Page 107 of What if I Told You

“Fuck you, Furbling. This isn’t even—” I look down at the picture in my hand again and bile rises in my throat. I want so fucking badly for this to be a hoax. I want so badly to beat the shit out of Furbling for even trying to make me believe that he slept with my girl. But this may very well be my very worst nightmare coming true. All the blood drains from my face. My heart pounds, my body tenses, and my stomach hollows at the tiny detail in this picture that tells me it is indeed Ella.

The owl tattoo right above her heart.

“She’s a sweet little fuck, isn’t she August?” He laughs. “Should we ask her whose cock she likes better?”

That’s it.

I can’t do this anymore.

Can’t be the nice guy.

All.

I.

See.

Is.

Red.

Red everywhere.

Before I know what the fuck I’m doing, I grab Furbling and yank him over the wall. His back hits the ice and he tries to say something but I refuse to give him one more word until I’ve hit him at least once so I pull my fist back and punch his face.

“Did she know?” I shout at him. “Did she fucking know you took that picture?”

All he does is laugh so I pound into his face with my fist as hard and as fast as I can.

Oh my God he took pictures of her!

“You fucking son of bitch!” Hit number two.

She slept with Jeff?

How could she do this to me?

“You stay the fuck away from her…” Hit three.

“Or I swear to God I will fucking kill you with my own two hands.” I get three more hard hits in before Barrett and Griffin grab me from behind and pull me off Furbling who tries to get up and fight back and slips on the ice and falls. With my teammates holding me back and pulling me toward the tunnel, I shout, “You should be glad I didn’t slit your fucking throat with my skate!”

“Dude, shut the fuck up!” Griffin says as he strong-arms me into the tunnel. “What the fuck are you doing August?

“You’ll be lucky if you don’t get yourself thrown in jail for that mess,” Barrett warns.

“Do you think I give two shits about that?”

They toss me in an empty room somewhere in the hallway that leads to the locker rooms. When I glance around I can see it’s one of the physical therapy rooms. Griffin stands next to me while Bear stands in the doorway, effectively blocking it with his arms folded in front of him.

“Start talking,” Griffin commands.

“He slept with Ella.”

“Who slept with Ella?” He hitches his thumb toward the door. “That guy?”

“That guy was Jeff Furbling.”

Griffin’s brows pinch. “Furbling…why do I know that?—”

---