Page 66 of Puck Lust

The kids are on the ice with another one of the coaches. Looks like they’re playing a game. One kid pulls a dick move, deking a second kid in the line before taking off down the ice with the puck.

The other kid loses his balance and struggles to straighten up. But someone else comes up on his right and he trips as he swings himself out of the way. He goes down on his arm and lets out a loud yelp.

Jack runs to the middle of the ice to help him up. I furrow my brow when the kid shakes his head at something Jack says. He helps the kid up and walks him into a corner, away from all the other kids. His jaw tightens as he leans over the boy and whispers something. The kids eyes are red-rimmed and he swipes at a tear that slips down his cheek.

I take a few steps closer, still too far away to hear anything.

Then I see Jack take his arm. He slides the shirt sleeve to his elbow.

Jesus Christ,” I mutter when I see the angry, bluish-purple bruises that cover the whole forearm. He runs a finger over the kid’s ratty turtleneck to expose another bruise near his clavicle.

Sam walks over to me. “Hey, everything okay?”

I look at him, my eyes wide. “No. Not at all.”

Jack runs over, his face flushed red, his eyes blazing with anger. He grabs Sam by the t-shirt, fisting the fabric as Sam gapes at him.

“I want you to find Jeremy’s father. Because I’m going to fucking kill him.”

TWENTY-THREE

jack

“Jack,what the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam hisses, covering my hand with his and twisting it off.

I can barely control my anger. It’s like a goddamn pot of boiling hot water about to overflow. I swallow it down, aware of peoples’ curious eyes on me. But it singes my insides, searing my throat like a knot of magma ready to spew.

“It’s Jeremy,” I seethe. “His arm and neck are full of bruises.”

“And?” Sam snaps. “Did he get hurt at school?”

“He said he got hit playing basketball in gym class.” My voice tightens. “But it’s bullshit. He couldn’t even look me in the eye. And he just took a nasty fall on the ice, right on his injured arm. I know it was his father who did it, and I want that fucking bastard here.Now.”

Sam grabs me by the arm and leads me to an empty office. Carter follows behind and closes the door behind us.

“Look, you can’t just assume his father caused those injuries by looking at him. He could have gotten those bruises in gym class like he said. Hetoldyou he did. Why don’t you believe him?”

I rake a hand through my hair, gritting my teeth. “Because I can tell, okay?”

Sam shakes his head. “Not good enough, buddy. You can’t go accusing people of abuse, okay? Not without any proof. We aren’t here to make assumptions about the home lives of these kids. We are here to help if they come to us, but we can’t make rash moves because of what we think might be happening.”

“I wanna talk to the guy myself,” I growl, driving my fist into the top of the table. “I’ve seen him before and he looks like?—”

“Stop right there,” Sam says, holding up a hand. “You’re going to leave this alone. Until Jeremy comes to us, there isn’t anything we can do. Do you realize the liability if we accuse his father of abuse and it turns out Jer’s story about gym class is true? We’re trying to do good here, Jack. We’re not social workers.”

“And so if we see something that looks suspicious, we should just ignore it?” I stick a finger in his face. “That’s bullshit and you know it. We should at least alert CPS.”

“Our hands are tied unless Jeremy speaks out.” Sam is quiet for a minute. “Did you ask him if his father hurt him?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Okay, so how are you going to justify taking this case to CPS? The kid didn’t even mention his dad.”

“Sammy, what if he’s scared?” My voice drops. “What if he’s afraid of what might happen if he speaks up? We don’t know much about the parents of these kids. The dad might be a total fucking psychopath. Should we send him home with a guy like that?”

Sam lets out a deep sigh and exchanges a look with Carter. “If you make an accusation without any authority, you’d be sending him home without any protection. He’d be at this guy’s mercy. How would that be better?”

“There has to be something we can do to protect him.” I fist the sides of my hair. “If nobody is willing to help him, he’s gonna end up…”

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