Page 104 of The Break Out

Chandler and Spencer chuckle and I just groan.

“Seriously, though, what do you want?” Spencer asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as I lean my head against her.

“I want that stupid hockey player,” I grumble gesturing toward the screen.

“But you don’t trust him?” she pries.

Sighing I say, “I thought I didn’t, but I’ve seen another side of him I don’t think he’s let anyone see before and…dammit.”

“You want to get him back?” Chandler smiles widely.

“Yeah. What do I do, though?”

Audrey’s smile is almost sinister when she says, “I have a plan.”

I’m equally intrigued and scared of her plan, but I know before I can do anything she’s suggesting, I’m going to have to settle one more thing in my life. Because I’m sick of keeping secrets and being one.

If we’re doing this, I don’t need any more drama standing in the way of it.

44

We got back to Denver last night and I used to love to come home to my quiet empty house, but as soon as I walked in, the silence was too loud and I was missing something. No, someone.

I still haven’t heard from Brynn and I’m thinking I never will. Part of why I got in that fight against the asshole from the Spartans was in hopes that she was watching and would reach out afterwards.

That, and the fact that he was chirping so much I wanted to see if he could back up his shit talk. Turns out he couldn’t.

After sitting in my house for all of an hour, the quiet becomes too much. I grab the keys to my bike and take off on a drive around the city just to fucking feel something.

It’s when I saw the lights from a tattoo shop that I make a split second decision. I don’t give a shit if anyone thinks I’ll regret it. I don’t give a flying fuck if Brynn nevertalks to me again, she’s carved her place in my heart so might as well ink a piece of her on my skin.

“You sure about this one, man?” the artist asks after placing the stencil.

“Fuck yeah I am.”

The next morning,I get to practice, completely exhausted because after I finally got home I still couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned until the sun came up. Now here I am, changing into my gear, carefully pulling on my pads over my new ink. It’s covered with a thin piece of Saniderm, but I’ve gotten enough tattoos and played hockey the next day that shit rubbing against them can be a bitch.

Out on the ice I throw myself into the drills, using this as a distraction before I have to go home to my empty house once again.

I grow increasingly agitated at every minor thing I’m yelled at by Coach. I’m fucking tired and miserable enough, I get that I’m not my best right now. But my last straw is when Collee snaps at me to pull my shit together.

Fuck it. I have nothing else left to lose.

“Say shit to me again, Collee, I didn’t fucking hear you,” I snap, already ready to toss my gloves across the goddamn ice.

“Practice like you actually want to be here,” he barks.

And that’s fucking it.

“I don’t want to be here; I want to be in bed with your sister. I can still hear her screaming my name.”

He’s grabbing my practice jersey within a second, with his fist flying into my face. I hardly feel the pain because it feels good to feel something in this moment. And it feels even better to finally see the “perfect” Captain lose his shit.

“You motherfucker,” he seethes with another punch to my jaw.

“No, just your sister.” I can’t help myself and it earns me another hit, my lip splitting open once again, but I want the pain. I want to keep pissing him off.

I’m gripping his jersey to keep him from tackling me onto the ice, but my own attempts at blows don’t land as hard as his with the way he blocks them.

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