Page 6 of Twisted Minds

“Anything, Janey.” I mean that shit too. While Sawyer and I have only been friends for a couple of years, I consider them all family. She hangs up and I hand the phone back to Mark.

“Bad then?”

“That’s his sister. Just a bunch of bullshit went down last night. It’s fine.” It isn’t, not even close, but Jane wants us to let it go.

Right now, I plan to go see Coach. Jane wants me to back off, but like hell will I allow someone like Derrick to stay on my team. “Thanks for last night. Really. I wish there was something I could—” His door bangs open and a man with dark-brown curly hair and glasses glares between us.

“What the fuck!” Fire builds in those glassy green eyes. “Don’t do sleepovers, huh?”

“Noah, Christ, what are you doing? This is my fucking room.”

Ignoring Mark, he scans the floor, then goes over to the bed and drops to his knees, looking under it and grabbing something. “I was texting you for my wallet.” He stands with the wallet in hand. “It must have fallen out of my pocket when you were tearing my clothes off before you fucked me.” He glares at me. “Congratulations. His tiny dick is yours.”

Turning, he leaves the room, slamming the door. “Fucking hell.” Mark scrubs his face.

Okay, wow. I um, I didn’t consider he might have a boyfriend. Shit. This looks bad. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. I’m sorry.”

“That is not my boyfriend. That is a demon I summoned from the pits of hell, here to ruin my fucking life.” He groans whichdoes nothing to ease the feeling in my stomach. If anything, it makes it worse.

“But you fucked him?” Last night apparently. Shit. Mark came back from the shower after he’d slept with him, didn’t he? Okay, I did not appreciate the little twist in my stomach. I’m not jealous. I’m not. That would be stupid. Insane even.

“We’re friends.”

Friends who fuck. Great. Not that it matters. It doesn’t. Why do I feel like this? It feels gross and so dumb. I don’t know Mark. I have too much going on in my life right now to deal with someone else’s bullshit like this. “I better get going.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine.” I try to act nonchalantly. What did I really think was going to happen? I don’t know this man at the end of the day. Sure, he helped me out, which I appreciate, but seeing that guy come in here and the real hurt on his face . . . I don’t want to get caught up in this. “Thanks again.”

“Uh, yeah.” I get up, wanting to turn back and look at him, but I keep my head forward, barely hearing him say goodbye before I’m out his door.

I grab some ice from the team nurse on my way to Coach’s office and press it against my eye. Last night it stung, but this morning it’s morphed into a dull throb that’s brought on a headache. Or maybe that’s from the whole situation with Mark. Except there is no situation. I am not disappointed or jealous at all. I’m not.

Heading down to the rink, I ignore my teammates’ curious looks before walking into the coach’s office without even knocking. Derrick had been arrested too, but I’m sure his fatherwill have gotten him out by now so I need to get this over as quickly as possible.

Coach Tremblay lifts his eyes up from the paperwork on his desk as I shut the door. “Hunter? What the fuck happened to your eye?”

Greyson “The Wolf” Tremblay is a big man in his mid thirties who used to be pro. I’m talking top of his fucking league, lethal on the ice pro. His story is inspiring, and I admire the fuck out of him. He doesn’t take shit from anyone. I hope and bet on him being on my side now.

Still, this is a game, and Derrick is an amazing goalie. Unfortunately. It wouldn’t be the first time ethics took a back seat in sports. “I want Derrick off the team.”

“What happened to your eye?” He gets up, shutting his office door.

Ignoring him, I double down. “I want him off the team, Coach.”

He sighs, sinking into his chair and combing a large hand through his dirty blond hair that’s slowly threading with gray I’m sure all of us have helped put there. “What’s going on? What’s with the eye?”

I’m trying to calm down. I’m too amped up. I expected a fight, but I need to calm down and just have faith that he’s as good a person as I think he is. “Last night I was out with friends and my friend got into a fight with Derrick.”

“Where is he now?”

“Jail. Although I’m sure his father’s gotten him out by now.” I know that rich prick would have had someone contact his father as soon as the sun came up. “I don’t want him on the team.”

“You’re asking me to kick our goalie off the team because of a stupid fight between men in their twenties? Let me guess. You were all drunk.”

I know it’s not my place, but I have to say something. After learning why Jane broke up with Derrick, I’m too pissed. Without giving her identity away, I need to say something. “During the summer my friend’s sister reported him for attempted sexual assault. Of course, there wasn’t enough evidence, and with who his father is the charges were dropped. He did it, though. I know she’s telling the truth. Last night, I was out with my friend, and Derrick was there and called her a whore. That’s what led to the fight.”

Coach Tremblay’s jaw ticks. “She pressed charges?”

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