Page 80 of Troublemaker
I cracked my knuckles again when we walked into the rink and scanned the large arena. The team was stretching and talking shit, laughing. Lucy was nowhere in the vicinity. Tension filled me, because even if she was late from turning around to put a bra on like I’d ordered, I still needed to see her with my own two eyes. Ever since I’d seen her being held against a wall by those fucking assholes, I’d been hit with the overwhelming need to know where she was at all times. I still wanted to put her in a goddamn collar and attach a leash to her so she was never more than a few feet away from me, forever. I knew that was fucked up, and Lucy would never agree to it, but it didn’t make the craving go away.
Finally, she came walking in, swaying her ass, hair up in a high ponytail with pieces curling behind her ears. I immediately relaxed, although seeing her left hand in that brace made me want to beat those assholes to death all over again.
I glanced at her chest and she smirked, tugging down one loose sleeve to expose a lacy black bra strap, before winking at me as she walked over to the players box to grab waters and towels to organize and pass out to the team.
I reached for my phone automatically.
Pull that sleeve back up, troublemaker.
Feeling her phone vibrate, Lucy pulled it out of her purse, glancing at it. A smile spread across those pink lips and made her shine, brilliant in her beauty.
and what are you going to do to me if I don’t?
Oh, she wanted to play, did she?
Take it out on your sweet ass.
promises, promises
I growled under my breath, especially when she tugged her sleeve down even more, exposing even more glowing skin.
Trey tapped my shoulder. “Are you getting sick?”
“No,” I said shortly.
“Sure sounds like it,” he muttered, but let it go, calling out to Lucy, “You okay, kid?”
Lucy glanced down at her wrist like she’d forgotten all about it.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little accident.”
Emory, Mason, and Matt—Emory’s roommate—skated up to the box.
“What kind of accident?” Emory asked, sounding concerned—too concerned.
Lucy lifted a shoulder. “Nothing you need to know about.”
“Did someone hurt you?” Mason asked, sounding concerned, but in theyou’re my fiancée’s best friend and so I’m worried because I have to beway that didn’t raise my hackles.
Lucy shut her eyes, and her voice was quiet when she said, “Yeah, just some assholes.”
“What the fuck?”
“Where the hell are they?”
“We’ll destroy them for you, give us their names.”
My team surrounded her, irate, and as territorial as I felt, I couldn’t help but be happy that they were so protective of her. Lucy never had that, and as much as I could give that to her, I knew Lucy well enough to know that having other people care somuch about her would settle some of the pain inside her chest that her parents had instilled.
Lucy turned her head, glancing over at me, a small, private smile on those lips I needed to take with mine immediately—but wouldn’t.
“Coach took care of it,” she said, softly but clearly. Her confidence in me settled my annoyance with my team.
“Good,” Emory said.
The team echoed their approval, and I blew my whistle and started issuing directions for practice.
I had taken care of it. Just like I’d take care of anything else.
