Page 48 of The Puck Chase

All the warnings, all the slamming me against lockers, and telling me to leave him the fuck alone, it was all about desire and dominance. He’s not angry, he’sjealous.The thought sends a thrill through me, as I realize that he isn’t protecting Hallie, he’s possessive of me.

“Why? Does your friend not like sharing his toys like you do?” I ask, pushing him in a way I’ve learned only I can. I’ve even got the black eye to prove it, and just like I knew he would, he snaps. He rips me away from Hallie, slamming me back against the plexi-glass by the fabric of my jersey, which only makes me smile wider. He’s not pissed off because he hates me, he’s pissed off because he wants me, and he hates that fact. A revelation that has my heart racing, as I toss back the words he once said when he had me in this very position. “Careful, Forbes, don’t poke the bear,” I smirk, leaning into his touch, and I see the moment his eyes scan the bruise on my face, and they instantly fill with regret.

Which is only made worse when Hallie skates up beside him, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. “Come on, Daemon, Penelope is watching,” she whispers, and I can tell from the lookthey share, that they must have struck up a friendship since she married his best friend.

He releases me instantly, looking between me and the little girl, who is thankfully being distracted by Nova, with nothing but shame. Josh is glaring at him, no doubt making him feel even worse, and his stare drops to the ice, as he moves to skate away, but Hallie steps in his path.

“Leaving will only make it worse,” she tells him softly. “We all make mistakes, it’s how we fix them that counts,” she adds, his stare meeting mine again briefly, before he nods, and the look now in his eyes guts me completely.

There is nothing but grief and heartbreak there, and all I want to do is grab him and scream at him, to make him tell me what happened to make him feel this way. I know he wants me, but for some reason he won’t let himself be happy. Whatever happened to him, wherever his scars came from, they’ve damaged him beyond repair, and I fucking hate it. Why can’t he just let himself be happy? Why can’t he let me try and make him happy?

It’s a thought that plagues me through the entire game, hating how quiet and withdrawn he becomes after our interaction, even after we win. A mood that doesn’t improve when we all head to the diner, where Penelope’s mom works, to grab some lunch in celebration. He purposely sits himself on the end, interacting with no one, and I can see both Josh and Hallie exchanging worried looks. Yet they are so preoccupied with Penelope, that they don’t notice when he slips away and heads toward the bathroom, but I do.

I’m on my feet before I can stop myself, following him as he makes his way down the hall, and silently slips out the back door. I don’t even hesitate to take the same steps, trailing after him and out the door into an alleyway. Daemon has his hands braced against the brick wall with his head down, as if tryingto catch his breath. He doesn’t even look up, yet when the door slams behind me he sighs, no doubt sensing my menacing presence.

“You really do have a pain kink, don’t you, Gray?” he asks, looking up at me, but not meeting my stare, like he can’t bring himself to face me.

“No, just a Forbes one apparently, even your right hook couldn’t deter me,” I joke, and he recoils slightly, his glare once again zeroing in on the bruise beneath my eye. “Is everything okay?” I add, tentatively taking a step toward him, and he turns, pressing his back into the wall, as if stopping himself from running away.

“Everything’s fine, I just needed some fresh air,” he lies, and I roll my eyes, coming to a stop beside him.

“Do you ever get sick of lying to yourself?” I question, leaning back against the wall and tipping my head up to the sky, feeling his eyes on me. “I mean, aren’t you tired of being alone all the time?” I add, glancing sideways and meeting his stare, and something flashes across it.

“I’m tired of a lot of things, Archer, but that doesn’t mean I want to change them,” he replies carefully, before dropping his eyes back to the ground. “Sometimes, being alone is better than losing someone.” His words are like a knife to my gut, and despite knowing better, I can’t help but push up off the wall and stand in front of him.

My hand reaches out, tipping his chin back until his eyes collide with mine. “Or what if you let someone in, let me in,” I plead, unsure why the connection with him feels as strong as it does, but I know I can’t ignore it any longer.

“I told you I don’t want you, why can’t you just listen to me?” He exhales, but still doesn’t pull away from my touch, and all I want to do is hold him.

“Because your mouth says one thing, but your body says another,” I tell him softly, and then I hold my breath, as his thumb comes up and brushes against the mark he left on my eye.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he whispers, like even the memory of it causes him pain, and I smile.

“Don’t worry, Forbes, you’re not as strong as you look. I think your cock left a bigger bruise on the back of my throat,” I muse, thinking it might make him smile, but it has the opposite effect.

Instead, he rips himself out of my hold, pushing me away, and shaking his head. “I’m going to say this one last time, Gray, stay the fuck away from me, I don’t want you,” he spits angrily, and all it does is piss me off.

“You can say it until you’re blue in the fucking face, Daemon, but it doesn’t make it true, so why not just admit you want me?” I snap back, and he shakes his head again, no longer meeting my stare. “Or maybe it’s not me at all, maybe it’s someone else, Jasper perhaps?” I add in question, remembering the few times I have seen his name on his phone and how he reacted to it.

When we left the ice the day he punched me, there was someone waiting there for him.Was that Jasper?

When he doesn’t respond, it hits me that I’ve discovered the reason for always fighting against this thing. “It’s him, isn’t it?” I sigh, feeling slightly stupid, and when he still remains silent, I nod slowly with a forced smile. “Well, okay then.” I turn on my heel, heading back towards the door and ripping it open.

“Jasper is my brother,” he calls out to my back, and I pause on the threshold, turning toward him slightly. “I haven’t seen him in a long time, and I’ve been ignoring his calls and messages, that’s why he was at the rink the other day,” he adds slowly, and I can see his mind turning, as if he wants to say more, so for once I remain silent. “We don’t have the best relationship because of….” he trails off, stopping himself. “Well, because of a lot of things, so when I saw him I lost my temper,and I’m sorry.” He closes the distance between us, his eyes once again staring at the bruise he left. “But that doesn’t change anything. I’m not looking for more than whatever it is we’ve already done. Just because I enjoy you, doesn’t mean I want you.”

Then he brushes past me and heads back inside, and all I can do is stare after him wordlessly, wondering what the fuck made him so cynical. I want him, and I know he wants me, but I’m not sure that’s enough, and by the time I make it back into the diner, Daemon is nowhere to be seen, and Josh is staring at me in silent wonder about his best friend.

Yeah, you and me both, buddy.

Sleep has evaded me almost every night for the last week, and I wish I could say it was due to Jasper’s surprise visit to the rink. I mean, that would be normal, right? I’ve not seen my brother for almost three years, and the last time I did it wasn’t exactly under good circumstances, so it would be understandable. Or maybe, even the harrowing news he brought, about our father being granted a parole hearing. That would drive anyone crazy. Yet the only thing keeping me awake is my fucking teammate.

First, it was the scent of him in my bed, the reminder of his presence keeping me from my slumber for almost three days, but now, it’s the lack of it. My sheets no longer smell like him, and I should be fucking happy about it, I wanted him gone and he’s gone. There have been no more texts, no more taunts, and Ishould be able to forget all about him. So why can’t I? Why am I laying in bed wishing he were here to stain my sheets again?

After what happened in the locker room on Saturday, we were both called into Coach’s office on Monday morning so he could yell at us. I’m not sure what Archer said to him, but when it was my turn I took all the blame, assuring him nothing like that would happen again. Thankfully, Coach is familiar with some of my background, and tends to give me a little leeway as a result, so I thought that would be the end of it until the new year, that I could avoid Archer and things could go back to normal, but of course I was wrong. There is no avoiding him, no ignoring him, I have learned that lesson many times. I mean, fuck, I punched him in the fucking face and still he came back for more.

So I think it’s safe to say, when it comes to one another, we are both well and truly fucked in the head.

It’s Christmas Eve, and after sharing a quiet breakfast with Josh, Hallie, and the other guys from the house, I thought I would once again try and get some sleep, but of course it’s impossible. I hate Christmas almost as much as I hate Thanksgiving, and some might call me miserable, but those people have never spent their holidays alone, or worse, beaten to a bloody pulp. Most of the time I find it easy to accept that I’m alone in this world, that I have no family I can rely on, but even the strongest people still get lonely sometimes.

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