Page 86 of Puck Lust

“Dad, he wasn’t a good guy. Trust me.”

“Doesn’t matter in the court of public perception. He could be a total scumbag but trustme, the world has already judgedand Jack was the aggressor. You don’t need to be cast in that shadow, not when your career is about to take off. People will say you’re guilty by association. They’ll assume you’re just like him.”

“I know,” Carter says. “I’m worried that Oakland will want to get rid of him. Pay out his contract because he’s a liability.”

I clench the top of the banister, his words like poisonous darts lancing at my skin.

“Look, you’re a good guy. I get that’s why you wanted to bring him out this weekend. But once you get back to Oakland, you need to stay away from him. Things are going to get bad, especially if this guy takes legal action against him. Jack’s a nice guy, but not worth jeopardizing your career for.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’m being smart about everything. He’s got some baggage. I’m just trying to help. I won’t get too close.”

I clutch my throat like I’m trying to pry away the invisible hand that’s choking me.

Stumbling backward, I flip around and run back into the guest room. My chest tightens, my lungs squeezed like they’re being lassoed by heavy metal chains. I throw all of the stuff into my duffel bag and grab my phone. In seconds, I have an Uber on the way.

I hoist the duffel over my shoulder and dart out of the room, my feet skidding to a stop at the top of the stairs when Carter leaves his room. His dad doesn’t follow, so he’s probably already downstairs.

Good since I can’t stomach the thought of saying goodbye to that narrow-minded asshat.

Carter smiles at me. “Morning. Where are you headed with that duffel bag? We don’t have to leave for a few hours.”

“I have to go now.” I hold up my phone. “Rex messaged. Said he needs me back in the city as soon as possible, I guess togo through his strategy for how to handle all this. But don’t worry. Stay with your family. I called an Uber.”

Carter puts his hand on my arm. “No, don’t be silly. We’ll both go. It’s not a problem. Just give me a minute to throw my stuff into?—”

“No,” I say, my voice sharp enough that Carter recoils. “I have to go now.”

I can’t look at him for a second longer. The ache in my chest has me wincing as I fly down the steps and out the front door. I gasp for breath once I’m outside, that damn invisible hand tightening around my throat. A Toyota Camry pulls up next to the sidewalk and I jog over to it, then pull open the back door. I toss my duffel into the backseat first then slide inside. Pulling the door closed, I keep my eyes forward, not daring to look back. Then I shut my phone down.

I trusted him and he betrayed me in the worst possible way.

He chose them over me. Himself over me. He lied about wanting to be with me, about promising to never leave me alone.

Ironic that for so long he believed that I was the one who only cared about himself.

The shoe’s on the other foot now, and that foot has just stomped on my heart, pulverizing it to the point where it’s dust.

My head spins like a top for the entire trip back to Oakland. The conversation between Mike and Carter loops through my mind over and over like a broken fucking record that just won’t stop skipping.

I fist the sides of my head. I may be in the middle of a shit storm right now, but I need to get my head in the game. Hockey is all I have, and I will fight to keep it. I’ll do whatever I need to make sure I stayon top.

The driver finally slows to a stop next to the curb outside my condo and I push open the door and drag my bag out behind me. With the brim of my LA Dodgers baseball cap pulled low over my dark sunglasses, I keep my head down and make a beeline for the front door of my building.

High heels clatter on the sidewalk and I swallow a groan, flinging the duffel over my shoulder. Fucking paparazzi and reporters are always waiting in the trenches. Thankfully, I think it’s just one this time.

“Jack, there’s evidence that the coach of your junior hockey team, Alex Dalton, had some questionable relations with some of the players a few years back and that others have come forward. Do you have any comments about that?”

What the fucking hell?

I pull my lips together and keep walking, ignoring her.

But she doesn’t take the hint. “You were able to get a pretty huge opportunity with the San Mateo Condors coming out of that last season. Was it just talent that got you drafted? Or was there more to it than just your hockey prowess?”

That’s when I sneak a glance at her and see her shit-eating grin.

“You don’t have to say anything, Jack. Sometimes silence is golden. Although, I can guarantee it won’t be for long.”

THIRTY-ONE

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