Page 118 of The Hat Trick

Collee looks at my phone next and he seems to be lost in thought as he stares at the screen longer than either of us have. I think he’s reading the actual article that I refuse to acknowledge.

The eighteen-minute intermission feels extra short as we are instructed to get ready to go back out there and playing the rest of this game is the last thing I want to do right now. I want to jump in my car and race over to Chandler’s house, take her into my arms and hold her until she knows that everything is going to be okay and that we are going to figure all of this out together.

Too bad that’s not an actual option and I know we have to finish the game, but I vow that if any of those motherfuckers say anything else to me, I won’t hesitate to take them down.

* * *

Despite my headnot being in the gameat all,we played like this was the most important game of our lives and we ended up winning. Barely. But a win is a win and now my entire focus is on Chandler. I pass on the post game interview and I want to skip out on the shower and changing back into my fucking suit, but I know I can’t.

I’m out of the arena in record time and in the garage where Collee and McQuaid clearly did the same thing because they catch up to me as I’m about to climb into my car.

“We need a plan,” Collee says quickly.

“What plan? My plan is to check on our fucking girl,” I tell them both.

“For once, I agree with Dumont, we don’t know what the fuck is going on, or who did this, but we need to talk to Chandler,” McQuaid concedes and I’m so pent up I can’t even appreciate him taking my side for once.

Collee runs his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “I might know who did this.”

“What?” I snap. “Who?”

He hesitates, clenching his jaw and not looking at either of us. “Look, I don’t know for sure. It’s just a guess, but we should talk to her.”

“Do you think it’s someone we know? Someone on the team?” McQuaid asks.

“I don’t know for sure, okay? No, no one on the team. Let’s meet at Chandler’s.” Collee shakes his head, clearly bothered. I don’t question it further right now though.

Jumping into my car I race out of the garage, not stopping for the fans waiting for signatures, I can’t put on a happy face and be Vince Dumont right now. I race down the street and toward my girl with one thing on my mind. I don’t want this to be ruined and I hope I’m not walking into the end of us because we can get through this. We have to.

39

I’m not surprised when three nice ass cars pull up to my house at the same time. I’m also not surprised when three large hockey players are pounding at my front door. I watched the game, even though it made it harder knowing what I was going to have to do, but I wanted to see them.

Then, I saw how they played. Vince and that fight, which was not something I expected to see out of him and the rest of the brutal game as both teams played like they had something to prove. And maybe they did, but I just couldn’t care what that could be right now.

I open the door for them, and they all usher in quickly so I am able to shut and lock the door. I’m glad there hasn’t been any media attention that has found its way to my house and I hope it never does, but I can’t help the air of paranoia right now. I feel like my privacy has been completely compromised and nothing is safe.

“Baby,” Vince says softly, pulling me against his body. I try to remain stiff against him, but it’s difficult to do with those large arms wrapped around me.

I breathe him in, I savor this brief moment knowing it’ll be one of the last. He pulled back to look at my face, and I tried to hide the fact that I’ve been crying. Too bad the red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks are impossible to hide.

“We are going to figure this out, we already have our PR team taking it all down,” he soothes.

I just nod because of course they are, and I hope this doesn’t stick with them through the rest of their career, but for me I feel like the damage is already done and even once it’s erased it’ll never completely go away.

“You know we will do whatever it takes to fix this,” Matt says. I turn to look toward him and take in the seriousness on his face. I also note his lack of calling me “Bunny” which is probably because so many of those comments called me vial things, but some version of “puck bunny” was evident in a lot of them.

I still can’t bring myself to say anything as I pull away from Vince’s embrace more and wrap my arms around myself. Vince’s face falls at the movement. I look away from him, unable to see the hurt in his eyes right now.

I swallow the lump in my throat while I look down at the ground and say what I know I need to. “I’m glad it’s going to be fixed, but I think it’s best if we just don’t do this anymore. At least for a little while. We need to step back and take time away from each other.”

Cautiously, I look at their reactions and instantly regret it. Brent is the only one whose face is controlled, but he looks emotionless. Like he doesn’t care. And that makes it hurt me even more for some reason.

Matt looks pissed off like he’s seconds from exploding.

Vince looks like I just ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped on it.

I do my best to blink back the tears that are threatening to come back and I’m unsuccessful as they pour down my cheeks again. I’m sobbing when I’m pulled against one of them again. Based on the height and scent I know it’s Brent. Which only confuses me more.

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