Page 73 of Ice Me Out
“I… I don’t know.” I finally admit.
Slut.
Kurt’s voice echoes in my head, like the night before our wedding.
“Yes.” I say. “Please don’t be mad. I’ll never do it again, I swear.”
Jamie
Fuck.
What started like one of the hottest moments of my life is turning into a fuck up of gigantic proportions.
A part of me regrets teasing Bex about the way she was looking at Connor. She’s looking at me with huge, terrified eyes, shrinking into herself as if she thought I was gonna hit her.
She’s reacting exactly like she did the night we met. She’s scared like she was after Connor and I took care of the assholes who thought they had the right to touch her without her consent.
I inhale a deep, calming breath. Ok. Maybe this is for the best. I’ve been thinking about that night more than once. I hate the idea that Bex might be scared of me. Especially now.
“I’m not mad.” I begin. “But even if I was, I hope you understand that I would never, ever hit you.”
She doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t even need to say it. It’s written all over her face.
“Bex,” I insist. “Why do you think I would hurt you?”
She lowers her eyes, and I fight the urge to touch her to get her to look at me. I’m not going to put another finger on her until she realizes that I would never hurt her.
“I don’t know.” She repeats.
I run a hand through my hair, frustrated. “You do know. Have I ever done anything to make you believe I would hit you?”
This time, she shakes her head. “Not me in particular. But Jamie, you’re a hockey player. My dad wouldn’t let me attend games against Star Cove because he didn’t want me to see Luke. But I used to watch them on TV. All the local stations follow our division one teams. I’ve seen how much you guys fight. Violence is in your nature. Fights erupt on the ice in the blink of an eye. Look at the way you and Connor beat those guys on the pier the night I arrived.”
I knew that was what scared her. “That was to protect you.” I bite out. “Those guys were bigger than you. They thought they could grope you and touch you and fuck knows what they planned to do to you. They thought you were there by yourself, and they targeted you. Guys like that don’t care if you say no, if you beg them to stop. The only way they listen is if they’re confronted by someone closer to their size. I’m sorry if I scared you. But I lose my shit when I see someone use their size to bully and intimidate someone weaker.”
Some of the tension in her shoulders eases, but she isn’t totally convinced.
“When I was younger, I was smaller, shorter than average. I got pushed around a lot on the playground and at recess. My parents sent me to this posh prep school, but kids are the same everywhere, regardless of wealth or social class. I was teased and bullied and hit daily. It got so bad that I started pretending to be sick not to go to school.” I usually don’t like to talk about the years before high school, but Bex looks less intimidated now, so I continue.
“Eventually, my parents sat me down and I told them what was happening. Some of the boys in my class were damaging my books and kicking me around. The girls watched and laughed. No one helped me.”
“Not even the teachers?” Bex asks.
“I couldn’t tell the teachers. It would have made things worse. You know how kids are with snitches.”
The fear in her gaze is replaced by curiosity. “So what happened?”
“I was so depressed that I begged my parents not to send me back to school. All I wanted was to hide.”
She considers my words. “But they sent you back, right?”
I nod. “They did. But before they sent me back, they took me to a doctor. He was a pediatrician who specialized in development and he ran a ton of tests. He told me that I was going to be tall. That for some people, growth happens gradually, but for others it’s in big spurts. That made me feel better, but it didn’t solve my immediate problem.”
“So what happened?” There’s interest in her gaze, not an ounce of pity.
I like that. “My dad had a friend who owned a hockey team. They had a junior division. I knew how to skate, so he took me to the tryouts. He thought that sport would channel my energy in a positive way and it was hockey. I would have to learn to stand my ground.”
There’s a beat of silence. “It obviously worked.” She says.
