Page 14 of Wrap Around
Adrenaline burns through me, making me feel reckless. “That’s right, baby. You want to act like I’m some kind of sick pervert, but we both know you were seconds away from rutting against me like a horny teenager.” I arch a brow. “Again.”
It was a cruel thing to say and I know it, but for once I want to have the upper hand. As I propel myself backwards and away from him, I’m not sure the look on his face is worth the win. I see more than rage there. I see hurt. I see a man on the edge.
I turn, refocus, and get into position just as the puck flies my way. I stop it and take off, cutting across the ice and lining up a clean shot on goal.
A collective gasp erupts from the crowd just as something slams into me from behind. Hard.
I crash into the boards and crumple. My stick skitters away. Pain explodes across my face as blood gushes from my nose, splattering across the ice.
That hit wasn’t clean. Not even close.
Whistles shriek all around me. The arena falls deathly silent for a split second, then explodes with shouting and boos.
I roll to my side, dazed. I look up and see the ref blow his whistle again, then gesture with hands on his hips, then one hand tapping the back of the other in a downward chop:unsportsmanlike conduct and a game misconduct.He points at the player behind me.
A couple of teammates are skating towards me, but Greensboro’s goalie is closest to me. He leans down and offers me a hand, probably trying to make up for the fact that one of his guys just boarded me intentionally.
My ears are ringing enough that I can’t understand what the refs and players from both sides are yelling. I press my glove to my face, trying to stop the bleeding, and twist around to see who got tossed from the game.
My mouth drops open when I see another ref trying to escort the offending player fromthe ice.
It was Gideon?
He’s standing there, red-faced and breathing hard, glaring at me like he wants to take another shot. There’s no guilt in his eyes. No remorse. All I see in his red-rimmed eyes is barely restrained fury.
My chest tightens. I skate back to the bench in a haze, completely numb. I can’t hear what anyone’s saying. Not Coach, not my teammates. None of it registers.
Gideon doesn’t go to the penalty box.
He leaves the ice entirely.
Suffice to say, we lose.
CHAPTER 6
GIDEON
I've barely rung the doorbell when I see the top of her head peek through the windows that run vertically on either side of the front door. Her eyes are wide, mouth parted in surprise like she didn't think I'd actually show. She pulls back, and then the door swings open.
My little sister, my partner in crime. Lily is only ten months younger than I am, but I’ve always been protective of her. It makes the guilt of not coming sooner sit heavier in my stomach.
I know I deserve every ounce of shame rotting a hole through my chest. Just like I deserve the hefty fine and suspension the league slapped me with the moment I walked off the ice. I’m not happy about mandatory counseling with the team therapist, but I’m thankful I’m even being given a chance. I’ve been dropped to the third line while Coach tries to figure out what to do with me.
Withme. Not with Silas, because he’s been working hard and doing his best while I’ve been doing nothing but making his game suffer. I put my entire team at risk, and then I lost it.
“You want to tell me what the hell is going on with you?” Dempsey groused once he was finally able to calm himself enoughto sit down. He’d spent nearly twenty minutes berating me with barely a breath between words while I stood quietly with my eyes trained on the floor between my feet. I almost knelt the way I would as a kid when my father would lecture me. I’d almost welcome the pain of my knees against the hard flooring.
“I don’t know,” I said quietly, barely able to get the words out.
“Bullshit, Shepherd! You body-checked your own teammate into the boards, nearly breaking his nose! It’d be bad enough if he was on the other side, but your own teammate? Have you lost your damn mind?!”
I clenched my jaw and swallowed down the instinct to defend myself. What would I even say? That itispersonal? That I snapped because Silas Caldwell is a shadow from my past that has crawled under my skin and makes me feel like I’m losing my mind?
It wouldn’t be a lie. This rage has been building inside me since the day I looked up and saw him watching me. It’s grown bigger and hotter day by day, week by week, game by game. Like an allergic reaction that gets worse the more I’m exposed, itching so badly it’s driving me insane. But there’s no medicine to make it better.
I can’t escape him. Can’t escape that knowing look in his eyes, the glint of something almost warm and understanding but comes off as taunting because neither of us has any business looking at each other that way.
In the hallway between periods, I was so close to… I don’t know. Something reckless. Strangling the life out of him with my hands around his neck. Or worse. Sucking the air from his lungs through his mouth. I pushed and pushed, wanting him to fight back, to give me a reason to unleash all of this pent-up torment. Instead, the warmth of his body and the hard length of him jutting into my pelvis only stoked the flames.
