Almost Perfect

by Doyle, Dawn

  “You don’t get it, do you?” I snapped, tearing myself away out of his hold, my temper flaring with every passing second.

  “Kaia, wait,” he begged when I backed up to the door. “Don’t go.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t look at you right now,” I sobbed, the thick, hot tears taking me by surprise. “I have to leave before I say or do something that I’ll regret.”

  He straightened, and made a move for me again. “Are you breaking up with me?” The hurt and pain in his face tore at my heart, sending more tears over my lids. “Babe, I lo—”

  I held up my hand to stop him. “Just don’t, okay? Whatever you were about to say, don’t.” I shoved the book against his hard chest, slamming it against his gray T-shirt. “It’s not about you keeping the fucking journal, Maddoc.”

  “Then what?”

  I huffed out a breath and slowly shook my head. “You’re a smart guy—I’m sure you can read between those lines.”

  ***

  “Kai, honey?” Daria asked, creaking open my door. “Can I come in?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. Too many days had gone by without seeing her, and I needed her. My self pity was holding strong, but my best friend was more important than wallowing.

  “Oh, babe,” she breathed, climbing on my bed. She pulled me toward her and I crumbled to pieces. “Let it out, girl, I’m here.” She rubbed my back while I gripped my covers to my face, sobbing my heart out into the fabric.

  “He lied to me,” I choked. “He turned up in all those places because he knew where I’d be, just waiting to protect me like a knight in shining fucking armor.”

  “I know,” Daria soothed. “Honey, I have to tell you something, and I want you to listen hard, okay? I need you to let me finish talking before you say anything.”

  “What is it?” I asked, pulling back from her just enough so I could peer up at her over the covers. “Is Maddoc okay?” Why was I so worried about him? Oh, yeah, because I was stupidly in love with him, even if I was mad as hell.

  A tight smile formed on Daria’s lips. “No, he’s miserable and taking it out on the team, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you.”

  My heart lurched in my chest, but I didn’t want to ask any more; it hurt too damn much. “Okay.”

  Daria held me close again. “Cash and I had a huge fight last night,” she rushed out, and I shot back. “It’s fine.” She pulled me back in and resumed stroking my back. “It was because he knew everything Maddoc had done, and he was involved.” She paused, but I kept my lips tight. I wanted to get up, call Cash and ask him what the fuck, but I managed to keep my composure, even if the adrenaline burning through my system wanted to do something else. She went on to describe the guys going to Anton’s, Maddoc finding the journal, and secretly keeping it. Cash didn’t see anything inside, but Maddoc made it his mission to intercept Anton at every turn, messing with my car, and even switching our cases so I’d have to return his… “I think you need to talk to him, babe. He’s hurting right now, and I think listening to him would help. He cares about you more than you know, and this little hitch can be smoothed over if you let him explain why he did what he did.”

  “Not right now,” I choked, my sobs still coming thick and fast.

  She searched my eyes and my face, then her lips tightened as though giving up. “Turn on your phone, get your messages, and then decide if you want to talk to him, okay? There’s a lot more to this than you know.”

  I pushed myself to sit, and she dropped her hands. “Like what?” I grabbed a tissue and wiped my wet face. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  Daria patted my hand. “Turn on your phone.” She left my room after handing it over to me.

  I powered it up and read the messages as they came through.

  ‘Babe, I’m sorry, please pick up.’

  ‘Cupcake, please talk to me.’

  ‘I have to get on the bus soon, and I don’t want to leave things like this before I go.’

  A single drop rolled over my lid and down my cheek. I checked the time of the message—he would already be gone, and almost there.

  ‘I’m on my way to Atlanta. When I get back, I’ll tell you everything, okay?’

  ‘Babe, I know I fucked up, and I want to make it up to you, just tell me what I need to do.’

  The messages stopped there. My finger hovered over the voicemail button, and I closed my eyes before pressing it. The moment I heard Maddoc’s voice, searing pain tore through me, threatening to tear me apart.

  “Kaia,” he sighed. “I couldn’t wait until I got back to tell you this. I did something shitty, I get that. I should’ve told you from the start, but if I had, then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to figure out where we went wrong all those years ago. When I found out it was something that could’ve been fixed with one sentence, I was so fucking relieved, but also pissed as hell. All that time wasted when we could’ve been together. I don’t blame you at all—I blame myself for not opening my mouth and just asking you why you hated me so much.” The sounds of his deep breathing tugged at my heart, the slight tremble evident in my ear. A long breath sounded into the receiver, Maddoc’s shaky tone causing fresh tears to stream down my face. “I know why you’re so upset—I did the same thing that pissed you off, coming to your rescue when you didn’t need, or want me to.” He let out a laugh, louder than before. “Hell, you’re scary all on your own, cupcake, and I have no doubt that you could’ve handled things just fine. I was selfish, though. I did everything possible to spend every minute I could with you, and for that, I’m not sorry.”

  “You idiot,” I blubbed to no-one.

  Maddoc’s long breath sounded again, and I held the phone closer to my ear. “You’ve always been my girl, Kaia, and I think, deep down, you know it too. Babe, I—” The call cut off, the voicemail ending there.

  I bolted upright, my heart racing so fast as I hurled myself out of bed that the room spun. “I’m such a stupid, stupid, girl!”

  “Kai?” Daria asked, running into my room, panic written all over her face, her brown eyes searching mine. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I panted, my breaths quickening in time with the rapid increase of my heart rate. I rushed over to Daria and yanked her toward me, squeezing her tight. “God, I hope he can forgive me.”

  “I’m lost, what happened in the ten minutes I was out of here?”

  “I came to my senses, that’s what,” I replied, pulling back. “God, why didn’t I see what was right in front of me?”

  Recognition flashed in Daria’s expression, her eyes softening, and a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “For a smart girl, you sure are slow on the uptake.” When I frowned, she giggled. “Come on, Kai, we’ve got a lot to talk about.

  And we definitely did. I gave her my theories, and Daria agreed, adding extra details that I hadn’t known. The years Maddoc and I had spent apart when it could’ve been avoided if I’d stood up for myself sooner.

  I was the asshole here, and it was up to me to make it right.

  “What did I tell ya?” Daria asked as she popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Romantic.”

  Yeah, it was. I just hoped that the guy that had stolen my heart that night in the closet wasn’t about to shove it back in my face.

  Chapter 19

  Maddoc

  We were down one goal by the second period, and the other team were goading us, the grins on their faces getting on my fucking nerves.

  Kaia hadn’t called, or texted, and I didn’t have any fucking clue if she’d even gotten mine or my long-winded voicemail since I’d left them more than a day ago. When the call cut off, I didn’t bother calling again to finish my sentence. I’d fucked up. No matter how trivial it seemed, it was big for Kaia—I knew that, but I’d done it anyway. I was a fucking prick.

  “You’re going down, Dass,” the Eagles’ captain spat behind his mouth guard. “Your game is shit.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Armand,” I snapped back, rolli
ng my eyes, already bored. I wasn’t in the mood for his trash talk. “Just get out of my face and play the fucking game.” He was right, though. My game was less than stellar, and I had to pull my head out of my ass if I wanted to beat the fuckers.

  “Let’s go,” Channing said as he came on to the ice to replace Burns, patting my shoulders and gently pulling me back. I hadn’t realized I’d moved toward Armand. “He’s not worth getting kicked off for, man.”

  Armand snickered. “Yeah, Dass, go to your zone like a good little boy.”

  I gripped my stick as hard as I could, and clenched my jaw. “Don’t.”

  “Hey, man, chill,” Cash said, skating in front of me and pushing me back to our zone. “He wants to see you lose your shit.”

  “Maybe he’s going to,” I replied, my eyes not leaving Armand’s grinning face. I wanted to smash it to fucking pieces. “I swear, just one more fucking word from that asshole, and I’ll break my twig over his fucking head.”

  “Jesus,” Cash hissed. “Just move.”

  I turned away and ignored the chants of the crowds to fight, hearing the voice over the speakers telling the spectators that the situation looks like it was dissolved, and now back to some hockey.

  I glanced to Jonah, and then to Tanner, signaling the play we’d discussed. The whistle blew and I took control in the face off, hitting the puck to Jonah. I skated forward through the middle as Tanner took my flank, receiving the puck from Jonah with ease. But we were intercepted, two bodies coming up to our left, checking us both at the same time, a brutal takedown that wasn’t allowed.

  “What the fuck?” I roared, snatching my helmet off. My soaking hair hung down over my brows, sweat dripping into my eyes.

  “Sorry, princess,” the other team’s defense player said in a mocking tone, laughing at me. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Maddoc,” Bobby warned, but I ignored him.

  I bolted forward, throwing my stick and tearing off my gloves. “I’ll fucking show you hurt, you prick!” I yelled. I gripped his jersey and yanked hard, dragging him toward me. I reared my arm back, clenching my fist as tight as I could and swung out, connecting with his jaw. His head snapped to the side as I punched him repeatedly.

  “Dass!” coach roared, fury engulfing his tone, but it didn’t deter me, neither did the hands trying to drag me back or the voices urging me to stop. “Get your damn hands off of him!”

  I shoved the player back, sending him flying over the ice. I shrugged my teammates off of me and lifted my hand. “Go fuck yourself!” I yelled, flipping him the bird.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bobby asked, handing me my gloves.

  Tanner held out my stick, skating next next to me as we made our way back to our zone. “Man, what’s set you off?”

  I ground my jaw, pursing my lips as I scowled all the way back to my spot. “Nothing,” I lied. I got into position, my stick extended, blade on the ice, waiting for the ref to drop the puck.

  Armand stared at me, dark eyes boring into mine, just waiting for me to slip again. “You’re going to lose, Dass,” he sneered, his lips curling, revealing the white and red guard that matched their jerseys.

  “What?” I hissed.

  I’ve already lost the woman I love because I couldn’t pull my head out of my ass soon enough.

  “Just give up and go home, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

  I made the mistake of hesitating, letting him get to me when shit like that would only make me laugh. The second the puck touched the ice, it was gone, handed back to Armand’s wing.

  “Go!” I yelled to my team, watching at they raced the players to our goal, thwacks and crashes of sticks hitting each other, the coarse sounds of blades scraping over the solid surface of the ice as they turned and darted off, fighting to get control back.

  I set my sights on Armand, and shredded the fuck out of the play, tearing it up after him. The second he had the puck, gliding it away from my guys, I had him.

  “Maddoc!” my name was roared, but I ignored it.

  My legs powered on, the blades of my skates digging deeper. Armand was fast, but I was faster. I turned my shoulder, speeding up, and readied myself for impact. I lunged, shoving upwards with my torso. A sick crunch sounded as we collided, my body slamming into Armand’s so hard, the boom of the impact was like a damn explosion. The boards rattled, sending the spectators flinching back in their seats, the sounds of the crowd’s gasps and winces echoing around me.

  We fell to the ice, the puck sliding away. Cash took control, tapping it side to side, finishing the play with a swift assist from Jonah, the goal bringing us dead even.

  I gripped Armand’s jersey, tugged him up, then smashed him back down, getting in his face. I spat out my guard, and bashed my helmet against his. “Don’t try to fuck with me,” I growled, my entire being geared up for a fight. “I’m called Mad-dog for more than one reason.” I dropped his ass down. “Keep up this shit, and you’ll see that reason close up.”

  “Come on,” Tanner said, gripping me and pulling me back.

  Cash took my other side. “Get your head out of your ass, man,” he said into my ear as we made our way to the benches. “Do you want to be ejected?”

  I ground my jaw as I breathed heavily, hot air blowing from my flared nostrils as my teammates guided me away from doing something stupid.

  “He’s fucking with your head,” Tanner offered as I grabbed my water bottle. “Fuck, Mad, anyone can see you’re off your game—he’s taking full advantage.”

  I swallowed my water, eyeballing him, not blinking for a fucking second. “I’m not fucking stupid, Tanner, he’s using the same bullshit tactics everyone uses on me.” Only this time, they were working. I’d usually laugh, brush it off like it was a playground insult, which got the other side so fucking riled up that it only made me laugh harder. Not this time. Not knowing if I had a girlfriend to go back to once this game was done was fucking with my head.

  Girlfriend. That was rich. Kaia was so much more to me than that, and once I finished with this shit show, I was going to do something I swore I’d never do… For anyone. I was going to grovel, on my hands and fucking knees if I had to, and beg her to give me another chance.

  Fuck!

  The whistle blew and we made our way to the face off circle, ready to play.

  I set down my blade, eyed up Armand, and tensed my thighs, ready to fuck shit up.

  The ref dropped the puck, but I didn’t look. I watched Armand’s eyes drop to where it was about to land, and right at that point his face dropped, I hit. I pushed forward, locking our sticks together, hooking mine around his, turned the blade up, and yanked back. The unexpected maneuver took him off his feet and sent him sprawling out on the ice on his stomach.

  The ref blew the whistle, and Armand got up, rushing me and barging his chest against mine.

  “What the fuck, asshole?” he roared into my face, but I simply smiled. “Hooking? Seriously? Is that how you’re going to play this because your team’s a fucking joke?”

  “Enough, guys, back off,” the ref yelled, getting his hands between us and pushing us apart. “Dass, watch yourself. Another shot like that and you’re off.”

  I didn’t bother contesting him; I knew what I’d done, and it was intentional. My mood was growing worse by the fucking minute, and the only thing I could do to ease the pain that was scraping the fuck out of my insides was to lash out. Who better than the opposition?

  “Dick,” Armand spat.

  I leaned over, my blade down, facing him. I glared, not breaking eye contact, and without blinking. The corner of my mouth tilted when he narrowed his lids, but he did a shit job of hiding the worried glint that flashed for a millisecond.

  The whistle blew, and I immediately regretted my decision to freak him out. Armand took control of the puck, passed to his wing, who then hit the puck to his buddy. They were fast, but Bobby was ready to intercept. Our personal grizzly sped after the player with the puck, and checked him, se
nding him off course.

  “Bobby!” Cash yelled, circling toward him when he about-turned to skate backward.

  I was too late. Their defense had already taken the puck and shot past us, sending it to the back of our net. The buzzer sounded, and their fans stood, their arms up in the air as they roared their teams’ victory.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I yelled. I lifted my stick, anger rolling from me as I brought it down onto the ice, over and over, small shards flying up with every hit. I panted hard when Channing grabbed my stick to stop me. “We fucking had it!”

  “We did, but their play beat ours,” Channing fired back. “For fuck’s sake, Mad, focus!”

  I moved chest-to-chest with him, glaring at him, the unwavering rage still running rampant inside me. “What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” I growled. “All I’m trying to fucking do is focus, Chan.”

  He shook his head, and pushed me back. “No, you’re not. Something’s got your mind occupied.”

  “Get over here!” Coach yelled as the whistle signified the end of second period.

  Cash slapped me on the back as we reached the benches. “You know what’s about to happen, right?”

  Yeah, I did, and the second we made it to the locker rooms to take a breather, coach laid into us, mainly me. He had a point. As the captain, I was giving a poor show out there, and to bring us back from losing, I had to get my head back in the game. But, all I could see was Kaia’s face, the disappointment, the hurt... I’d done that. If only I’d told her from the start.

  Where would you be then? Still watching her from afar?

  Yeah, that wasn’t an option. There was no way I was ever going back to that. Kaia was mine, now and always.

  “Get in here,” coach growled, gesturing for me to follow him into the space at the back of the locker rooms. “What the fuck is going on? You’re a fucking maniac out there, and not the kind that I like. Your play’s are off, your control is slipping, and you look like a teenager who’s got the worst case of blue balls in the fucking world.”