you soon.”

She hangs up without another word, only ramping up my worry for her. I don’t know what a flare-up is, exactly, but it doesn’t take long to find the results on Google. Hashimoto flare-up comes up with page after page of symptoms and personal stories from those who suffer.

The most common things being fatigue and cold sensitivity. It’s November, which in the PNW means chilly temps, rain, and the occasional windstorm. I bet that mammoth of a house of hers is impossible to keep heated.

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