Bruiser

by Whiskey, Samantha

  “Come on, ref! Are you blind? That was tripping!” Lukas yelled.

  The ref looked straight at him and rolled his eyes.

  “That’s nine-year-old hockey!” a dad from the other team shouted over from about twenty feet away. “Sometimes they fall!”

  Lukas looked at the dad like he’d grown two heads. “Maybe sometimes you fall.”

  Shea snorted in laughter.

  “I should have known better than to invite you goons.” I wrapped my arm around Shea, tugging her against my side. “Faith offered to watch Elliott tonight so we can go to the team dinner,” I told her.

  Her forehead puckered, worry settling back on her shoulders.

  “Hey, we don’t have to. I mean, I have to, but you two can stay at the Penthouse, all nice and snug with Thing 1 and Thing 2,” I motioned back to where our security stood at either end of the bleachers.

  She sighed as the game went on in front of us.

  “Really, it’s okay.” And it was. Elliott’s safety came first.

  We gasped, then roared with cheers when our goalie saved a great shot. We were still down one, but there were four minutes left, and anything could happen in four minutes.

  “There you go!” Gentry shouted. “Way to use your glove!”

  “Why the team dinner?” Shea asked. “I mean, not that I don’t want to go—because I do, but I just didn’t know they were a thing during the season.”

  “We’re playing Ontario on Friday,” I answered, my gut clenching.

  “That’s your old team, right?”

  “Yeah. I guess they do it every year before the game since it’s a rivalry.”

  She chewed on her lower lip.

  “There’s the opening!” Lukas shouted. “Take it! Take it! Skate!”

  The Vance kid broke away, heading for the opposition’s zone.

  “Go with him, Elliott!” Noble yelled. “Think Gretzky! F2! F2!”

  The other team’s parents looked at us again, and it wasn’t flattering.

  “It’s an offensive strategy,” I told them with a little wave.

  One of the dads blinked and shook his head.

  “Settle down. It’s not like the NHL is here scouting them,” one of the opposition’s moms chided.

  Every single Shark turned their head slowly, giving the woman an are-you-fucking-kidding-me-look.

  “Not scouting your kid, that’s for sure,” Lukas muttered.

  The defense knocked it back, and we were once again fighting the puck off in our own zone as the clock counted down and another shift came on.

  “It’s about time you got some fresh legs out there!” Noble snapped.

  One of our own coaches looked up at me and tilted his head. Yeah, I was going to hear about that later.

  “Clear it out of the zone!” Lukas yelled, his voice booming across the ice.

  “Do not pass in front of the net!” Gentry added. “Like that! Good! Use the boards!”

  Now even our own parents were gawking at our little crowd.

  “Sorry,” I apologized with a little grimace. “They get a little into it.”

  One minute left.

  Line change.

  Elliott was out with the Vance kid. He stole the puck and headed up the ice as the clock counted down.

  “Go, baby, go,” I said quietly.

  “Bet you’re wishing she had her tracker in there now, huh?” Shea grinned. “Just reverse it, and she’d hear what you were saying.”

  “Huh. That idea has merit.” I winked. “Totally kidding”

  “Pass it!” Noble yelled.

  The Vance kid got hung up on their last defender, lost his balance and fell, but managed to hit the puck on his way down, sending it straight to Elliott.

  My heart fucking stopped for her.

  “Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.” Shea whispered, her hand clutching mine as the defenders headed straight for her.

  She was taking too long, too hung up on the perfect shot. If she waited much longer, she wasn’t going to have a shot to take.

  “Shoot it!” I shouted, louder than any of the other Sharks.

  As if she’d heard me, she shot.

  The goalie dove.

  The puck sailed over his right shoulder, hitting the back of the net.

  “Go ELLLLLLLLIOTT!!!!!” Shea screamed.

  The buzzer sounded. She’d managed to tie the game before the end.

  Her hands were in the air as her teammates embraced her.

  “She’s pretty phenomenal,” Shea said quietly.

  “She’s amazing,” I countered.

  With the game over, we all headed to the lobby, where we sat at the tables, waiting for Elliott.

  “Are all the wives going?” Shea asked out of the blue.

  “Wives what?” I asked.

  “To the dinner,” she clarified. “Are all the wives, girlfriends, etc., going?”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “But it’s okay, really.”

  She sighed. “The penthouse has great security. As long as we leave Thing 1 and Thing 2 with her, Faith should be fine to babysit. I really appreciate her offer.”

  “Faith’s babysitting?” Lukas asked, coming to stand next to Shea.

  “No, dude. Just no,” Noble said, smacking him on the back.

  “What did I miss?” Gentry asked, coming over with a bottle of water.

  “Nothing,” all three of us answered simultaneously.

  A few minutes later, Elliott came out of the locker room to our resounding cheers. Her coach wasn’t far behind with his own kid.

  Noble had her up on his shoulders, singing We are the Champions, even though they weren’t, but I still cracked a smile.

  “Seriously, all of you?” Coach Ralston asked. “It’s hard enough keeping the kids’ attention, but you five yelling the whole time?”

  “Sorry,” I said. “We’ll try to keep it down next time.”

  He sighed. “We agreed that I was her coach, regardless of your...experience.” He gripped his clipboard like I might take it from him.

  “And you are,” I assured him. No man liked to get bossed around in his own house.

  “But you really might want to talk to them about using their edges,” Lukas suggested.

  Fuck.

  “And your goalie really needs to work on coming out of the net a little, so he has space to make a decision,” Gentry added.

  Double fuck.

  Coach Ralston turned cherry red. “Oh. Is that all?”

  “No, your offense needs to learn to fall back on D when a defenseman skates the puck up. You’re leaving a giant hole—”

  I smacked my hand over Lukas’s mouth.

  “Yep. That’s all,” I said to Ralston.

  “Uh. Huh.” He looked at us with skepticism.

  Gentry made a motion like he was zipping his mouth and throwing away the key.

  Coach Ralston sighed, muttered something about NHL egos, and walked away.

  “That’s the last time I invite you guys,” I said, removing my hand from Lukas’s mouth.

  “Watch out,” Faith said as she walked by, her hand held by the college boy. “I’ve heard that one bites.”

  “Only if you ask nicely,” Lukas said smoothly with a wink.

  Faith’s mouth dropped open.

  “Don’t tease my sister.” Gentry smacked him upside the back of the head, following his sister out.

  “What?” Lukas asked with a shrug when I narrowed my eyes at him. “He said don’t tease her. I wasn’t teasing. I’d bite her if she asked me to.”

  I shook my head and took my girls to the car, thankful it would be more than a couple of years before Elliott started dating.

  * * *

  “So then, the coach comes out and basically accuses us of coaching the kids from the bleachers,” Connor told our section of the longest table.

  The glassed-in event room at the top of the Space Needle had been opened only after Jeanine had pulled some strings, and Paige had used added connection
s. This had been the location for every rivalry dinner, and a little renovation wasn’t going to thwart those women.

  “You were coaching from the bleachers,” Ivy retorted.

  “Whose side are you on, anyway?” he teased, kissing her cheek.

  “Always yours,” she promised, kissing him full on the mouth.

  Shea blushed and looked away from the couple, but not before her eyes dropped to the huge diamond on Ivy’s hand.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked, dying to know what was turning the wheels in her head. I was still on edge but trying hard to relax. Thing 1—AKA Paulson—had told me he’d been about eighty-percent certain that he’d spotted Todd hovering in the parking lot after Elliott’s hockey game.

  I was one-hundred percent ready to smash that asshole to dust.

  “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head a little and picking at her cheesecake.

  “What?” I prodded. Did she want a ring like that? A commitment? If so, I had zero problem going to the local jewel—

  “It was just really fast,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

  “What? Connor and Ivy’s marriage?” I whispered in her ear, letting my lips brush the delicate skin of the shell. I needed to get her home. Naked. Needed to feel her skin under mine, to know she was within my walls and untouchable. Mine.

  “Yeah. I mean, they’re perfect for each other, and they went through so much last year, but still. So fast. How can you possibly know enough about a person that quickly to know that they’re the one?”

  I thought about the first time I saw her, all curves and determination. The first time I lifted her into my arms. The first time she threw attitude at me. The first time I kissed her, held her, made love to her.

  “I guess you just know,” I told her, resting my arm on the back of her chair. “You don’t have to know everything about a person to feel it all just snap into place. To know that there is nothing else in this world that will ever compare.”

  She pulled away, her eyes darting to the table. “I’m sorry. I forgot that you were engaged.”

  “No, I wasn’t talking about—” movement behind Noble’s head caught my attention, and my stomach hit the floor. “Natalie.”

  “You weren't?” Shea asked. “Hudson?”

  I blinked, hoping the vision would go away.

  It didn’t.

  She stood there with a small group that had walked in through the glass doors of the Space Needle’s restaurant.

  Her gaze locked on mine, her dark brown eyes glinting with a determination that told me this wasn’t going to go well.

  “Hiya, Hud,” she said, her voice annoyingly high. Had she always sounded like she had a permanent post-nasal drip?

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, my fingers gripping the back of Shea’s chair.

  “Well, since you haven’t answered any of my texts, I figured this was my next best option.” She put her hands on her hips, her slinky red dress looking downright trashy compared to Shea’s classy black sheath.

  Every head at our table turned to look, swiveling back and forth like we were a tennis match.

  “I did respond,” I said. “A goodbye text. And then I blocked your number.” After that last text, I’d realized there was no reason to leave a road open that led nowhere.

  She scoffed. “Three years together, and you just blocked me?”

  Shea’s back stiffened like she’d finally put the pieces together.

  I didn’t bother to introduce them, not because I didn’t want Shea to know she was Natalie, but because I didn’t want to give Natalie the opening to sink her claws into Shea. We already had Todd out there—I didn’t need another enemy gunning for Shea.

  Another jolt of rage hit my veins. He’d been there, hoping to what? To snatch them? And now I had to deal with Natalie. What a fucking day.

  “Two,” I corrected her, “and you were fucking someone else for a year of it.”’

  “So she was,” a voice came from behind me.

  Every Shark at the table stood, including me.

  Atkins.

  The cocky bastard smiled, first at me, then Gage. That made two of us in this room who had been fucked over by this guy. But seeing as Gage had Bailey, and I had Shea, we’d come out of it on top.

  I mildly wondered if he was still married to Gage’s ex, or if screwing my fiancée had thrown a wrench in that.

  “This is a private event,” Rory said, stepping forward.

  “So we saw,” Atkins said as some of the Ontario players filled in behind him. “Must have some sway if you got the space to host you, seeing as it’s closed to the rest of the public for renovation.”

  “I think you boys need to leave,” Coach said in a tone that wasn’t a suggestion.

  “Come on, Atkins,” one of the Ontario players called out. A quick glance told me it was Pedersen—one of the forwards.

  Atkins didn’t say anything, just smiled slowly at me. “Miss us?”

  “No,” I answered.

  He made a pouty face as Natalie rounded the table and stood just behind him. “Not any of us?” He looked back at her.

  My muscles tensed. Did I miss the team? No. Did I miss Natalie? No. Hell, I hadn’t even missed her when we were on the road. I should have known she wasn’t the one.

  I missed Shea with an ache that distracted me even on the ice when I was at an away game. I hated being separated from her for even the night.

  “Nope. Everything about Seattle suits me better.”

  “So I see.” He ran his eyes up and down Shea, who had turned in her seat, and I saw red. I took my hand off her chair, letting my arms hang loose. Ready.

  “Come on, Atkins,” another player demanded.

  “We’ll see you on the ice, boys,” Coach stated. “You’d best get out of here.”

  The Ontario players started to filter out through the glass doors, but Atkins and a couple of others lingered.

  “Hud, please?” Natalie begged. “Just five minutes?” She held up five fingers, and I saw it—the five-carat diamond ring I’d bought her.

  Shea would have balked at something that big—lectured me about how a charity could have used the money more than her finger.

  “No,” I answered. “And take that ring off. We are not engaged. Not anymore.”

  She had the nerve to look like I’d slapped her.

  “Sorry, darlin’. Guess he doesn’t want to see you,” Atkins said.

  “For her?” she shrieked.

  Ah, there was one of the temper tantrums I hadn’t missed. How much fucking time had I wasted placating her?

  “Excuse me?” Shea snapped.

  “Baby,” I pled, looking down at my very pissed-off redhead. “Don’t bother.”

  “Yeah, don’t bother, baby,” Natalie spat, using my endearment as an insult. “It’s not like you know how to handle him. Look at you.”

  Shea’s eyes narrowed.

  “Get the fuck out,” I snapped at Natalie. “You don't get to talk to her. Or look at her, or even think about her. She’s so far above you that you couldn’t reach her with a fucking space shuttle. Turn around and walk the fuck out.”

  I felt Lukas step closer, partially blocking Shea. Connor stepped to my other side.

  Stubborn woman that Shea was, she stood up, pushing her way into the gap to stand at my side.

  That’s who she was—the woman who would always choose to stand at my side. As long as assholes like Todd kept their distance. As long as girls like Natalie didn’t sink their manicured nails into her. As long as guys like Atkins—

  Don’t go there, whatever was left of my rational brain argued.

  I was on a razor’s edge. I knew it. So did the rest of my friends. Even Noble had walked around the table to stand next to Connor, and Gentry on Lukas’s side.

  Natalie glared at Shea, who dished it right back without saying a word.

  “You heard what our coach said,” Warren cautioned. “We’ll see you on the ice tomo
rrow, but you’re going to have to leave. Now.”

  “Let’s go, Nat. It’s pretty clear that we’re not wanted,” Atkins told my ex.

  “You’re really choosing her over me?” Natalie asked, her voice going soft and wounded—changing tactics.

  “I’ll always choose Shea,” I told her. “Always. Every day. And even if she wasn’t a choice, I’d still make her one. I’d sure as hell never choose you.”

  Natalie sucked in a breath, spun on her heel and marched out with two of the new Ontario players I didn’t recognize.

  Atkins smiled, but not at me...at Shea.

  Something resembling a growl ripped from my chest.

  “Oh relax,” he said to me. “Have a drink. Let loose. It’ll hurt less when I decide to fuck her. Tasty little treat that she is.”

  The earth shifted. Gravity altered.

  A crash filled my ears.

  The sound of screams joined the cacophony.

  And my fist, it pumped up and down, smashing into soft, pliable flesh.

  “Hudson!” her cry split the haze, cleared it enough for me to feel arms around my chest. Not just one pair. Another gripped my bicep.

  Kept me from releasing another punch into Atkins’s face.

  Holy shit, I’d taken him through a table.

  He lay under me, the side of his face already swelling, split open and bleeding.

  “He’s not worth it, Porter. Do you understand me?” It was Gage’s voice in my ear. “I know better than anyone. Trust me. This piece of shit isn’t worth it. And that redhead back there? She loves you. Don’t let him play you like this.”

  Rage simmered in Atkins’s eyes, but he was smart enough not to move or speak.

  I nodded, and Gage loosened his grip, followed by the other players who had stepped forward to do the same.

  Pushing to my feet, I saw that Connor and Gentry had blocked a couple of the Ontario players from entering the fray. But I kept my primary attention on Atkins.

  He stumbled to his feet, touching his cheek and glancing at the blood he brought back.

  “Oh, this is rich. I hope you enjoyed your moment, Porter, because I’m going to have you arrested for assault.”

  My throat clenched, hearing the same words from my father’s mouth.

  “For what?” Gage asked, folding his arms across his chest and standing next to me. “Assault you say? How is that possible?”