Page 77 of Cheap Shot
ChapterTwenty
Cole
“Look who has graced us with his presence again,” Benson announces as he pushes his way through the locker room doors.
I eye him warily as I get closer, trying to see if there are any signs he might want to retaliate for what happened to Jensen as I get closer. But it’s all for nothing. Benson is the picture of ease. His duffle is swung over his shoulder, and a lazy smile appears on his face.
“I didn’t have much of a choice. Coach wants to talk to me.” I run my hand through my hair, a nervous habit I picked up over the years. “Cooper told me to go cool off before speaking to him. He was afraid there might be a repeat of what happened on the ice.”
No one needs to know that I finally unloaded years of baggage onto my brother and then left because I couldn’t handle my emotions. Instead of staying and having a conversation like an adult, I ran away like a coward, just like I did when I signed the deal with the Wolverines all those years ago.
I spent the last few hours driving around the city, really thinking about everything that Cooper said. He’s right about some things and wrong about others, but I don’t know if I will ever be able to forgive him for what happened to Dad. But I want to try to stop blaming him for what happened.Tryis the important word in that sentence. If what he said was true, Dad’s number was up that day, whether he was sitting on the couch, watching TV with us, or on that mountain. It won’t be easy, and things won’t change overnight, but that’s okay.
“I can’t say I blame him. Jensen is lucky you didn’t take his fucking head off.”
“I have a reputation for being a hothead. Someone who acts and thinks about the consequences later.”
“We all heard you warn him to watch his mouth. It’s not your fault he chose not to listen.” His green eyes narrow slightly. “That fucker deserved everything he got. Although if it were me, he wouldn’t have been able to stand after I was finished with him.”
“That’s good to hear. The locker room in Boise had no qualms about disrespecting anyone, especially women. It always made my stomach turn.”
I can’t even count on my hands and feet how many times my ex-teammates gave me shit for telling them to stop being disrespectful. There is a line between poking fun and being disrespectful to the women that hung out around the arena, more interested in bagging their very own player than the game. I always thought to each their own, even having fun with a few of them after games myself. But I never disrespected or talked down to them. Momma raised me better than that. And there’s no way I’m going to stand for anyone else doing it either, especially not when it involves my girl.
Fuck. There I go again thinking of Michele asmygirl, but I can’t say I’m not a fan of figuring out how to make her mine. We kissed and are more than likely headed in that direction, but we haven’t put a label on anything. At least not yet. And once she finds out what happened on the ice today, I wonder if she’ll ever want me to come near her again. Besides, she obviously lives here in Portland, and I’m doing everything in my power to get out of this godforsaken city as quickly as possible. Jensen is one of the front-runners of this season’s rookie class. Coach won’t want me going for Jensen’s throat every time he steps out of line, and there is no doubt he’ll do it again if given the chance.
Benson slaps me hard on the back, bringing my mind back to our conversation. “Chirping at each other is one thing, but disrespecting someone’s girl is something entirely different.”
“Michele isn’t my girl.”
“Sure, she isn’t. And I’m the Dalai Lama.” Benson repositions his duffle on his shoulder, his eyes pinning me in place. “You might not have put a label on it, but she’s yours. You practically pissed on her when you went after Jensen like that.”
“There’s no need to be dramatic, Benson. Anyone else would’ve done the same thing if the roles were reversed,” I respond, hoping that I’m not talking out of my ass.
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” Benson glances down at his watch, his eyes widening slightly. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to get going. The babysitter should be at my place in thirty, and today is my wedding anniversary.”
“Happy anniversary,” I respond with a smile as he jogs down the hallway toward the exit. I wait until he disappears around the corner before pushing my way into the locker room.
The locker room is practically empty, but that’s no surprise. No one usually sticks around after practice is done, emptying in waves—first the rookies, then the veterans, then a good chunk of the coaching staff. I’m sure Coach is still burning the midnight oil, watching films from the rookie players and critiquing all our performances at practice over the last few weeks.
I should head right to his office and learn my fate, but I find myself heading toward the training room instead. The minute I get to the door, I freeze, wondering why my brothers are still here and sitting next to Jensen, sprawled out on a training bench, deep in conversation.
“I don’t get why you three are making such a big deal about a piece of fucking ass,” Jensen groans as he swings his legs over the side of the training bench. “You need to keep your little brother on a leash, or he’ll cost us the season.”
“What makes you think that?” Beau questions, the tone of his voice sounding deadly.
“I’m the best rookie you got this season and the leading AHL scorer for the last two years. I won’t let the lesser Hendrix ruin my chances at the Cup because he doesn’t know how to share.”
“The fuck you say?” I growl, launching myself at Jensen for what seems like the millionth time today, but Beau stops me, wrapping his arms around my waist and spinning me around so his body is between me and him.
I try a few times to get around him and fail. Beau is a lot bulkier than Cooper and solid muscle. I’m not trying to injure myself just to prove a point to this asshole. Although judging by the look in my oldest brother’s eyes, he has plans on doing it for me.
“If anyone is the lesser anything, it’s you, Jensen.” Cooper reaches out to help Jensen stand, gripping his arms around his biceps tightly enough to bruise.
“Ease up, Cooper. That shit fucking hurts.”
“Good.” Jensen’s eyes swing from me to Beau, likely trying to figure out what is happening here, but he doesn’t say a word. Good on him. The last thing I want to do is bust his lip again after the trainer did such a great job of sewing it up.
“You are on borrowed time, Jensen. I would think twice before crossing any of us. We are your team captains, and Cole is our brother. We will always have his back.”
