Trainwrecks & Back Checks: A Slapshot Novel (Slapshot Series Book 6)

by Heather C. Myers

  When I went to the door and saw it was Tim, I grabbed my phone and called the cops. Art was already awake and pacing the hall. I knew he wanted to open the door and take care of Tim personally, but I appreciated the fact that he didn’t. I didn’t want anything to happen to him, whether he damaged his hand because he was punching Tim or end up arrested because Tim had power and influence, and what little I knew about the law said that Art could very well be both a victim and an offender in an assault. And I definitely didn’t want Art to be listed in a police report because of Tim.

  A loud crash made me jump during my phone call with the police, and I realized Tim had broken my window. My heart hammered in my chest and I froze. I had no idea what to do and even as the dispatcher tried to talk to me, tried to have some kind of conversation with me, I couldn’t find it in myself to formulate words.

  It was like I was back in a relationship with him, back under his lock and key, and I was never going to get free from him. My hands shook. My forehead started to accumulate sweat. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even think.

  I didn’t know how Art saw me. I could see concern fill up his tawny gaze but I recognized that he wasn’t quite sure how to handle my behavior. I couldn’t blame him. It was hard explaining that I suffered from a traumatic disorder when I wasn’t even familiar with it. After our initial breakup, I went to counseling, but after I moved, I broke ties with everyone and everything from my past life. I should have at least signed up for more counseling but I thought I would be okay because I was finally away from him. Away from these feeling of utter helplessness.

  Art gently grabbed the phone from me.

  “She’s in shock,” he murmured gently, as gentle as sandpaper could be. “Her asshole ex-boyfriend just smashed her window and might be attempting to break in. I have a question for you, if he does, do I have the legal right to beat the shit out of him without being charged with a crime because he’d be trespassing on property?”

  I picked my eyes up. His question distracted me from my fear, distracted me from the noises currently coming from my kitchen.

  “As long as he doesn’t try to come in, I won’t initiate contact,” I heard Art say. “I understand you have officers dispatched to our location, but you guys might not get here until he does something stupid. The guy tried to kill her, you know that. She filed two police reports in one day because of what he did. So, I’m sorry, if he tries to do anything to her, I’m not going to hold myself back.”

  He hung up the phone and without looking at me, went to see what was going on in my kitchen. I followed him, tentatively at first, until I made it to the doorway of the dining room.

  Tim hadn’t broken a window, he had broken the glass on my backdoor and actually managed to unlock it and get inside.

  My heart continued to pound against my chest and I froze once again. My eyes, however, grew wide. Art didn’t even hesitate. He strolled into the kitchen like this was no big deal, and before Tim even realized what was happening, Art hit him.

  “She’s mine, you piece of shit,” I heard Tim say.

  “No,” I heard myself say. My voice was quiet at first, so quiet I barely heard it. But I said it louder. I didn’t know why; it was just important that I did. “No, Tim. I’m not. I’m not yours.”

  And before I could stop myself, I went over to him and punched him in the face. My knuckles exploded with pain, and Tim lunged for me, but Art got in the way. Art defended me. Art beat the crap out of him.

  And it was completely and totally worth it.

  18

  Art

  I beat the shit out of Tim, called the cops, told them everything, and when everyone finally left, I took Chloe upstairs and made love to her the entire night.

  Made love wasn’t a phrase I expected to ever say but it seemed to work for me and her and what we did. Because it was definitely more than fucking. There was a connection, an intimacy, that hadn’t been there with everyone who came before her. There was also that freedom, knowing Tim would finally have some kind of restitution for all the shit he put Chloe through. To me, it would never be enough and I would have no problem beating the shit out of him every day and that still wouldn’t be enough, but I had other stuff I needed to focus on and I respected law enforcement well enough to trust them to do their job.

  We won Game 5 that day. I didn’t know if I was just inspired because Tim got what he was coming or if it was because he helped warm me up. Either way, I played one of my best games and the team, as a whole, was unstoppable. We only allowed twenty-three shots and Thorpe blocked all but one of them.

  But maybe it wasn’t because of Tim at all. Maybe it was something else. Because as we skated out on the ice, slapping hands with each other while the team went to the locker room, I looked up and caught a glimpse of Chloe.

  Goddammit, she was fucking beautiful. Her hair was down, her blue eyes glimmering with sparkles, and she had this big, beautiful smile on her face. Like she was happy for me. Like she was happy to be cheering for me, not just for the team but for me. It wasn’t something I was used to, having someone in my corner, having someone there for me and trusting them implicitly. But I craved the feeling now that I had it. I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t let her go.

  And I felt myself smile back at her, despite myself.

  She held my gaze and her smile somehow got bigger, which I thought was impossible. And I felt my heart squeeze almost painfully because it made me feel... special. Worthy.

  - -

  When I had to leave for Game Six, I wasn’t hesitant. I hated having to leave her. But I wasn’t worried about her. I felt more confident than the last time I had to leave. Tim couldn’t post bail so I didn’t have to worry about him showing up when I wasn’t there. That fucker was going away for a long fucking time and I, for one, was glad. I hadn’t asked Chloe her thoughts, I didn’t want to push her if she didn’t want to talk about it, but I believed she was content at the very least.

  I made sure to call her when we landed and made it to the hotel. Her voice was back to normal, back to its usual babbling self, and I felt myself smile when I heard it.

  I was relieved. Knowing she was okay, I could now focus on my play, on beating Seattle without any other distractions.

  We ended up beating them three to zero. I had no idea how our last game was so different from our first five but we fucking did it and we made it count. Everyone stepped up. Everyone made sure to do what was necessary in order to win.

  The elation that I felt the second that last buzzer sounded was nothing like I experienced before. We were going to the Finals. The Newport Beach Seagulls - a team everyone had written off at the beginning of the season - was going to play for a chance to win the Stanley Cup. It was actually possible. I would possibly be lifting that Cup over my head and skating across confetti-speckled ice in the next couple of weeks.

  I couldn’t fucking believe it.

  The locker room was filled with easy laughter and cracked jokes. Some of the younger guys were already making plans to celebrate once we got back. Even Thorpe managed to crack a smile for the occasion which was a miracle unto itself. I was excited. And I definitely intended to celebrate. But for now, I wanted to be with Chloe. I wanted to share this moment with her.

  I showered and dried off, throwing on the suit I wore before the game. My hair was still dripping with water, getting the collar of my shirt damp. I slung my gym bag over my shoulder. The equipment manager would collect our hockey equipment so I didn’t have to worry about that, except packing up everything.

  I grabbed my cell phone and sent Chloe a quick text. “We did it.”

  I noticed she already sent me a few herself, something that might have made me cringe if it was anyone else. But because it was her, it was different. It was always different with her. I grinned as I looked over them. Some were just high five emojis, one was an ugly sobbing gif, and one actually had text: You guys were amazing. You deserve this.

  Our flight wa
s scheduled an hour later and it wasn’t long before we were on the way home. I rested my eyes for the duration of the flight, even with Morgan next to me, laughing it up and talking about the women he was going to get with.

  I knew it was all a facade. I wondered why he even needed to put it on.

  Not that it was any of my business but, at least to me, it was clear he was still in love with the girl that he let go all those years back, and in order to compensate for it, in order to pretend he wasn’t feeling anything at all, he dove head-first in a sea of faceless women and made sure everyone knew about it too.

  But that was his decision and I couldn’t change it. I couldn’t make him pick the best decision he had available to him. It was his life and if he wanted to be miserable, he would be miserable. There was no other way around it.

  I ignored him, I ignored the talk about women and fucking. I listened to some of the hockey talk, though. That was always interesting to me, how the other guys viewed how we played. We all had our take, we all heard Cherney’s take, and there were times we even heard what Thorpe had to say when he was feeling particularly generous with talking to us. But I didn’t really get to hear what anyone else had to say and I found I preferred their take as well.

  The plane ride went quicker than it normally did. The closer we got to Orange County, the faster my heart raced. I felt stupid and then I didn’t. I didn’t care anymore that these feelings were completely unlike me and that I never expected anything like them. My feelings belonged to Chloe and I was happy that out of all the women I encountered, she was the one I fell for.

  After we landed, I grabbed my carry-on and headed off the plane with a jump in my step.

  I saw her right when I got out of the airport. She stood with the other girlfriends in white jeans and a baby blue shirt. Her hair was down and seemed to shine under the glow of the moonlight. Which was tough, considering Southern California had pollution in the sky so seeing the stars and the moon was practically impossible.

  But she looked happy. Natural, even. She was going out of her way to socialize with these people, with the women who were probably the most important people to my teammates. She was attempting to integrate herself in an aspect of my life I hadn’t shared with anyone before. It might have freaked me out if I wasn’t already in deep with Chloe. I might have even looked at it like a strategy - win them over, win me over. Not that it would have worked. I didn’t play stupid games like that bullshit.

  But Chloe was a genuine person. I didn’t even think she knew how to play games like that, even if she wanted to.

  When she noticed me, her entire face lit up. It always lit up like the Fourth of July, like she was so fucking happy to see me.

  Me.

  To be honest, it made no sense to me. I wasn’t used to anyone having such strong feelings for me the same way I wasn’t used to having feelings for someone else. However, the more I got used to these feelings, the more I realized that I wanted to have these feelings for Chloe and I was lucky she had them for me, that tension, that instinctual resistance, faded away. And I was left with... happiness.

  Chloe rushed up to me like a kid who hadn’t seen a parent for a long time. She threw her arms around my shoulders and leaped off the ground so her legs could circle my waist. I was lucky she was so damn petite because she had enough force to knock me down if she really wanted to. Typically, I hated public displays of affection. I thought they were overdone and kind of stupid. But with her...

  I nearly shook my head.

  Different. I kept thinking the same thing. Everything was different with her.

  I wrapped my arms around her waist, my hands on her buttocks to give her the support she needed. Somebody behind me whistled and I glanced back, catching the eye of Morgan who seemed to approve. The corner of his lips were cocked up in an arrogant smile but his eyes were... sincere. Maybe even wistful, like he wanted the same thing for himself.

  I couldn’t blame him. Now that I had Chloe, I had no intention of letting her go. If that meant enduring shit from my teammates, so fucking be it. She was worth it. She was worth everything.

  We got into her car and she drove the short drive home. It was quiet but the silence wasn’t tense or uncomfortable. If anything, it was relaxing, like we both trusted each other enough to let the silence wrap around us and settle in. We didn’t need to talk to know we were okay.

  “How are you?” I asked from the passenger side.

  This was another thing I wasn’t used to: not driving.

  “Good,” she said. Her voice was bubbly, not at all tainted with fear or worry or distance. It was nice that she sounded like herself. “I went back to work today, unfortunately. Not unfortunately that I have a job that has awesome benefits because working for the government is awesome, you know, but it was just nice having a forced vacation and sitting around all day. I finally finished The Punisher so that was great.”

  I felt my lips curl up as I listened to her. She was always good at talking, which was great, because I sucked at it.

  “Well,” I said when she finished, “you’re going to have to take more time off in the next few days.”

  She wrinkled her brow and glanced at me before looking back at the road. It was nice driving in Irvine after nine at night. For the most part, the roads were clear and the lights were hooked to sensors that flipped to green after only a moment or two.

  “Really?” she asked, her voice curious.

  “You’re coming with me to Atlanta,” I told her. “If you want to, of course.”

  Chloe pressed her lips together, trying to contain the smile that was so close from slipping on her face.

  “Really?” she asked. “Art, you really don’t have to do that. I’m perfectly fine -“

  “You’re my girl now,” I told her seriously, looking at her profile. “And that means I want you there for my most important parts of my life.”

  She nodded her head and stopped herself from arguing any further. She couldn’t, however, stop the smile from eclipsing her face and I felt myself falling for her even more than I already was.

  So, so different from everybody else.

  But perfect, she was perfect, for me.

  Want to know when Book 7 comes out?

  Brutal Love & Stanley Cups, the last book in The Slapshot Series will be released Spring, 2018.

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  Did You Like Trainwrecks & Backchecks?

  As an author, the best thing a reader can do is leave an honest review. I love gathering feedback because it shows me you care and it helps me be a better writer. If you have the time, I’d greatly appreciate any feedback you can give me. Thank you!

  Acknowledgments

  The Anaheim Ducks because they’re my team no matter what - especially the team from 2011. My inaugural season. ;)

  My family

  My friends

  Susanna Lynn, for your beautiful cover. It’s amazing and stunning and perfect!

  Thank you to my readers who have fallen in love with this series, with hockey, and with the amazing players. I write for YOU!

  Frank, Kylee & Madisyn, Josh & Jacob, for your continued love, support, and understanding

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  The Slapshot Series: A Sports Romance

  Blood on the Rocks, Snapshot Prequel, Book 1 Her grandfather’s murdered and she’s suddenly thrust with the responsibility of owning and managing a national hockey team. That, and she decides to solve the murder herself.

  Grace on the Rocks, Slapshot Prequel, Book 2 A chance encounter at the beach causes sparks to fly...

  Charm on the Rocks, Slapshot Prequel Book 3 When you know it's wrong but it feels so right

  The Slapshot Prequel Box Set

  Exes & Goals, Book 1 of the Slapshot Series Most people have no regrets. She has one.

  Black Eyes & Blue Lines, Book 2 of the Slapshot Series He drives her craz
y - and not in a good way. But she can't get him out of her head.

  Lip Locks & Blocked Shots, Book 3 of the Slapshot Series He's the last person she should fall in love with and the only one that ever stood a chance.

  Positives & Penalties, Book 4 of The Slapshot Series One gorgeous hockey player plus one night of passion equals two pink lines...

  Rumors & Roughing, Book 5 of The Slapshot Series Rumor has it NHL bad boy Alec Schumacher is a criminal...

  Trainwrecks & Backchecks, Book 6 of The Slapshot Series It's not pretend when feelings get involved...

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  Modern Jane Austen Retellings

  Denial Matchmaking is supposed to be easy. But Madeline is going to learn that love can't be planned when she starts to fall for the last person she ever thought she would, who also happens to be the man her best friend claims to love as well.

  Stubborn Marion is a die-hard USC fan. Aiden goes to UCLA Law School. If only college rivalries were the worst of their problems. They say opposites attract. Well, some crash into each other.

  Also by Heather C. Myers

  New Adult Contemporary Romance

  Save the Date As daughter of a man in charge of the CIA, Gemma knew her father was overprotective. She just never thought he would assign a man she couldn't stand to be her bodyguard under the rouse of a fake marriage.

  On Tour with the Rockstar Holly Dunn didn’t know that when she began studying at a rock concert, the lead singer would call her out on it. Tommy Stark didn’t know he’d be intrigued by her odd sort of ways, which was why hew invited her to go on tour with him.