Page 7 of Bad Wolf

A new wave of tears replaced the happy ones, and I bawled like a baby, mourning everything I had missed.

Everything I had lost.

The consequences of my actions that fateful night at the end of a blissful summer didn’t just decimate a teenage romance. I didn’t get to wear my first heartbreak like a badge of honor. Like a scar that tells of a lost love.

Didn’t get to hear my friends tell me there were plenty more fish in the sea.

No, the night I sacrificed everything, I got to watch as some of his starlight dimmed.

Worse than that, I got to witness, albeit from afar, this extraordinary and remarkable boy, self-sabotage for nearly six years.

AndI got to live with the fact that I was the cause of it all.

Except I wasn’t. It was the fault of the man that was supposed to take care of me because, you know, I’m his daughter. The man who turned out to be a cheating, scheming, liar with a debilitating gambling addiction. And it wasn’t ponies or Monday night football.

Oh, no that would be too simple. Too normal.

No, my daddy dearest started betting on college sports. Guess what sport in particular? That’s right, fucking NCAA hockey. He broke the cardinal sin of betting and got involved with some low-life baddies who claimed they had aninto rig games. And where was my superstar high school boyfriend headed?

Straight to the top of the goddamn world—Division I, Frozen Four champion, Extraordinaire’s, and the elite, Minnesota State.

I know what you’re thinking. You wonder, well, what’s so special about you? Why would something you did, have such an effect on this person if they were so confident and as great as you make out?

Honestly, not a goddamn thing. There’s nothing special about me, but for some reason, he thought there was.

So that’s my punishment. Well, that and I get to see him plastered across every newsstand, sports channel, and social media site you can think of, along with his nightly conquests.

The exceptional person I am speaking of is the newest and brightest left-winger the NHL has seen in a long time.

The brother of the king of hockey and the most talked about rookie defenseman in a generation. The son of the most loving and supportive parents anyone could wish for.

My Ace of Hearts, Knox Brady Madden.

He’s sitting slap-bang in the middle of the club, next to his cousin, and my ex-best friend, Troy.

His brilliant blue eyes sparkle, and a look of pure happiness plays across his ridiculously handsome face.

“Oh, cruel fate, when wilt though weary be? When satisfied with tormenting me? What have—”

“Raven, stop peeking out there. We’re on in five minutes.”

Breathe, Wren, breathe for God’s sake.

“Trinity. I’m not feeling well.” I place a shaky hand on my head, as I scramble for an excuse.

“Urgh, I’ve got a really bad migraine coming on. You’ll have to do tonight without me. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no way. You have to stay. Charlene’s already called in sick. That’s too many to cover. You’re ready to go, look at you, weird and beautiful as ever. You can’t leave, they’ve paid extra,” she hisses, pointing a finger at the now fully closed curtain.

I bet they fucking have. Jesus, why are they here? They’re supposed to be far, far away.

In another lifetime even.

In the past.

Forget about pretending to be ill, now I’m starting to flush red hot, and the edges of my vision start to fuzz. The ringing in my ears can’t be a good thing either. Trinity starts to fan me and then thrusts a bottle of water at me.

“Shall we all lose the headband, will that help? They’re tight,” she suggests as she tries to corral the other girls to take off the elaborate and intricately beaded headbands while carefully discarding mine.

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