“I don’t belong to anyone,” I spat back out.
Bits of saliva went everywhere, being flung across the space between my mouth and the door. The only thing really protecting me from him. I wasn’t sure at this point if Art counted as protection or not. It wouldn’t be fair to assume he would jump into something clearly not his business when he had no reason to be here. I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted nothing to do with me after today.
Tim started laughing again. The sound rang hollow in my ears and I felt myself shudder.
“Three years,” Tim said from the other side of the door. “Wasn’t it? No. That’s not quite right. It’s been eleven hundred and forty-five days since you left like a fucking coward. Since you snuck a sleeping pill in my food and scampered off like a goddamn thief in the night. I promised myself I would find you. I would not rest until I knew exactly where you were and who you were with. I had to know everything because, like I said, you fucking belong to me.”
“I don’t fucking belong to anyone, you piece of shit!” I screamed before I could stop myself.
Immediately, my eyes went wide and I clamped my hands over my mouth to stop any other idiot thing from flying out of my mouth. I couldn’t believe I said that. I couldn’t believe I called him that. Sure, it felt good and he totally deserved it, but that didn’t mean I needed to stoop to that level.
I took a deep breath. I counted backward. I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. I needed to get my shit together. I needed to calm down. Letting him get to me gave him power and control. Which meant he won. And I didn’t want him to control my reactions. And I didn’t want him to win anymore.
“I see you’ve developed a bad attitude since you’ve been away from me,” Tim said slowly. I hated how sane he sounded, how in control. He always managed to turn the situation around, make me be the one at fault even if it was him,
It was always him.
“We’ll have to fix that.”
I felt my skin pale. My hands began to shake.
I wasn’t going to deal with this anymore. Not when I finally had control of my life. Not when I was free.
However, I needed to figure out how to get myself out of this mess. Because I knew Tim. And he wouldn’t let go of me quietly.
Before I could even think of a possible solution, I felt more than I saw Art brush past me. He had an annoyed expression on his chiseled face. And then, he threw open my front door.
6
Art
I shouldn’t have involved myself. I should have stayed in the fucking kitchen and minded my own damn business.
If possible, I should have left. I should have removed myself from the entire situation and pretended I had never seen Chloe and those damn roses.
But I couldn’t fucking stay away. I didn’t think she realized it but she was goddamn magnet and I couldn’t stay away, no matter what I did. No matter what I tried.
And now, in this moment, was no different.
It wasn’t exactly my fault. Not when the asshole’s laughter grated on my nerves and reminded me of nails on a goddamn chalkboard. I also couldn’t stand the look on Chloe’s face, right. The hopelessness. The confusion of what to do. She didn’t deserve this shit. No one god, as far as I was concerned. She told him to back off. She told him to leave. He didn’t listen.
Maybe he would fucking listen to me.
I stomped over to the door and ripped it open. I placed my entire body in the doorway do the fucker couldn’t get a good look at Chloe. He didn’t have that right.
“What the fuck do you want?” I growled through gritted teeth.
I felt like a fucking guard dog. But I didn’t care. He needed to learn he wasn’t welcome here.
When I saw the slip of a man who was supposed to be this great tormentor, I nearly laughed. I could knock this guy out in one punch and not break a sweat. He was a scrawny little shit who, yeah, I guess wasn’t that bad to look at. But the fucker had the look of an asshole and I didn’t understand how someone as seemingly intelligent as Chloe could actually fall for it. Then again, I wasn’t one to pass judgment. I had my share of bad, what the fuck hookups.
As soon as he saw me, his entire demeanor changed. Fucking good. I was glad he realized this wasn’t a goddamn joke.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked.
I saw his entire body tense. He wasn’t sure if he should defend himself or attack. I saw the same look in all the rookies who wanted to fight with me to earn their stripes.
“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, making sure my voice was lower and deeper than his. “Why the fuck are you here, sending her flowers and shit, when she clearly wants nothing to do with you? Can’t you take a fucking hint? Are you as stupid as you look?”
I could see Chloe’s face pale at my words, as though she was afraid of the repercussions from my smart mouth. I didn’t care.
His eyes wanted nothing to do with me and everything to do with Chloe.
Typical. Guy couldn’t be a fucking man and look at me like I was competition.
Not real competition. But he didn’t know that.
This asshole was still trying to intimidate her, even with me here. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Not when Chloe deserved better than this.
“Chloe,” he said, snarling. “Who is this? Who the fuck is this? Why is he here, with you, when you know you can’t be with anyone but me? Are you, are you fucking him?”
I opened my mouth, ready to respond, but Chloe tilted her head around my body and snapped, “Who I sleep with isn’t any of your business, Tim. You don’t control me, not anymore. I’ve moved on with my life. I suggest you do the same.”
Tim furrowed his brow. “Move on?” he asked. “Move on? You want me to fucking move on? Why the fuck would I do that, when you’re the person I want to settle down with? You think this slab of meat scares me?” He tilted his head in my direction.
I cracked my knuckles and looked down at him. “I should,” I replied dangerously.
The asshole snorted but I could tell he looked me up and down with unease. He was trying to see what he could get away with. If it made him feel better, I would give him the first three punches. I was certain he wouldn’t move me. Wouldn’t hurt a hair on my body. I also knew I could punch him in the face without using the full extent of my force and it would send him flying backward. My knuckles wouldn’t even be damaged because of it.
“Who are you?” he asked me again, peering at me with questioning eyes. “I’ve seen you before. I know you.”
“You don’t know shit, from what it sounds like,” I muttered to myself. I cracked a smile because I was amused despite how fucking stupid it sounded.
“You’re the hockey player,” he finally said. His eyes went wide but I could tell it wasn’t because he was star struck. “The defenseman. For the Gulls. You guys are in the Western Conference Finals, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t realize you were a sports fan,” I said dryly. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.
“I’m not,” he retorted, giving me a look like I was a goddamn idiot for even assuming such a thing. “I watch the news. How the hell did you and Chloe meet? Because she isn’t a sports fan, either.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Chloe chimed in, making sure to keep me in front of her body.
I wanted to tell Chloe to stay where she was, to let me handle the situation because responding to him would only give him what he clearly wanted from her: attention. This asshole was sending roses to her home and to her job because he wanted her attention after years of not getting it.
I still didn’t understand what had happened between them. I respected the fact that it wasn’t any of my business. Hell, I didn’t want to know. But I was starting to put together a puzzle.
Chloe left this guy years ago and he hadn’t made it easy. Clearly, he had money. Not only did he look like one of those assholes that had money, I could tell by the way he dressed, by the shine of his shoe
s, by how he styled his hair, that he came from a long generation of money. I knew I shouldn’t judge someone based on their family, but shit, one rich asshole usually gave birth to another and then to another. I hated the rich assholes at my school when I was in fucking prep. I was a scholarship kid so I was surrounded by these assholes and knew how to sniff one out.
These assholes thought they were entitled to everyone and everything. They thought they could do whatever they wanted with no consequences because all they would need to do was throw money at the problem and it would magically disappear. There wouldn’t be restitution or consequences. It was probably why I fucking loved beating the shit out of these asshole players. Maybe this asshole wasn’t a hockey player. But I could guarantee he was a rich asshole from a prep school with a rich daddy who couldn’t take no for an answer. And that shit did not fly with me.
The thing with Chloe, I was beginning to realize, was that she didn’t seem to give a shit. Not that she was stupid. And she seemed to understand that it wasn’t always the smartest reaction she was giving. But there seemed to be part of her that needed to rebel. That had been tied down so long that it needed to break free.
I respected that. And I wasn’t about to be another asshole who attempted to control her. Just because I didn’t agree with her didn’t mean I wouldn’t support her decision.
“I know you better than anyone,” Tim snapped, his eyes narrowed at her, even though she was almost all the way behind me. “I know you love having your nipples sucked. I know you love when I kiss your neck. When I turn you on your stomach and fuck you from behind.”
“That’s enough,” I said. I could feel how red Chloe was turning without even looking at her.
I was this close to breaking this asshole’s jaw.
“I know all the noises you make when I’m inside of you,” he continued, ignoring me. “I know how hard you breathe just before you climax. You think this guy knows where to touch you to please you? You think he knows your body the way I know your body? He doesn’t. He never will.”
“I disagree,” I said before I realized what I was saying.
Jesus.
Fuck me.
I was just about to stick my goddamn foot in my goddamn mouth.
What the hell did that even mean?
“What the hell does that mean?” he asked.
His eyes had gone cold and I didn’t hold back a smirk from my face. I had gotten him. I had gotten that fucker.
His eyes shifted over to Chloe and he clenched his jaw so hard, it popped. It fucking popped like a goddamn balloon. I wanted to laugh. He was too easy. This whole thing was too easy.
Don’t be an ass, a voice warned me. This isn’t about you or your ego. This is about Chloe and protecting her. Don’t fucking forget that.
I breathed out of my nose. My grip on the door tightened. I was this close to ripping the door from its hinges and swiping this fucker with it. Breaking his teeth in. Watching the ivory bounce across the concrete.
Chloe said nothing. I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t know her at all but it was almost as though I could feel her confusion stemming from her body. She had no idea where the hell I was going with this. Hell, I had no idea where I was taking this. I was just trying to do what I could in order to insure Chloe wouldn’t be bothered by her ex and I didn’t have to worry about running into fucking flowers on her porch.
“I think you know exactly what it means,” I finally said, locking eyes with him. I needed him to know I was serious. That I wasn’t fucking around, even though I was.
Tim clenched his jaw again and turned his attention back to me. Good. He shouldn’t even be allowed to look at Chloe. He lost that right after he did whatever he did to her.
“If I find out you aren’t fucking lying to me, I will kill you myself, do you understand me?” Even though he was scrawny piece of shit, it was obvious to see that he genuinely believed what he was saying. Just because I didn’t believe it didn’t mean shit. He honestly thought he was capable of killing me even though I genuinely believed he couldn’t kill a fucking fly. “Chloe is mine. She doesn’t belong to anyone except me. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are to even think you have any hope of being with her. Maybe she’ll spread her legs for you right now. Maybe she’ll touch you in all the right places. But that doesn’t mean shit. She’s mine. She’ll always be mine. And I don’t give a shit who you are. That isn’t going to change.”
“Listen, motherfucker,” I said slowly, leaning down and getting in his face. He moved his head back but didn’t take a step back. “Chloe doesn’t belong to anyone but herself. Chloe and I are together and we have been for a while. It’s not any of your goddamn business but I’m going to tell you anyway because I expect you to stay the fuck away from her from this point on. And if you can’t get that through your head, we’re going to fucking have a problem. Do you understand?”
He shot me a hard look and he was silent for a long moment.
Finally, he said, “This isn’t fucking over.”
I grinned. I didn’t think it would be.
7
Chloe
I took a deep breath. And then another.
I threw my eyes up at Art and tried to tell him to tell me what the fuck he had just done with just a stare but I didn’t know if he was capable of reading them right now.
Tim was gone. For now. That was a good thing. That was always a good thing.
But now I had to deal with the fact that Art was still there, staring at the front door with a golden glare, his body still tense.
Jesus, his body was huge. I hadn’t even really noticed what he was wearing because I was still focused so hard on the roses at work and now Art Jackman in my house and Tim on my doorstep. Honestly, this was way more than I could take.
“What,” I managed to get out, taking in that white tank top, the grey sweatpants that clung to his butt and oh my God, he had the best butt I had ever seen. Like, seriously movie star slash soccer player butt. If I didn’t rip my eyes off of him, he would totally catch me staring and that would be the worst. “What did you just do?”
“He wouldn’t shut the fuck up,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He wouldn’t leave you alone or leave the house. I did the only thing I could think of doing to get rid of him.”
“You said we were together,” I said flatly, moving my eyes over to make sure the door was locked.
I heard Tim leave, I heard his car take off, but that didn’t mean...
I took another deep breath. I needed to calm down. He was gone. At least, for the moment, Tim couldn’t get me.
“I did,” Art said with a curt nod. He placed his hands on his hips and looked at me with a cocked head, almost as though he didn’t quite understand what was wrong.
“And how do you suppose we pull that off?” I asked him. My voice kept raising octaves and I had to close my eyes to keep from wincing at how shrill I sounded. This was not like me. I mean, I wasn’t cool but I sure as hell wasn’t shrill. “You are a hockey player in the Stanley Cup finals. I’m a girl who works in the records department for the city.”
“Western Conference,” he said.
I shot him a look. “What?” I asked him through gritted teeth.
“You said we were in the Stanley Cup finals,” he said. “We’re not there just yet. Game One is tomorrow. If we win this round, we advance to the Stanley Cup Playoffs.”
I rolled my eyes. Was he really getting caught up on a technicality? I clenched my jaw and looked away, trying to keep my temper.
That was the operative word - trying.
“Can you please,” I began, starting to pace up and down the tile of my home, “answer my question before I start crying for no reason and hyperventilating and overreacting. Tell me what the plan is because I honestly have no clue. And I need you to tell me what you’re thinking so I can calm down and focus on something. Anything.” I flashed my eyes up at him. “Can you do that for me? Please?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I can do that. To be honest, I have no idea why I said what I said. I don’t have a plan.”
I clenched my teeth. I tried to regain some sense of patience.
“What?” I demanded.
That patience didn’t happen.
“Yeah, I just wanted to get him away from your house,” Art continued nonchalantly, like he was talking about why it was overcast today and not my violent ex-boyfriend.
I closed my eyes and tried to process what was happening. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to breathe, trying to calm myself down.
“This is bullshit!” I finally exclaimed, dropping my hand and putting them both on my hips. “This is bullshit! You decide to tell fucking lies when you don’t even know what the hell I’ve been through with Tim. And yet, you think you have any right to exert yourself in my life like you do. You think you can make choices for me without discussing this with me, without even trying to see it from my side. Do you know what you’ve done? Have you thought about how your smartass mouth is going to affect me?”
“What is your side?” he asked me quietly.
I didn’t know if he was actually ashamed of what he did. But the gravel from his voice was gone. If anything, it was husky and low. It wasn’t a voice he typically spoke with, I surmised.
“What?” I asked. I still had a tone but it didn’t have the bite it had had before. If anything, I was confused by his question.
“You said I didn’t know what had happened to you,” he said, his voice still quiet. “You’re right. I don’t have a fucking clue. But I want to know.”
I looked at him with disbelief. This guy, this stranger, wanted to know something I couldn’t even tell my best friends. Was he serious?
“I know it’s not my business,” he continued like he could read my mind. “I know you don’t have to tell me anything. You don’t have a reason to. Clearly, some serious shit happened. But if you want to tell someone, I want to listen.”
Trainwrecks & Back Checks: A Slapshot Novel (Slapshot Series Book 6) Page 4
