Page 72 of Heat Exchange
“I’ll be right there,” Aidan said. When Scotty followed Porter out without another word, he unzipped his bag and popped open his locker.
It sucked. He and Scotty had been tight since they were teenagers and, though they’d had some disagreements over the years, this was a bad one. Scotty hadn’t swung on him, which was goodandbad. He didn’t want to fight his best friend, but Scotty being quiet often meant he’d decided something wasn’t worth his time or effort anymore.
By the time Aidan hit the ice, the others were warmed up and they fell into an easy rhythm. They’d all been playing hockey together a long time—whether just for fun or for the league—but they’d decided this year they were going to step up the practices. They’d had their asses handed to them by the police department’s hockey team in their last charity matchup and that shit couldn’t happen again.
There was a lot of trash-talking and name-calling, along with a lot of laughter, and for a little while Aidan almost felt as if everything would be okay eventually. It would take a while. But he and Scotty were practically brothers and, like brothers, they’d find a way to get through this and maybe even come out stronger on the other side.
Then he and Scotty reached the puck at the same time and Aidan realized at the last second that Scotty wasn’t slowing down. He barely had time to turn his body before his best friend checked him into the boards so hard he dropped to his knees, sucking air.
For a few seconds, he let himself believe it was an accident. But then Scotty slapped the puck and skated away without offering him a hand up and he knew the hit had been deliberate.
He shoved himself to his feet and, leaving his stick on the ice, took after Scotty. His friend watched him come, a sneer twisting his mouth, and then he dropped his stick and gloves onto the ice. Aidan flung his gloves to the side and led with his right.
Scotty jerked his head back so it was only a glancing blow. They grappled, and Scotty tried to come up underneath with a blow to his ribs. Aidan shoved hard against him, looking for room to get a swing in. He connected with Scotty’s cheek, but Scotty’s left grazed the corner of his mouth and Aidan tasted blood.
Enraged, he hit Scotty in the gut and then threw him down on the ice. With his practice jersey clenched in his left fist, he cocked his arm back, ready to drive his right fist into Scotty’s face. Somebody caught him from behind, dragging him backward.
Scotty scrambled to his skates, still coming, but Gullotti wrapped his arms around him from behind and held tight.
“What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” Gullotti bellowed. “Cut the shit.”
Aidan strained against whoever was holding him, but he wasn’t breaking free so it was probably Porter. “I got more, Kincaid, if you wanna keep going.”
“Fuck you, Hunt.”
“That’s it.” Gullotti shoved Scotty away. “We’re done here. You guys give us a few minutes to get this one outta here and then he can change.”
Aidan relaxed, but Porter didn’t release him. “I’m good. You’re breaking my freakin’ arms, dude.”
“And you ruined my hockey time, so be thankful it ain’t your kneecaps, too.”
He sat on the players’ bench and waited until Gullotti sent a text to Porter telling him the locker room was clear. Porter showed him his phone’s screen.
Tell Hunt to go directly to the house.This shit will stop.
Aidan snorted. “You ladder guys can be real pushy.”
“Walsh isn’t here and somebody’s gotta keep you guys in line. It’s gonna be Cobb that reams your ass, anyway, not Gullotti.”
Porter wasn’t wrong about that. Cobb was waiting for him in the second-floor office, and Scott was already seated in one of the two chairs on this side of the paper-covered desk.
“Sit down,” Cobb said. “And if either of you two morons even thinks about throwing a punch in my office, I’ll knock you both senseless with a five-pound sledge. Tell me what’s going on.”
Both men sat silently, arms folded and gazes fixed on spots over Cobb’s head. He was the equivalent of the school principal and no matter how pissed off they were, neither Aidan nor Scotty was a rat.
“So now you put up a united front. Idiots. Look at you.” He gestured to their faces, which probably weren’t pretty. “You two are brothers. Not just on the job, either.”
“Makes it even more fucked-up that he’s banging my sister, then, don’t it?”
His eyes widened. “I hope like hell you don’t mean Ashley or I’ll need to contain Walsh. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, tell me that’s not why they separated.”
“He’d be dead already,” Scotty said quietly.
“Lydia, huh?” The captain leveled a look at Aidan. “That true?”
He thought about his answer for a few seconds. He wasn’t going to lie, but he wasn’t going to let anybody disrespect Lydia, either. Even her brother. “I object to that description of our relationship.”
“Oh, excuse me,” Scotty said, his voice dripping with fake sincerity. “It’s fucked-up that he’s having sexual intercourse with my sister. Is that better?”
