Page 25 of Boots & Scars

"Don't bullshit me," he snapped. "You told Everly about the frat party."

"And?" I challenged, pulling the laces tight.

"Why would you do that?" His eyes bore into me like drills.

I paused, my hands still on my skates. "You know what I get a kick out of?" I asked, locking eyes with him. "The fact that this little girl thinks she's so goddamn tough when no one actually lets her do anything on her own."

Walker's stance stiffened. "I saw the bruises on her knees," he said. "You've been pushing her too hard."

"She hasn't broken yet," I shot back, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Although now that you mention it, having her wait on her knees for me sounds like a plan I can really get behind?—"

"Shut your fucking mouth," Walker growled, stepping closer.

"Why?" I stood up, towering over him slightly. "Everyone is coddling this girl. Let her fucking find out that the world sucks. Why does she get the privilege of protection? Because she has dinner plates for eyeballs and a tight ass?"

Walker's fists clenched at his sides. "Watch it," he warned.

His anger was almost palpable, filling the room with tension thick enough to skate on.

I laughed, a hollow sound echoing off the walls of the locker room. "I didn't realize Hawthorne's daughter was so… protected."

Walker’s face tightened, his teeth grinding together. "Why are you drudging up the past?"

"Drudging up?" I asked, leaning back against the cold metal lockers. "It's right in front of my face. It's nice to see that my family wasn't the only one demolished because of it. But I see her, and I see every goddamn thing that's wrong with the world."

"And what's that?" Walker crossed his arms over his chest, challenging me. "Tell me, Coop. Since your life is so damn hard. NHL player. Engaged to a brilliant ER nurse. Yeah, your life was so hard after your parents' divorce."

"Don't deign to know me, old man," I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut ice. "You weren't there, were you?"

A flicker of guilt crossed Walker's face before he could mask it.

"But I bet you were there for her, weren't you? Why not? She's starry-eyed and innocent. Ripe for the picking, isn't she?"

Walker’s fists unclenched slightly but his stance remained rigid. He opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped himself.

I watched him closely, my jaw clenched tight. He didn't know the half of it—none of them did. My life might have looked golden from the outside, but beneath that veneer was a different story altogether.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, tension hanging in the air like a thick fog.

“You need to take responsibility for your own actions,” Walker growled, his voice echoing off the cold metal lockers. “You fucked up your own life. Not Everly. You’re the one whoalmost killed Matthews. He’s out for the post-season, by the way.”

I sneered, leaning back against the lockers. “I’ll send him a card.”

“This isn’t fucking funny, Sinclaire,” he snapped. “There are consequences for your actions.”

“Don’t I know it?” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “And there are consequences of ignorance too—something this little girl is going to find out the hard way. Tell me, does she know what her dear daddy did to my family when he and my mom decided to fuck around? Or does she think her father is some saint?”

Walker said nothing, his face a tight mask of controlled fury.

“See?” I continued, my voice growing colder. “Protected. Coddled. You’re the ones doing her a disservice. This world is going to rip into her in a way that can’t be undone.”

“No, Cooper,” Walker replied, his voice quieter but no less intense. “The only one who’s ripping into her is you. You’re so goddamn miserable with your life that you can’t stand the thought of anyone being genuinely kind, can you? And you have to dirty them up and bring them down to your level.”

I tightened my skates; the leather creaking under my fingers, then stood up slowly.

“Well, boss?” I asked sarcastically, my eyes boring into his. “Am I still going to that fucking party?”

Walker clenched his teeth and looked away, refusing to meet my gaze.

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