Page 67 of Comeback
“Lyin’ ass bitch,” Trevor muttered under his breath. He snatched his phone off the table and ended the call before Jack could answer. “Think you’re pretty clever, don’t ya? You’re gonna pay for that. Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, believe me.”
Trevor turned to Mackenzie. He bent over and patted his thigh, as if he were calling over a dog. “Mackenzie! Here, girl, here! What’s the matter? Don’t you remember me? It’s me, Daddy!”
Mackenzie looked frightened and ashamed as she shook her head no.
“Well, that’s because we haven’t seen each other in so long! Come here! Come on! Come over here!Dammit, come here!”
Mackenzie stared at Nicole and Jeff, fidgeting with her hands nervously.
“Oh, are you worried about them?” Trevor asked. “We’re just playing a game. Cops and Robbers. You wanna play? We’re the good guys.They’rethe bad guys.”
Mackenzie stared at her feet. Slowly, she nodded her head.
“Good! That’s what I thought. Now come on over and say hi to Daddy.”
Trevor held his arms out towards her, his fingers wiggling.
I felt so powerless, so helpless. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell her to run—there was nowhere she could go, no way she could escape. If I couldn’t outrun or overpower Trevor, how the hell could she?
We were trapped.
Slowly, Mackenzie took a step forward.
Chapter 27
Jack
I twisted the cap off the beer bottle and knocked it back. The bubbles burned at my throat as they rushed past.
“So what happened the night Soupy died?” Dane asked again.
“You already know most of it,” I said. “We’d just beat Los Angeles, and everyone was gathered at my house to party. Soupy was acting a little strange all night, but I didn’t think anything of it. Around 2 AM, he pulled me aside. He said he had something important to tell me.”
“You mean, hetoldyou?” Dane asked.
“Yup.”
“I figured maybe you caught him and Megan together or something …”
“Nope. He came clean.” I shook my head. “Don’t know why. Anyway, he pulled me away from the party. It took him forever to work up the courage to spit it out—and you know what a prankster Soupy was, so I thought for sure this was the beginning to another one of his pranks. He was shaking, real nervous like, and he told me he couldn’t keep living this lie, and he needed me to know before I found out on my own.”
“Jesus,” Reavo mumbled. He looked like he still couldn’t believe it. “Then what?”
I shrugged. “Then he told me. He said he’d been sleeping with her for the past two and a half years. He told me they’d fallen in love. That they actually told each other, ‘I love you.’ I didn’t believe it. Literally, I could not believe it.Ibarely had time to be with Megan with all the travel and games and practices and workouts—so how the hell didhefind thetimeto get with her behind my back? The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that this was another one of his epic pranks, and I started laughing, told him to shut the fuck up. I wouldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. Not my best friend—not Megan. They wouldn’t do that to me. Ithadto be a prank.”
“Then what?” Dane asked.
“He pulled out his phone. He said he really didn’t want to show me this, but it was the only way to convince me.”
“So what’d he show you?”
“Nudes. He had nudes. Some of them she’d sent to me, but most of ‘em she hadn’t. Maybe that was the part that hurt the most—I’d almost rather have never seenanyof them than onlysomeof them. If she’d done something for his eyes only, okay … that still sucks, and I’d still break it off with her … but knowing that she’d sent me nudes to get me all excited, when she wasreallytaking those pictures for my best friend? I never felt like a bigger ass in my life after seeing that. My whole life felt like a joke. I had money, I had fame, I had my childhood dream, I could be a Stanley Cup champion next week. But what didanyof that matter when the two people closest to me could stab me in the back like that? I hadnothing,boys. Nothing.”
My former teammates shook their heads in stunned silence.
“Fuckin’ Soupy,” Reavo growled, slamming his fist against the island bar. “Goddamn idiot couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
“That was pretty much what I said, too,” I said. “I was furious. I threatened to tell the whole team what he’d done, but he begged me not to until after the Finals because he was sure it’d cost us the Cup. Somehow, that made me even more mad—why couldn’thehave waited until after the Finals to tell me? How was I supposed to be able to play in the biggest playoff series of my life after learning about that? He didn’t know what to say. I asked him to fight me, but he wouldn’t fight back. He put his arms behind his back and told me to punch him. So … I did. Slugged him right on the nose. I thought it’d make me feel better, but hell, it didn’t. He just fell down and got back up again and asked me to do it again if it’d make me feel better. Said he deserved it all and more.”
