Page 26 of The Enforcer

Chapter Eleven

Joaquin

The minute I got Kenna's text, I was ready to catch a flight home and be with her. I didn't think it was fair for her to handle this on her own. It was both of us that was in this mess. Not just me. Not just her.

I had two more games I needed to play, and then I would be home.

It went by in a blur. There was nothing more I wanted to do than to reach out to her. Not to fuck her over the phone, but to make sure she was okay, that she wasn't too upset and hadn't gotten into too much trouble. I knew Matt loved Kenna more than anything, but there was a small part of me that worried this might cause a rift between them. The last thing I wanted was for him to lose respect for his daughter.

When we finally came back to Houston, Coach gave us the next two days off. It helped that we beat Hollywood and San Fran. We lost to the Gulls, but only because fucking Brandon Thorpe is a beast in the net and no one on our team could get one past him.

My phone chirped with a text message. I was surprised to see Matt's name pop up.

My house. Now.

I felt my insides coil up. This could not be good.

But I wasn't going to bitch out and run away. Kenna had practically a week with her father, to endure his reaction to us - whatever that was. I knew for a fact he wasn't happy, and I was frustrated that Kenna had to deal with that alone.

The last thing I wanted was for her to be criticized when it takes two to fuck.

I said goodbye to the boys and took an Uber to Matt's house. I wasn't even going to go home first, which meant I had my luggage and equipment. The driver was a Houston fan and asked for my autograph at the end of the ride. He tried to wave the fee, but I paid him anyway and made sure to give him a big tip.

I knocked on the door when I got there. Matt answered. One look at me, and I knew he was pissed. He didn't even say anything to me. All he did was take a step back and indicate with an angry nod of his head for me to come in. I obliged, my arms filled with bags, my right hand holding two hockey sticks.

When I got inside, I dropped everything in the foyer. Without warning, Matt cracked my jaw with his fist. I bit my tongue and tasted the familiar metallic taste blood had.

"I probably deserve that," I admitted.

"Yeah, you fucking do," he said. "My daughter? Dude, you're a fucking professional hockey player. You can get any girl you want, but my fucking daughter? What the fuck are you thinking? She's barely eighteen years old!"

"She turned eighteen over the summer," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, she's eighteen and a half! Does that make you feel better?"

Probably not the best correction to make. He was right.

Without warning, Matt socked me again. I could feel my blood run hot. I knew I deserved the first hit, but I wasn't so sure I deserved the second. I clenched my fingers together so my hands were balled into tight fists. My short, bitten nails dug into the flesh of my palms, leaving tiny indents in them. I was a goddamn enforcer, for Christ sake. I had a reputation to uphold. I couldn't let someone beat the shit out of me. What would people think?

To be fair, if anyone knew what I did to deserve the beating, they would probably agree with Matt's actions, a voice in my head pointed out. A voice I wanted to tell to fuck the fuck off.

"My daughter?" Matt asked again. "Tell me, Joaquin, fucking tell me, what compelled you to pick her? Did I do something to upset you? I just, I don't understand."

I forced myself to take a moment and hear what he was saying. He wasn't throwing accusations at me. He wasn't calling me names. At least, he wasn't doing those things yet. He just wanted an explanation. I could give him that. At the very least, I could try, because if I was being honest, I had no idea what to say. I, myself, didn't know why I decided to be with Kenna, other than the fact that there was something about her I couldn't quite put my fingers on.

And, again, if I was being fucking honest with myself, that feeling of uncertainty both terrified and thrilled me. I wanted to see more of it. I wanted to feel more of it.

I just, I liked being around Kenna.

"Do you want honesty or are you looking for a fight?" I asked in a quiet, controlled voice.

He shot me a look.

"I can tell you, " I said, "but I don't think it's going to matter in the grand scheme of things. I need you to hear what I'm saying and give me the chance to say it. You don't have to agree with it, but if you're seriously asking me, you owe me the time to explain."

"Fuck you," Matt said. "I don't owe you shit. Nothing you say is going to make me understand why, out of all the people on the fucking planet, you decide to pick my daughter. She isn't just anyone, Joaquin. She's my fucking daughter."

"Don't you think I know that?" I asked.

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