Rookie (Seattle Sharks Book 4)

by Samantha Whiskey

  I nodded, something swelling in my chest, something I’d never had before.

  Brothers.

  Because that is what the guys had become to me. Closer than blood.

  And they wouldn’t leave me hanging in this—no matter how risky it was.

  “Why are you two still here?” Coach asked as he headed toward the exit.

  Warren clapped me on the back. “Shaking off the adrenaline before he gets behind the wheel, Coach.” He flashed him a smile. “I’ve got him, don’t worry.”

  Coach darted his gaze between the two of us, and then nodded. “Go home soon,” he said, a warning in his tone as he walked out of the arena.

  I sighed, thankful he trusted Warren enough to leave me with him.

  I would’ve sought Archer out even if Coach was here, but it was nice to know he wasn’t in the building.

  My position was important to me, my team more so, but I couldn’t rest until this was done. Until I had answers, and hopefully offered Chloe one last piece of closure.

  Chapter 18

  Chloe

  Bailey, Paige, and Nine hadn’t hesitated to support me the second the guys led me through Rory’s house.

  They poured me a drink and listened to me explain things when I was finally ready.

  The act of telling them everything . . . it took a minute but damn it felt good at the end of it.

  But even as Gage and Rory listened from the other side of the living room, it was Bentley who I really wanted to be telling the story to.

  He needed to know how lost I’d been when I got in over my head with Archer.

  He needed to know that when I’d said yes, it was because I was the shell Archer had worked over a year to create. Worn me down until I thought I was nothing.

  And when I woke up, when I realized how far I’d fallen, I gave him the ring back and called it off.

  They all knew how well that went.

  “Asshole,” Nine said, though she’d already known most of the story.

  All the girls had.

  “Tonight was about ending it. Putting a stop to the threats and the texts,” I said. “It didn’t go like I planned.”

  I flashed my eyes over to Rory and Gage. “I’m sorry.”

  They furrowed their brows. “This isn’t your fault,” Gage said as Bailey handed me another drink. “It’s his.”

  “But Bent,” I said, pain lancing through my chest.

  He’d looked so betrayed. Even in his rage. Like I’d snapped any last tether I’d had to him.

  “He’ll be fine—” Gage jolted, his words stopping as he reached for his cell. “Fuck,” he said after reading a text. He quickly showed it to Rory, who hissed.

  “What is it?” Paige asked, eyeing Rory suspiciously when he came over to plant a kiss on her forehead.

  “Gage,” Bailey said when he did something similar.

  “Oh fuck me,” Nine said. “What did Warren say?”

  “Rookie is benched until further notice,” Gage said, his eyes sympathetic as they fell on me. “We need to go see him. Talk to him.”

  Bailey eyed Gage like she knew there was more to the story, but didn’t press.

  I couldn’t sort out all their shared looks because I was too busy trying not to puke.

  Bentley.

  Benched.

  Because of me.

  He’d earned more time on the ice tonight than he ever had before. Coach was watching his progress and rewarding him. He was on the fast track to securing a position on the team for longer than a year contract at a time.

  And the longer he was on the bench, the odds of him receiving a better contract went out the window.

  I’d already cost him so much.

  “Chloe?” Bailey asked, her hand on my shoulder.

  I blinked out of my thoughts, noticing the guys were already gone.

  “I have to make a call,” I said, totally vague as I stood, but I’d explain later.

  I was beyond done.

  I had to take back control of my life.

  My lack of actions had already cost Bentley. I would not continue for one more second—not when it was hurting him.

  Holding the phone to my ear, I paced the length of Paige’s living room, grateful they were quietly giving me the space to do this.

  Adrenaline surged with each unanswered ring, but I didn’t dare hang up.

  Answer, damn it.

  “You have some nerve,” Archer said in way of answering. “Calling me after you caused such a scene.”

  “Me?” I snapped. “You did this. All of this. If you would’ve just left me alone. Accepted my leaving—”

  “Save it,” he cut me off. “I’m growing tired of your attitude.”

  “Good,” I said. “Because I have news for you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes,” I hissed. “Forget going to the cops because I know you’re not scared of that. You’ve got enough money to buy a force if you wanted to.”

  He chuckled, that sardonic laugh rose chills on my skin, turning my stomach.

  “But what you do value above all things, is your reputation,” I continued. “Your public image. The way your fans fall at your feet.”

  Silence so cold I could feel it in my bones.

  “You threatened to go to my boss, my new team, and tell them lies about me. Well, I’ll tell the press the truth about you.”

  He snorted. “You have no proof of anything.”

  “Don’t I?” I asked, gripping the phone so hard my fingers stung. “I’ve saved every text. Every email. Plus, my firsthand account would make for a riveting interview, backing up every single piece of evidence I have.”

  “They won’t believe you,” he said, but even I could hear the doubt in his voice.

  “They will,” I said, putting every ounce of strength I possessed into the words. “And even those who don’t believe me—it won’t matter. The story will be out there. No one will ever look at you the same again.”

  “Fuck,” he snapped.

  “You understand me, then,” I said. “That if you reach out one more time—”

  “I get it.”

  “Not one text, Archer. One email. One call. If you even so much as look at me the next time we play Ontario, I’ll go straight to the press—”

  “I said I fucking get it,” he snapped before the line went dead.

  I blew out a breath, trembling as I pocketed my cell.

  One call down.

  Now . . . a meeting.

  Because we would see Ontario again, and while I hoped my threat was enough, and that Archer really did understand, I knew what I needed to do.

  It hurt, knowing what it would cost me.

  But I had to take responsibility for my actions—no one deserved to suffer but me.

  Especially not Bentley.

  I just hoped like hell Coach would listen to me.

  Chapter 19

  Bentley

  Twenty minutes later Rory and Gage strolled through the arena doors, flanking either side of Warren.

  “Where is he?” Rory asked Warren.

  No other questions—the whys didn’t matter.

  I needed them, and they were here.

  Warren motioned his head, and we followed him around the giant circle hallway until we stopped in front of the visitor’s locker room.

  I half-expected Gage to block my entry into the room and give me some dad-like lecture on why this was a bad idea, but he didn’t.

  In fact, there was a layer of revolution and rage coating his eyes.

  Rory’s too, his fists clenched at his sides.

  Had Chloe told them something when they’d taken her home?

  “She’s at my place,” Rory said, as if I’d spoken the question out loud.

  “With the girls,” Gage added.

  “Safe.” Rory’s eyes flashed support and sincerity, and my adrenaline shifted from rage to a confident calm.

  “Thank you,” I said, and walked through the door.
/>   Didn’t take me long to find him.

  He was pacing in the small PT office, an icepack to his right cheek and a cell phone held to his ear with his other hand.

  The Ontario Coach was long gone, too.

  Good.

  I didn’t bother knocking, just swung the door open.

  “Fuck . . . I get it,” he snapped, not noticing the four of us. “I said I fucking get it.” He dropped his cell, ending the call. “Bitch.”

  Was he talking to another woman?

  This piece of shit.

  “Shit,” he hissed, then finally glanced up at us as we filed into the room.

  The guy had the good sense to look scared.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, determined not to fly at him.

  “We need to talk,” I said, and watched as he tracked Rory, Gage, and Warren’s movements behind me.

  They blocked the exit, a wall of muscle, a unified front.

  Archer flung the icepack on the table, a heavy sigh tumbling from his lips.

  “You planning on ambushing me, Rogers?” he seethed. “For what? A cunt whose lost her flavor? She’s not worth it.”

  My jaw clenched, and Rory gripped my shoulder, a silent reminder to stay calm.

  To be bigger than this vile piece of garbage.

  I parted my lips, but Gage’s voice rolled right over me.

  “Seems to me you’re a bit hung up on her,” he said. “An unhealthy kind of strung up.” His tone was lethal, and I arched a brow at him over my shoulder.

  His look screamed that he’d explain later.

  Good.

  Turning my attention back to Archer, I stepped deeper into the room, closer to him.

  “You will agree to leave Chloe alone. Now.”

  His eyes twitched—the cocky asshole clearly wasn’t used to being told what to do. “Or what?”

  I glanced over my shoulder, then back to him. “They won’t be strong enough to stop me.”

  “We won’t stop you,” Rory added, his voice coated in raw anger.

  “And we’ll all testify to the Coaches, the CEOs, fucking everyone, that you attacked him,” Warren said.

  Archer’s shoulders dropped a fraction, but a smirk shaped his split lip. “Little slut,” he said. “She fucking all of you or just one?”

  Red—the room drenched in it.

  My vision vibrated.

  My fingers begged to tear flesh.

  But again, that hand at my shoulder, tethering me. They were risking their own positions on the team to be here for me.

  I wouldn’t waste that.

  “She’s family,” Gage said when I couldn’t speak.

  “You don’t fuck with ours,” Rory said.

  Archer rolled his eyes, the motion too casual, like this was some meaningless argument about whose dick was bigger.

  Mine was.

  “Yeah,” he said, shrugging as he sunk his hands into his pants pockets. He leaned against the table. “Your precious little puck bunny has already made it very clear.”

  I growled.

  He laughed.

  Fucking prick laughed.

  “Then why the hell were you still talking to her?” I snapped. “The texts—” I knew they were from him, even if I didn’t know what they said, that same cold terror had been in her eyes earlier tonight. “They stop. Calls, emails. All forms of contact stop.”

  He sighed. “Yes,” he said. “I should’ve known better than to try to mold a groupie into the real deal.”

  “She’s not a—”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” he cut me off. “She was with me for over a year. Lived with me. Said yes when I asked her to marry me. With me until my status was no longer useful to her.”

  Jealousy coated my skin.

  She’d said yes.

  I thought I might vomit on the floor. But I knew she hadn’t left him because of his status.

  “Does it annoy you,” he began, lowering his voice as he stepped closer to me, “when she does that thing with her voice when she comes?”

  Gage’s arms flew around me, joining Rory’s as I attempted to go after him.

  “Such a temper,” Archer said, tsking me. “You can have her. Spoiled goods and all that.”

  I slowed my breathing, relaxing enough that the guys let me go.

  “No contact,” I said. “Or I will end you.”

  He smirked. “Like I said . . . she’s already made that clear to me.”

  I wondered then if she’d been the bitch on the phone.

  What had she threatened him with?

  It didn’t matter.

  Archer’s eyes flashed to mine, hateful and arrogant and this side of crazy. “This ordeal has made it clear the only thing she had going for her was the sex. And even that grew boring toward the end.”

  A loud crack rang in the room as my fist connected with his jaw.

  Hard enough he fell to the floor with a grunt.

  Just one hit.

  I held all others back.

  Reeled them in like calling back flames.

  “Stay gone,” I said, stepping backward as the guys filed out of the room.

  We left him there, grunting and hissing and laughing.

  “Fucking psycho,” Rory bit out as we made our way out of the arena.

  “You think he’ll listen?” I asked as we all stopped outside of Gage’s SUV.

  “Yeah,” Gage said, nodding. “I do. You could see it. Whatever she told him, threatened him with, it was greater than his need to fuck with her.”

  “You simply helped seal the deal,” Warren said.

  “Good hit, by the way,” Rory said, a grin on his lips.

  “Fuck,” I said, my body feeling like it was hit by a truck.

  “Did you tell Coach the truth?” Rory asked.

  I shook my head. “I can’t risk her job like that,” I said. “Besides, we ended it. Last week.”

  Gage winced.

  “That’s why you’ve been miserable to be around,” Warren said.

  I shrugged.

  “Just because you ended it doesn’t mean it’s over,” Rory said.

  I furrowed my brow. “That’s exactly what it means.”

  “And yet . . . today happened.”

  “Today would’ve happened regardless,” I said. “I would’ve had the same reaction if I walked up and heard anyone speaking to Nine or Paige or Bailey like that.”

  They all flinched, seething at the thought.

  “Exactly,” I said. “Thanks for being here.”

  “Always,” Gage said.

  “Now,” I said. “You need to fill me in.”

  “All right,” Gage said. “Let’s head to my place since the girls are at Rory’s.”

  I nodded.

  “But you really need to consider telling Coach the truth,” he continued. “It may get you off the bench.”

  “It may lose me the job completely,” I fired back.

  “Or,” Warren said, “you may find a solution to this problem, get your head out of your ass, and finally get the girl.”

  I shot him a glare as I climbed into the backseat of Gage’s car.

  I didn’t have the luxury to dream like that.

  I’d already been broken too many damn times.

  Chapter 20

  Chloe

  “Are you sure you need to do this?” Bailey asked the next morning at breakfast.

  Rory and Warren had slept over at Gage’s, claiming a boy’s night was in order. I was grateful for the solo girl time last night. For the comfort and support of friends to help keep me distracted, keep me from crumbling over what I was going to do.

  “I’m sure,” I said, my fingers wrapped around the paper coffee cup Rory had dropped off earlier before heading to the rink for practice.

  Coffees for each of us plus enough double chocolate muffins and pastries to feed twelve girls. He was definitely a keeper.

  “I don’t like it,” Nine said, ever the one to say exactly what was on her mind. She shifte
d Katherine in her arms, having retrieved her early this morning from Warren’s mom.

  “Agreed,” Paige said, feeding Daphne applesauce while she giggled in her high chair.

  “Bentley wouldn’t want you to do it.” Bailey’s eyes were on Ethan as he padded barefoot around the room.

  So much love. So many woven stories resulting in the kind of happiness I didn’t dare dream of.

  Didn’t matter—didn’t stop me from picturing a baby.

  Bentley’s baby.

  With his eyes and my hair and his tenacity.

  Tears threatened to prick my eyes, but I forced them down. I was done crying. Now I was acting.

  “It’s not up to him,” I said. “This is my choice. I won’t cost him his career.”

  I never would.

  Even back then, all those years ago, I had been at risk for ruining his dream.

  Ten years hadn’t changed much.

  “Don’t come crying to us when this blows up in your face,” Nine said, not a hint of maliciousness in her tone. “Because it will and you’ll be miserable wherever you go without us.”

  I smiled softly at her. “You’re right about that.”

  These past couple months, they’d become the best friends I’d ever had.

  Closer to family—and when the last of my family barely remembered me—it was warm and comforting and hurt all the same.

  Because she was right.

  Not only had I lost Bentley, I was now losing them too.

  “You three are the sisters I never had,” I said, tickling Daphne’s foot in her high chair. I pushed back from the table. “I’ll miss you, and I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”

  They moved like they would rise to give me hugs, but I stopped them with my hands raised. “I can’t afford to go into the office with mascara running down my face,” I tried to tease. “I’ll call you when I know more.”

  I hurried out the door, sliding behind the wheel of my car that Gage had so graciously driven over late last night.

  The drive to the rink went by entirely too fast, but that was just as well.

  No time for me to overanalyze, to change my mind.

  “Coach?” I asked in his opened doorway.

  Thankfully, practice had ended an hour ago and there was no sign of Bentley anywhere. If I saw him . . . I wouldn’t have the strength.