Page 38 of Brutal Game

13

Jack

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Isaac huffed at me as we skated lines.

“Not fucking talking about it,” I muttered.

It was a week after the night at The Stacks when I’d threatened Dick Doyle, gotten into it with Aviva, and then called her a cumdumpster in front of everyone. Since that night, I’d thought about texting her—I’d already tracked down her number—but I’d been too busy with hockey practice and training. And, honestly, I felt a little dickish myself for going from forcing her to give me her virginity to humiliating her publicly, all in the same day. And although there was a part of me that wanted to blame her for it, since she’d been the one who’d pulled away when I’d softened toward her, I knew that was just victim blaming. Everything I’d done to her was on me.

The louder, stronger part of me was satisfied as fuck that I’d been first. Just like I’d told her, her virginity was mine,her pussy was mine, her whole body was mine—she was mine, period.

And I protect what’s mine.

But I hadn’t done a very good job of that, had I?

“Jack,” Isaac said harshly, pulling me out of my brooding.

Coach blew his whistle. “Feldman! Jones! What the hell are you two old ladies doing there, gabbing away?”

“Sorry Coach,” I said, immediately ashamed of letting him down—even for a second.

Coach had us doing a bag skate for the past hour, because he was paranoid that we weren’t ready for our first game of the season, which happened to be against Tabb. The game wasn’t for two weeks, but none of us were willing to start our season with a loss, least of all me.

“You’re full of shit,” Isaac said, usual dimples missing in action as we skated back and forth across the ice. “You’ve been distracted and moody—moodier than usual. And erratic as fuck. First you call that girl a,” he scowled, “a cumdumpster, which is one of the douchiest, foulest words in the English language?—”

“I don’t think it’s actually a word,” I interrupted, trying to seem casual even as my insides knotted. I refused to feel bad about it.

“Whatever,” he scoffed. “When you said you wanted to go to The Stacks that night, I was surprised because that’s not our spot. But nowhere as surprised as when you staked a claim and humiliated her in front of everyone. And then your mercurial ass warned us ‘if any of you call her that, I’ll make sure you ride the bench the entire season.’” Isaac imitated me.

I had done that. The idea of any of these bastards calling Aviva that made me sick.

“And since then,” Isaac continued, “you’ve barely spoken a word to any of us. So once again, I ask,what the hell has gotten into you?”

I groaned. “Have you ever fucked a virgin?”

Isaac almost tripped over his skates. “Shit. Really?”

“Really,” I said.

He wiped sweat off his forehead, picking the pace back up as we sped back and forth from line to line. Football and basketball players thought they were the only ones who had it bad when they had to run suicides, but try doing it on skates. And nothing, absolutely nothing, was as brutal as one of Coach’s bag skates.

My body ached, my chest heaved, and I welcomed the exhaustion and pain. Anything to distract me fromher.Every night, I’d gone to sleep imagining her smell, her taste. Every morning, I woke to the memory of her in my arms, her virgin cunt clenching around my cock. I felt guilty and angry and fucking confused as hell. No one had ever twisted me up like this before. No one had ever made mefeellike this before. Obsessed, possessed, out of control. Like even I had no idea what I would do next.

Isaac was quiet for a moment. He got like that sometimes. Publicly, he was the life of the party: affable, charming, easygoing, talkative. Privately, he was quiet, studious, and not nearly as much of a fuck boy as he pretended to be.

Finally, he said, “I’ve never fucked a virgin because I don’t want the responsibility, and I don’t trust that I’d be careful enough. Treating her right—that’s important. And I’m taking it from last week’s show at The Stacks that you didn’t treat her right.”

“Not at all,” I admitted. “Although I didn’t fuckingknow.If I had…” I trailed off.

One of the assistant coaches blew his whistle. “Take five, get some water. And then get back to it.”

Groans all around. Isaac stopped skating but ignored them, focused on me.

“If you had, what. You would’ve been nicer to her?” he raised an eyebrow.

I ripped my gloves off, and then peeled my shirt, suddenly overheated. Because I wouldn’t have been. I still would have fucked her as hard, still would have subjected her to humiliation after she’d rejected my softer side.

“Fuck, man,” I groaned. “I don’t know what the fuck to do. And you don’t even know how it started, what she tried to do to us.”

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