Page 87 of College Hockey Bully

“Wow.” A watery gleam fills his eyes, which leaves a knot in my stomach as he turns his attention to me. “I called her a liar but fuck, she was telling the truth. I bet you’re waiting on pins and needles for the bank to open in the morning, huh?”

“I wasn’t planning on cashing it—”

“Bull-fucking-shit,” he snaps. “Why the fuck is it on your dresser and not in her purse?”

“Wait a minute.” I shake my head to clear it. “You’re quite upset for someone who’s not only back with their ex, but planning a fucking proposal. Yeah, your mom was kind enough to supply that information. She also showed me the photo you took at Casey’s party tonight. All this time I’d been worried, you were just fine.”

Aiden steps come back at me. “Whatever you saw in that photo—”

“I don’t fucking care!” I bark. “I’m a revengeful bitch and you’re a two-timing asshole. There. It’s settled.” I push past him. “Now get the fuck out of my house.”

He hesitates, as if about to say something.

“Get out!” I yell.

“The bank opens at eight-thirty, just in case you want to be first in line,” he mumbles on the way out.

I slam the door behind him, then let loose a blood-curdling scream. Spotting the check on the dresser, I grab it, then rip it into pieces. Mom comes in, gasping when she sees the remnants on the floor.

“We’re going to make it, Mom,” I announce, my chest heaving with harsh pants. “Someday, we’re getting out of here, not influenced by people with hidden agendas who look down on us, but by my hard work. I know, it’s heartbreaking to let all this money go, but—”

Mom pulls me into a crushing hug, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry for that moment of weakness, honey. It’s just hard living like this from day to day, that for a minute, all I could think of was the chance to escape this life. We’ve survived this for many years and I’m sure we can handle a few more.”

I hug her back tightly. “There’s nothing wrong with being weak sometimes.” For a moment, I was also tempted to take the money. Aiden’s disgusting behavior made me even more grateful that I didn’t surrender to that urge.

Something heavy and painful shifts inside me as I thaw out. I can’t believe I fell for him. I gave myself to someone who thought nothing of hurting me, of belittling me. Why did I assume he was a good guy, what, because he bought me a new bike? Protected me from his friends? Ensured that I finished before taking care of himself?

As Mom walks out of the room and I drop back on the bed, it hits me. Every good thing Aiden has done was to cancel his terrible actions. He made them slash my old bike. He made me a target by accusing me of something I didn’t do.

He’s not my hero. Aiden is a villain through and through.

The first sob breaks free, then another, until I’m curled into a ball, crying until my face hurts, then my thoughts turn to the phone call that implicated me.

To the person on the other end of that phone call.

Which means...

The other villain is Tabitha James.

Chapter 34

Aiden

“Man…” Cameron rests the beer bottle on his kitchen counter, pity filling his face. “That’s fucking messed up. I’m so sorry.”

“Tell me about it,” I mutter, picking at the wrapping on my bottle. “To think I believed she was innocent. Fuck.”

Cameron shrugs. “Well, I did warn you to take it slow. I don’t know, she seemed like a nice girl, but there was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Now I know.”

I sigh harshly.

“And now I understand why your game was so off this morning.” His expression hardens. “Dude, the semis are this Friday. If we fuck up, we miss the nationals. Don’t forget what’s at stake, not just for the team.”

“Yeah, I know.” Playing a shitty game means losing potential spots on any NHL team that might have their eyes on me.

But if I lose, Dad’s blackmail will be useless against me.

I twist the bottle in my hand, staring down at it, deep in thought. All of this, everything I’m currently going through, it’s all because of my love for the game. I should just walk away. Start over. Put my software engineering degree to use, instead of chasing a dream. Maybe Mom was right all along, that hockey is a simple hobby, nothing more.

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