Once Upon a Power Play

by Jennifer Bonds

  “What is there to figure out?” she asked, her words dangerously low. “You’ve been manipulating me from the first moment we met. And you know what? I’m done. Done with the manipulation. Done with the lies. Done with this whole fake relationship. You need to leave. Now.”

  “What are you talking about?” Did she really believe this was all some elaborate ruse? What? That he’d used her to get Kelsey back? To get more press? “You can’t really believe that? After all the time we’ve spent together?”

  “Did you take a shot to the head?” she asked, ignoring his questions. She gripped the door so hard her knuckles turned white. “What part of ‘leave’ don’t you understand?”

  Quick as a flash, she reached behind the door and grabbed something. His jersey. She flung it at him, hitting him square in the chest. He took a step back, shock rippling through his body. “Maybe this will clear it up for you. I never want to see your face again.”

  Clutching the jersey to his chest, with Chloe’s scent clinging to the soft fabric, he stood there speechless as she slammed the door and locked it. The sound of the bolt sliding home rang out like a gunshot in the silent hall. He finally understood what it meant to be shot through the heart. And it hurt like a motherfucker.

  Chloe pressed her back to the door and slid down the cool metal surface. Crumpling to the floor, she pulled her knees to her chest and tucked in her chin. She would not cry over Ryan Douglas. Not again. He’d already gotten too many of her tears and too many sick days. She was tapped out, both physically and emotionally. Only it seemed her stupid body hadn’t gotten the message. Fresh tears leaked from her eyes, which meant another headache was sure to follow. Fan-freaking-tastic. Just what she didn’t need.

  How could she have been so stupid? Letting herself get swept up in the fairytale, thinking maybe she could be enough for a guy like Ryan when she hadn’t been enough for Shane the Speedo or, hell, even Dave the Douche. Happily Never After. That would be her story. It was more apparent than ever.

  A sob wrenched from her throat. Using the sleeve of her sweatshirt, she wiped the tears from her eyes, knowing it was a futile effort. More would spill before the night was through. And why did it have to hurt so freaking bad?

  A dozen times before she’d thought her heart was broken, but each of those hurts paled in comparison to what Ryan’s betrayal made her feel. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop crying. Even her chest hurt, as if she’d been pummeled by love, as if a broken heart were an actual physical ailment. And there was no doubt her heart was broken. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen for Ryan. Hard. Despite her best efforts to shut him out, he’d slipped past her defenses.

  This thing with Ryan? It might have been the real deal if he hadn’t gone and fucked the whole thing up. Stupid-controlling-two-timing-good-for-nothing-lying-son-of-a-bitch.

  Chloe shuddered. For the first time in her life, telling it like it was made her feel worse, not better. The tightness in her chest refused to subside, and every time she thought of Ryan—in any context—it seemed to get worse. The idea of never seeing Ryan’s smiling face again? It was like a penalty shot to the heart. Without him she felt…empty.

  For a brief moment, she wished she’d kept the stupid jersey. She’d slept in it every night. The damn thing was probably drenched in her tears. Even though his duplicity had shredded her heart, the stupid jersey brought her comfort, reminding her of the good times they’d shared before it had all come crashing down. Still, she’d meant what she said, she didn’t want to see him again. It was too hard.

  Tonight’s visit had proven it. She’d nearly caved. The way he’d looked at her with those pleading eyes? One touch and she’d have let him in. No, she’d just have to learn to live with the pain. Letting Ryan get that close again would be lethal to her resolve.

  After all, even if he hadn’t kissed Kelsey—and that was a big if because she wasn’t convinced he hadn’t—he’d still lied to her. It didn’t matter if it was a lie of omission. He could’ve told her what happened. Instead he’d hidden it, hoping she’d never find out.

  Lies and subterfuge?

  That was hardly the foundation for a healthy relationship. While she’d been blissed out, basking in the glow of the perfect New Year’s kiss, he’d been plotting to keep secrets from her. And if he lied about something like this, what else would he lie about? What else had he lied about? He’d been in control since the day they met. She’d refused to acknowledge it, but how many times had he convinced her to do something she didn’t want to do? Using her job and her involvement with Garden of Dreams as leverage. At the time she hadn’t thought much of it, but now? In retrospect, she couldn’t help but wonder if each of his moves had been calculated. Did she even know him at all? The Blueshirt Challenge, sneaking cookies to the kids, their time at The Garden, Gremlins. Had any of it been real? Maybe he’d been playing her from the start, feeding her all the right lines to bring her defenses down.

  No.

  She refused to believe it. She knew Ryan better than that. At least she thought she did. Then again, she never would have believed he was sucking face with Kelsey just moments before kissing her either. It was… It was sick. Twisted. Egotistical. How could that be the same man who held her close and made love to her like she was the only woman in the world? How could he be so honorable and kind one moment and morph into a complete jackass the next?

  Her stomach heaved. It was too much. She was going to throw up.

  Covering her mouth, she raced to the bathroom and emptied the sparse contents of her stomach. Afterward, she stood before the sink, splashing cold water on her cheeks and hating the zombified face that stared back at her. No two ways about it, she looked like hell.

  How long would it take for life to return to normal? For the whole humiliating thing to blow over and for people to move on to the next big scandal? How long could she stomach the internet trolls? They were brutal, but even worse was the pitying stares of her friends and coworkers. They’d gone from looking at her like she’d won the romance lottery to looking worried her brand of shit relationship karma might be contagious. Worst of all, she was starting to think they were right.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ryan stood tall, both hands gripping his stick as Coach screamed at him from the bench. Hell, he deserved it. He was having a shitty practice. But try as he might, he couldn’t get his head in the game. All he could think about was Chloe and the way she’d looked at him with those big, sad eyes. Chloe telling him she never wanted to see him again. Chloe who’d had more than her fair share of heartache. Chloe who he’d crushed with his arrogance and lies. It was killing him to know he’d done that to her, that he’d turned out to be exactly the kind of man she hated. To know he’d ruined any chance they had of a future together.

  He scanned the ice, taking in his silent teammates. The line was frustrated with him. It was written all over their faces. Frustration and doubt. Doubt he’d be in any shape to lead them to a win over the Kings, the defending Stanley Cup champs and the same team that had knocked the Rangers out of contention last year. He hated the way his teammate’s confidence in him had been shaken, but he couldn’t seem to focus.

  It was impossible.

  It was the worst fucking timing ever. The team needed the win, but all he could think about was Chloe. The woman had him twisted up in knots. He’d known her all of six weeks and she’d decimated him in a way that Kelsey couldn’t even after six years.

  With renewed focus, he dropped his stick to the ice, preparing for the play Coach called. It was a play he’d made a thousand times before. Faceoff, quick pass, breakaway, pass, shoot. His eyes travelled the ice, taking in the positioning of his right and left wing. Coach blew the whistle and Ryan swept the puck back to Jordy, before taking off down the ice himself. Once he was in position, Jordy would pass the puck back and he’d take the shot. Simple, but effective. The play was all about speed and precision. Done right, he’d have no trouble slipping one past the goal
ie. Ryan froze. Those weren’t his words. They were Chloe’s. Too late he realized he’d missed the pass and completely fucked up the play, once again distracted by thoughts of the woman he loved. The woman who’d broken his heart and shut him out. The puck bounced off the boards and ricocheted into the attack zone as he stared on miserably.

  “What the fuck is going on with you today, Douglas?” Coach shouted, throwing his hands up. “Take a walk. Get off my ice and don’t come back until your head is in the fucking game!”

  Anger sliced through his gut as he stripped off his helmet, his teammates watching his every move. Coach was right. He needed to get it together. Jordy clapped him on the shoulder as he skated by, making his way to the bench. The show of solidarity only made him feel worse. He was the team captain for fuck’s sake. It was his job to build them up, not drag them down. Problem was, up until that moment, hockey had been his whole life. And it had always been enough. More than enough, really. Only now it felt empty without Chloe by his side. He felt empty.

  Ryan stormed into the locker room, stopping in front of his locker. He stared at it for a minute, realizing for the first time that maintenance had pounded out the dent he’d made. It didn’t seem right. Here he was wrecked, barely able to function, and the stupid locker was good as new, as if that fucking article hadn’t ruined everything. No, that wasn’t right. He’d ruined everything. If he’d trusted Chloe with the truth, maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess. Kelsey may have set the events in motion, but it had been his choice that had put him in the penalty box. Drawing back his arm, he punched the locker. The resounding crunch echoed through the locker room.

  “Feel better?”

  Ryan spun around to find Bash watching him curiously from the door. He glared at his teammate, in no mood for sarcasm.

  Bash gestured to his own locker. “By all means, beat the shit out of it if it will help you get your head out of your ass.”

  “Seriously? Do you really want to do this right now? I’m not in the mood, man.”

  “You think I give a damn about your mood?” Bash asked, moving to the opposite bench and taking a seat across from Ryan. “Newsflash. It’s not all about you.” He paused, stripping off his gloves. For the first time, Ryan realized his friend looked tired. Beat, even. Cursing himself, he realized he hadn’t even asked how Bask was holding up in light of Kelsey’s infidelity. “Or maybe it is. Either way, the team needs you.”

  He snorted. “Did you see that last play?”

  “Dude. Why do you think I’m in here playing Dr. Phil?” Bash gave him a lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Look, I know you got a lot of personal shit going on right now and it sucks balls, but we need you.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, motioning toward the ice. “That hack who can’t complete a pass or hit the broad side of a barn? Not going to cut it for the Kings. We need a captain who can lead us to first place. We’ve all worked too hard—you’ve worked too hard—to let it all go to shit now.”

  Ryan leaned his head back, resting it against the dented locker. Bash was right. He owed his team more than heartache and despair. He’d already fucked up with Chloe. The last thing he wanted to do was screw his team over, too. “How’re you holding up?”

  “Been better.” Bash shrugged and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Apparently he didn’t want to talk about it. Not that Ryan blamed him. Kelsey was the last thing he wanted to talk about with his old friend. “So I take it things with Chloe are… What? On the rocks?”

  “More like Judgment Day,” he returned, making an apocalyptic gesture with his hands. “She won’t talk to me. Won’t see me. Wants nothing to do with me. Not that I blame her.”

  “Jesus-fucking-Christ. Since when did you become such a quitter?” Bash shook his head, a sound of disgust on his lips. “The Ryan Douglas I know? He fights for what he wants. Since when has your life ever been easy? You telling me it’s all been handed to you? First round draft pick? New York Rangers’ Captain? Career ending injury no one thought you’d recover from? Come on, man. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  Ryan eyed his friend, frustration pulsing in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to hear it. What the hell did Bash know? Well…maybe more than he’d realized. Bash had been by his side for years, not just as a Ranger, but even during their college days at University of Minnesota.

  Taking his silence as a sign of agreement, Bash continued. “Look, I don’t know Chloe, but I know you. If this woman has you turned inside out, she’s probably worth fighting for. Women like that don’t come along every day.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? It was a lesson Kelsey had taught them both. One they’d learned the hard way.

  “She walked out at the first sign of trouble.” Just like Kelsey, he finished silently. And that was the part that stung the most. He’d been so sure Chloe was true, that she’d seen past all the fanfare and fame to the man underneath. In the end, it hadn’t been enough though, had it? All it took to send her running was one bullshit article on Page Six.

  “I didn’t say she was perfect, just that she must be worth the effort,” Bash countered. “So she fucked up. Haven’t we all? You and I both know this life isn’t easy.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Ryan returned. “Clearly she didn’t know what she was getting into.”

  “Doesn’t mean she can’t handle it.” Bash shrugged and climbed to his feet, stretching his back. “Look, man. Nothing worth having comes easy. You gotta fight for what you want in this life. You taught me that. Just thought you might need a reminder.”

  Ryan remembered too well. Bash had struggled with the adjustment to collegiate hockey, and when his parents split up, he’d nearly quit. Eventually, Ryan had talked him into staying. They’d done extra drills together, put in countless hours on the ice, and shared too damn many beers to count. Theirs was a friendship that would weather time, hockey, and the gossip rags. Would he be able to say the same about his relationship with Chloe one day?

  Maybe Bash was right. He needed to get his head out of his ass. He loved Chloe and he’d given up on her—on them—too quickly. He’d fucked up by not telling her the truth. If he’d been honest, would she have reacted differently? Given him a chance to explain? Stood by him? There was only one way to find out. And sitting on his ass feeling sorry for himself wasn’t it.

  Chloe tugged at her collar, cursing the winter wind that cut right through her heavy wool coat. It was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey, and the forecast was calling for another blizzard. That hadn’t stopped her from grabbing drinks with Liv, though. She was done crying over Ryan the Jerk, and the slight buzz from the alcohol would give her a good night’s sleep before she returned to work in the morning. It was time to pull herself together and move on.

  She sighed. Easier said than done when there was a New York Ranger sitting on her front stoop for all the world to see. She glanced around, confirming there were no photogs in the vicinity. That was the last thing she needed right now. Or ever, for that matter.

  “Don’t worry,” Bash said, rising to his feet and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m alone. The tabloids are only interested in the exploits of the franchise players. A guy like me really has to go crazy to make headlines.”

  What was it with hockey players? Didn’t any of them own a coat? She glanced at her watch. It was getting late. How long had he been sitting on the freezing cold cement steps? More importantly, she wanted to know what he was up to.

  “What are you doing here, Bash?” she asked, temper spiking. No way was she going to feel sorry for him, even if he’d also been on the receiving end of Ryan and Kelsey’s shit-tastic New Year’s photo spread.

  “I just want to talk, if you’ve got a minute.”

  Chloe planted her hands on her hips. “Did Ryan send you? Are you doing his dirty work now?”

  The guy laughed. A full on belly laugh. It only pissed her off more. She was done being the butt of their club jokes.
“You’re kidding, right? Ryan would probably kick my ass if he knew we were talking.”

  “Crisis averted. We aren’t talking.” She stomped up the stairs, brushing past him without meeting his eyes. “I have nothing to say to you. Or Ryan.”

  “Have it your way,” Bash said as she grabbed the door handle. “I just thought maybe you’d want the whole story.”

  Chloe cursed under her breath. She’d had all the truth she could handle. Did she really want to hear anything else? She was just starting to feel semi-normal again, piecing her broken heart back together. The last thing she wanted to do was spiral back into the pits of despair. Unfortunately, curiosity trumped self-preservation.

  Her hand fell from the door and she turned back to Bash. “The whole story?”

  He nodded, his face somber. “I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, this is about more than just one picture.”

  Chloe arched her brow, wondering if she was going to regret her decision to hear him out.

  “Ryan told you that Kelsey tried unsuccessfully to seduce him on New Year’s Eve?” He looked to her for confirmation. She nodded, not trusting her voice. “I thought you’d want to know he was telling the truth. Kelsey admitted as much when she dumped my ass. She tried to kiss him and he pushed her away. Told her he was with you. And that he was happy.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and for the first time she realized how desperately she’d wanted Ryan’s story to be true. Even if they were dunzo.

  Bash grinned, but it was a sad smile. “I can only imagine the look on her face when she heard that. I know it’s hard to believe, but Kelsey’s not a bad person. She had it tough growing up, and it sort of screwed up her priorities in life.”