Page 104 of Brutal Game

34

Aviva

It’s setting up Jack for a great career in the NHL, so he can accomplish every single thing he’s dreamed of since he was that scrawny teenager on the ice…

I sat next to Jack, his warm, strong thigh pressed against mine as he gripped my hand tight. I was reeling after his speech, and Coach Jensen’s closing words. As much as I hated the topic of Jack’s speech, I was proud of him. He’d stumbled a few times—why, I wasn’t sure—but he’d given a passionate, eloquent, rousing speech. If I didn’t know better, I’d begin to love his coach as much as he did, based on his hero worship.

Jack lifted my hand to press a kiss to my knuckles. I tried once again to pull away, but he just gripped it harder, nipping my middle finger with his teeth in reprimand. I looked over at him, his eyes were swimming with thoughts I couldn’t follow. Anger and…confusion? Sorrow? Determination? I wasn’t sure, because I’d never been able to read him as well as he read me.

“You did great,” I murmured to him, unable to not share how proud I was of him, despite how upset I was.

…so he can accomplish every single thing he’s dreamed…

I hadn’t felt this at cross-purposes with my tormentor-slash-boyfriend since we’d first faced off in the locker room. God, that felt like years ago, and only yesterday, all at once. If I got justice for Asher, it meant taking Joshua Jensen down. But without their coach, with the scandal and resulting scrutiny, could Jack still take his team to the Frozen Four? Win the championship? Be first in the draft?Accomplish all his dreams?Or would I take that all away from him. Was I going to have to choose between my brother’s peace and my boyfriend’s future?

Suddenly, the room felt hot, claustrophobic.

I tried to tug my hand away. “I need air.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said, rising from his chair, still gripping my hand.

“No!” The word was like a slap. Jack flinched, and I softened my tone. “Please, I need to get air alone.Please.”

He scanned my eyes, then slowly released my hand. “Okay, but when you come back, we’re going to dance.”

I nodded. I couldn’t even worry about it, I needed air. Before, being around him meant I didn’t care if I sacrificed breathing; now I couldn’t go one more second without it.

I stumbled away from him, hurrying through the room, passing elegant couples on the dance floor as a small string band played a rendition of Chinchilla’s “1:5” which was a weird but depressingly apt accompaniment to my current emotions.

Down a hallway, past Judah and Levi, who were talking about something in harsh whispers, and then out the side door into a small garden similar to the one behind HallisterHall. Once I was outside, I sat down on a wooden bench, gasping for breath.

Too much. This was too much. Angry, helpless tears fell. I understood the latter emotion, but not the former. Who was I angry with? The coach, certainly. Was I upset with Jack, who’d hurt me in so many ways but not more than when he refused to believe me? But who felt such obvious, understandable loyalty to the man who’d changed his life for the better and would help him gain everything he wanted in life? Or was I angry at myself, for falling for a man who should’ve been my enemy, and feeling torn when my loyalty should’ve been to my brother and my brother alone?

Because Iwasfalling. Falling for Jack, with all his cruelty and kindness, terror and tenderness. He was the person who seemed to understand me the most but trust me the least. He knew the parts of me that scared me, had dragged them to the light, and had finally made it possible for me to let go of control. And in doing so, he’d stormed his way into my heart. I laughed bitterly, sniffing. He called me “little thief,” but he was the one who’d stolen from me.

What was I going to do?

“Aviva?” The deep voice made my skin crawl.

I looked up to see Joshua Jensen standing in front of me, hands in his suit pockets. He smiled at me, but there was no warmth in it.

He was the last person I wanted to talk to. I stood up to vacate the bench—and the garden—when he raised a hand.

“You don’t have to run from me, Aviva. I only want to talk.”

“Is that the kind of thing you’d say to my brother?” I spat, wiping furiously at my tears.

The coach sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Aviva, your brother is troubled, mentally. I’m sure youknow this. It’s understandable, the way you two…lost your parents.”

I glared. “How do you know how we lost our parents?”

“Because Asher told me. Asher used to talk to me about everything. I was his confidant, a pseudo-therapist. That was a mistake because he attached to me in inappropriate ways…”

“Bullshit,” I said. “You manipulated him, took advantage of his trust…”

The coach raised his eyebrow. “Like you’re taking advantage of Jack’s?”

“I’m not taking advantage of him.”

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