Page 30 of College Hockey Bully

Cameron’s head draws back. “You’re not exactly her best friend, Aiden. She just had a scary encounter. She should at least see a friendly face when she regains consciousness.”

He has a point, but I’m not trying to hear the truth right now. This is all my fault. Scarlett wouldn’t have been a target if I hadn’t made her one. I want to fix my own mess, however I can. “I’m going to do it.”

From my tone, Cameron backs down with a raised hand. “Fine.”

Bracing with both arms, I lean over the bed, peering down at Scarlett. She looks so peaceful, so vulnerable, all traces of that sassiness gone. Without thinking about it, I brush her hair aside, then run my fingers through the strands. It feels even silkier than when I last touched it—

“Dude, you should see your face right now,” Cameron says, and I jerk back, meeting his baffled expression. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“About what?” I ask calmly, although my heart is racing like I just ran a marathon.

“Do you have a thing for Scarlett?”

“What? No. Why the fuck would you ask me that?”

He gives me a long, scrutinizing stare and I remind myself this guy has known me since I was six years old. There’s no hiding the truth from Cameron when he wants to find it, but he’s going to have to dig like hell for this one.

“I don’t have a thing for Scarlett,” I assure him.

After a beat, he nods. “We both know that wouldn’t go over well with the team, right? Especially Noah. Not only would he hate your guts for selling out the team, he could incite his little gang to make her life a living hell, simply out of spite. You might be the captain, but Noah was always on the verge of going rogue.”

“I know that.” It’s not a secret Noah wanted to be captain, but there’s only one person skilled enough to lead this team.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Cameron says with a faint smile. He gestures to Scarlett. “You might want a jockstrap and a shin guard for when she wakes. Maybe a helmet, too. She’s not going to be happy.”

The door closes behind him. Since I’ve already had four drinks tonight, I take my phone out and order an Uber, getting an estimated arrival time of five minutes. She moans softly when I lift her, and a light fluttering of her eyelashes warns that she’s slowly regaining consciousness. To my surprise, she doesn’t stir during the ten-minute ride to her home.

Give thanks for small mercies.

I tell the driver to wait, then scoop her up again, taking the short walk to her front door, the wooden steps creaking under my feet. I knock on the door with my shoe, and it opens a few seconds later, revealing a man resembling a bear.

He takes one look at Scarlett, then snatches her from my arms so fast that her head bumps against the door frame. She groans, curling into him, her eyes barely opening.

“What the hell you done to my daughter?” he thunders, holding her tightly as a woman who looks like Scarlett appears over his shoulder.

She gasps, looking down. “What happened to her?”

The question is directed at me in a quivering tone that enflames my guilt. “Someone tried to assault her at a party,” I begin as her father moves inside, giving me a clear view of their tiny living room. “I found her just in time.”

“She’s unconscious. What did that ‘someone’ do to her?” she presses firmly.

From her tone, it’s obvious she thinks I’m involved. She confirms it by saying, “Yes. I know who you are, Aiden Hunter. Scarlett told me all about how you blamed her for that incident earlier this year.”

I’m guessing Scarlett said nothing about the recent pranks or this five-foot woman would’ve already tried to take me down, if her hot glare has anything to do with it. “It was an ignorant misunderstanding—”

“Misunderstanding, my ass. You wanted to blame someone for your little juvenile behavior, so you found the weakest target. Who’s going to defend the scholarship girl from the trailer park against the great Aiden Hunter?” She leans in with a snarl. “Little do you know; my baby girl is more resilient than you could ever be.”

That much I know, and in truth, it’s a trait I admire like hell in her. “Mrs. Pierce, I’m truly sorry—”

“Take that sorry and stick it where the sun don’t shine, boy,” the bear suddenly growls from behind his wife. “And don’t ever set foot on this property again.”

At his threatening tone, I raise my hand with a nod, then back off. They’re still standing at the door as the Uber drives away.

Not in the mood to head back to the party, I direct the driver to my home, where I see my dad heading out, dressed in a pair of jeans that are definitely inappropriate for someone his age. I barely return his greeting before walking inside, only to see Mom curled up on the couch and nursing a drink, mascara smearing her tear-stained cheeks. Without a word, I sit beside her, take the glass from her hand, then rest her head on my lap. Her body jerks as she sobs silently, and I brush her hair to sootheher, which eventually soothes me, too. This has been a shit-show of a day.

Finally, Mom settles down, wipes her face, then sits back up.

“We’re going to get through this,” I assure her. “A few more months—a year, tops—and I’ll get you out of here.”

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