Page 102 of Revenge Puck

“Is Christian really going to the hospital?” I ask in concern.

“Nah. But they don’t know that, do they?” he asks with a grin. “Come on. Hurry it up. You’ve got less than five minutes before intermission when the rest of the team comes in and you’ll need to get the hell out of there.”

“Okay,” I agree, hoping five minutes is enough time.

Inside the quiet row of players cubbies, doors hang off hinges, clothes are scattered around, and Preston is still dressed in his uniform, stomping around on his skates with his back to me.

“Preston,” I say softly. A second before he picks up his helmet or someone else’s and slams it into the wall, startling me, making me second-guess coming down here. Maybe Steve was right.

When he turns around, his eyes are glazed with fury as he glares at me, looking nothing like the sweet man I know he is inside. “How could you tell him, Elle?”

“Wh-what?” I ask in confusion. “I never told him about Finley.”

“You told him about us, that it was all fake!”

“I…that’s not even close to what I said. Not exactly.”

Before I can even say another word, Preston drops to the bench. His head is hanging in his hands between his legs as he shakes it. “I just lost my entire bonus for the postseason.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, knowing how infuriating that must be to lose after one mistake.

“I can’t do this anymore with you,” he says. “We were down two to one before my penalty. I heard the crowd. They scored again during the power play, didn’t they?”

“Y-yes, I think so.”

“Fuck!” he shouts. Getting up and turning around, he punches his bare fist straight through the wall.

“Preston…”

“We’re done, Elle!”

Done.

We’re done.

I knew it.

I knew it would come to this and still I stupidly fell for him. Preston all but warned me that he didn’t date, wouldn’t date if it jeopardized his hockey career, if it meant hurting his family.

And now it has.

The Warhawks are probably going to lose game five.

Preston lost his playoff bonus and won’t be getting a contract extension he was so desperate for.

Now, if another team wants him, he’ll have to up and move with or without Maya and Finley.

I know Preston is furious at himself for lashing out, but it’s me who gets all the blame right now.

Without another word, I slip off his jersey, glad I’m wearing a black lace cami underneath, and toss it on the closest bench.He can keep it. I don’t want a single reminder of him. It’ll just make getting over him even harder.

36

Preston

The roar of fury in my head subsides as soon as I turn around and Elle is no longer standing in the locker room.

She’s gone.