Page 1 of Triple Puck Valentines

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HUTCH

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Jeremiah. Are you there?” Of course, my big brother would never call me by the name I want. They’ve always hated Hutch. Just like they’ve never understood me.

There is no way I can mention my relationship with Katrina and my best friends. My mother and brother will immediately call their church to pray over me and do an exorcism. The four of us would be considered a sin and scorned.

“Hutch.” Katrina’s beautiful voice drifts over to me.

I wrap my fingers around the phone so tight the case creaks, tempted to throw it against the wall. Just when things are going great for methishappens. My older brother Noah calls and says our mother is seriously ill and I need to come back to Texas. Now.

“I’m here. And it’s Hutch. How many times do I have to tell you?” My voice snarls, a low growl into the phone.

I hit the off button. I know Noah heard her, but I don’t give a flying fuck. He can go screw himself into a hole for all I care.

“Hutch. We’re getting ready to leave. Are you ready?” Katrina’s beautiful voice settles the ire, indignation and irateness that makes my stomach leap into my throat like a bucking bronco. I hate our ranch. I hate that holier than thou life they lead. And I hate that I know they want me to stay there.

Abel, Jesse and I have been with Katrina for six months. We’re going to ask her to marry us. Well, one of us anyway. Legally it can only be one.

I throw my head back and close my eyes, head upraised to the ceiling, for one second. “Hutch.” Her hands rest on my shoulders, lips touch the top of my head.

“I have to leave. My mother is ill. I need to go back to Texas.” There I said it. I wish I can take it back. My heart jumps as if leaping for a goal. My stomach sours.

“I’m so sorry. Of course, you do. Let me tell Abel and Jesse. We’ll make flight plans for you. I hope she’ll be okay.” Her voice almost trips over the words she’s so upset for me. She dips down to a broken whisper.

“That’s fine. Don’t worry. My brother is calling the airline. It’ll be tomorrow some time.” I reach back and tangle me fingers with hers that lay on my shoulders. I have to be with her tonight. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I can’t have them visit or come with. The cruel and venomous words that I know will come out of my mother will hurt my sweet Katrina. I can’t have that.

“I need you tonight, Kat. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I need you all to myself.” Selfish bastard that I am. I can’t share her. I can’t.

“I’m sure that’ll be fine with Jesse and Abel. We’ll go out to dinner and discuss it. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Her voice soothes the metaphorical beast that lives inside of me. The one I call Anger. I have learned to control my issues. But right now, Katrina is the only one that can control it. She raises up on her tiptoes to pluck lightly on my lips. God, I love this woman with my whole being.

“I’ll stay here. You three go. I’m not sure I’ll be good company.” My shoulders hunch down into myself. The mood I’m in I might lay into Kat with acid-filled words and hurt her. Sex is what I use to curb my issues. It’s been working. That’s why they called me a Playboy until I met Katrina. She’s helped me. But tonight I might lose that control.

“No, we’ll stay home and order pizza.” Katrina turned away and hurried to the door, leaving me alone. Blessed silence.

I sit on the sofa behind me, stretching my arms wide along the back, my head slumps back. The hockey session is over for now. Won’t start for two more months, so I have a bit of time to try and straighten things out with my mother and brother.

A heavy hand thumps onto my shoulder, “hey buddy. I hear your mother is sick. I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want us to come with you to Texas?”

“Abel, no you guys stay here. Thanks though.” My heart drops with every thought of going back. The bigotry of my family. They won’t accept Katrina. They won’t accept our relationship with her. They’d call her a slut. That I wouldn’t be able to handle. Kat was made for us, and us for her.

His footsteps faint against the tile floor, Abel walks around the sofa to sit next to me. “You know we’re here for you right? Whatever you need. We’re there. Just call.”

My throat tightens, emotion threatens to overwhelm and flow out like a stream surges toward the ocean. I clear my throat, “thanks. I appreciate it. I really do. We’ll see how it goes. Okay. I’ll keep you guys updated on everything.”

“I don’t want to chase you guys away. This is your house too.”

“Nah. We’ll eat pizza first. Then go and have some drinks. It’ll be fun. Not as much fun as you’ll have.” He winks, leans forward to knock his knuckles against the coffee table. “Want a beer?”

“Sounds great. Thanks.” I plop my face in one hand, Abel stands, and leaves me alone. The silence in the room deafens, but little sounds outside show life. Kat upstairs sings to herself, a country tune her father made famous. Jesse is outside working on something. The clanks make me think it’s his car.

“Here.” A bottle is shoved, knocking against the back of my hand. The ice-cold bottle is a relief from the Southern California warmth. I remove my hand from my face, and roll the bottle between them. The condensation wets my palms, the paper on the bottle tears. I throw my head back, and guzzle the bitter liquid as fast as it pours down my throat. Such a relief. Before I know it the bottle is empty.

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