Page 39 of Zero Pucks

“Don’t worry about it,” he said again.

I hung up without thinking. How did he know where I was? I went so far out of my way to keep this from him. How could he have possibly found me? My vision went white at the edges, and my stomach roiled violently.

I didn’t want to be sick in public, and the last thing I needed was to fucking faint right here on this bus bench. God, the walk back to the rental was so far. Why did I think I could get away this easily? There was no peace.

“Amedeo?”

My head snapped to the side, and I realized a car had pulled up to the curb. It was a low-to-the-ground, two-door, sporty thing, and I recognized the man behind the wheel. It was Tucker’s friend, the one from the supermarket. Ford.

“You okay, bud? You look a little green?” he asked.

I waved him off with a grimace. “Yeah, no. Just…stopped for a breather.”

He hummed. “Mmmmyeah, I don’t think that’s the truth. Get in.”

“No, really, I’m?—”

“Get. In.”

I moved without thinking, my legs still weak, but I managed to slide into the seat and close the door. He shot me a sunny grin.

“Sorry. I’m not actually trying to be a dick, but if Tuck knew that I left his husband sitting on the side of the road, looking like he wanted to ralph all over his shoes, he’d literally kill me.”

He was sweet, though I wasn’t sure he was entirely accurate. Tucker had been nicer to me and about this whole situation than I expected him to be, but now that he knew we weren’t really legally married, there was no reason to care about my well-being.

But I was still shaken from hearing Bryce’s voice. And although he hadn’t made a direct threat, him letting me know he knew where I was felt like one. I felt entirely unsafe.

My sister was right—I couldn’t trust him.

He’d never laid hands on me before, but I was starting to realize I didn’t know what he might be capable of. Having some beefy hockey players on my side was not the worst position I could be in if Bryce knew my exact location and decided to show up.

“Hey.”

I glanced over and realized Ford hadn’t moved the car. Shit, had he asked me something?

“Are you okay? We can—” His words were cut off by a person behind him laying on their horn.

He shoved his hand out the window, and though I couldn’t see it from my angle, I knew he was giving them the finger.

“Eat shit, dickhead! There’s no one in the other lane!”

The car behind us zoomed around while pressing the horn, and Ford’s middle finger followed them forward.

“Sorry, people here are assholes sometimes. Anyway, you good? I’m kind of late, so we should get going if you’re not going to throw up in my car.”

I blinked at him. “I’m good. I won’t throw up, I promise. We can go.”

It was only after he put the car back into drive and hit the gas that I realized I had no idea where I’d agreed to tag along to or if I would be welcome.

CHAPTERNINE

TUCKER

Sometimes with Jonahon my arm, it literally felt like the blind leading the blind. I couldn’t really blame him for his restaurant choices because it wasn’t exactly like he could check the aesthetics of the place, but he seemed to have a goddamn sixth sense for picking these intimate, low-light spots where I couldn’t see dick.

Luckily, the hostess was wearing a bright white shirt, and she was easy to follow. Unluckily, the chairs were almost the same brown as the carpet, so I knocked Jonah into them like four times.

“Here,” he said, shoving his cane at me.

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