Puck Battles: A Complete Sports Romance Series

by Kristen Echo

  He licked his lips and stared at Westlyn’s chest. She crossed her arms, covering her body. Gwen moved closer to her daughter as unease settled in her gut.

  The comments might have been harmless, but Gwen wasn’t interested in finding out. She reached into her pocket and pressed the emergency call button on her phone. Without taking it out, she couldn’t be sure if she’d pressed the right spot. She hoped she was being paranoid, but the raised hairs on the back of her neck couldn’t be dismissed.

  “Don’t scare them.” The man with the accent shoved his companion on the shoulder. “We won’t hurt you.”

  “Damn right you won’t,” Wes shot back. “We’re not interested in anything you have to offer.”

  He stepped closer. His chest practically touching her daughter’s. “High strung. I’ve got what you need to take the edge off.” He pulled a clear, plastic bag from his pocket. It contained mostly pills, but there were smaller bags of white powder and a few syringes.

  “I don’t do drugs.” Wes’s voice trembled.

  “We’re not interested,” Gwen barked.

  “There’s a first time for everything,” he cooed in his foreign accent. He ran the tip of his finger along Westlyn’s jaw.

  She shoved his hand away. “Get the fuck away from us! We aren’t interested in anything you have to offer.”

  Gwen had been staring so intently at the ringleader and Wes, she hadn’t noticed the man with tattoos slide next to her.

  He grabbed her arm. “Why argue when you can experience the high for yourself.”

  Something pricked her arm. She yelped and tried to free herself, but his grip was firm. A needle pierced her skin.

  “That should loosen you up.” He winked as he injected her with an unknown substance. “Now, we can get the party started.” He pulled the needle out and pushed her backwards.

  She fell onto the bench as the warmth of the drugs spread. “Run,” she yelled to her daughter as she swept her leg out, tripping the man who’d injected her with drugs. Gwen kicked the man as hard as she could, and he dropped the needle.

  “What the fuck!” Wes lifted her knee and connected with the ringleader’s balls. He doubled over, holding his crotch and she slammed her arms across the back of his neck.

  The man with the tattoos fought back, grabbing Gwen’s ankle and pulling her off the bench. She screamed and continued kicking as she fell to the ground. Her head connected hard with the corner of the concrete surrounding the bench area. She saw stars. A shooting pain split across her skull, but she kept kicking.

  Everything went fuzzy and out of focus. She tore her eyes from her attacker to see her daughter kicking ass. Her arms were pinned back by one of the men, but she flipped him over her body and slammed him to the ground. The last man advanced and Wes kicked him in the throat. All four men were on the ground.

  As if things moved in slow motion, the ringleader scrambled to his feet, attempting to flee. Wes jumped on his back, forcing him to the ground. Gwen fought to stay awake. Her legs thrashed but felt heavy. The other men were recovering from the initial blows and rising to their feet. They headed for Wes.

  Between hitting her head and the drugs, she felt completely disconnected. She couldn’t get up or even lift her head. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest. Soon all she heard was the whooshing of blood through her veins. Her vision blurred. She had to help her daughter. She blinked, trying to focus and stay conscious. Then she saw him.

  Spencer raced towards the two men and tackled them seconds before they reached Westlyn. Fists flew in all directions as the fight raged on. Two cops burst into the area as the man she was fighting secured her legs by mounting her. He grabbed her head and slammed it against the ground again. Another wave of pain and darkness followed. She flailed and scratched the man’s face until he let go.

  “You bitch!” He covered his face.

  Someone yanked him off of her and slapped handcuffs on his wrists. “You’re under arrest.”

  Spencer kneeled next to her. His eyes were so blue. Like he’d bottled the Caribbean Sea and placed the pools of turquoise in his eyes. She could swim there forever. He held her hand and his heat washed over her. His full lips parted as though he was talking, but she couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter. They were safe.

  She closed her eyes and couldn’t open them. “A good man. Not hers. You’re the one. I mean… loving you forever,” she mumbled. Her words made no sense, but she kept babbling. He needed to know she cared for him and didn’t want him to date her sister. She wanted him for herself. Her head throbbed and staying awake seemed like a losing battle. “Me. You. Wes. Spencer don’t go.”

  Warm lips pressed against her forehead and he chuckled. “Wes is fine. An ambulance is coming.” He squeezed her hand as the darkness won.

  Chapter 13

  “Sure is taking the nurse a long time to get back with the doctor’s signature on those release papers.” Gwen sat on a hospital bed, dangling her legs off the side.

  Wes nodded.

  The private room was hot, despite the air conditioning unit humming non-stop. Afternoon sunlight poured in through the open window, adding more unwanted heat. Sweat dotted her brow, and she wiped her hands on her sleeveless summer dress. The cold shower hadn’t helped. Leaning towards the end table, she grabbed a glass of water. She swallowed the contents and set the empty glass down as she looked around.

  An endless sea of yellow, pink and red brightened the otherwise drab space. She inhaled and smiled. The private room smelled like a flower shop since every inch was covered in roses. The flowers were from Spencer.

  A thoughtful touch.

  “We’ll be outta here soon.” Her daughter sat with her face glued to her phone. She hadn’t left her side for more than a few minutes since the incident at the park.

  The drugs had worn off within a few hours. However, she couldn’t recall everything she’d rambled while under their influence. She suspected she’d bared her soul and barfed the contents all over Spencer and Wes. The lack of details made her cringe.

  After several tests, the doctors had confirmed Gwen suffered a mild concussion. Nothing too serious. She’d been damn lucky. Her blood work came back clean. She’d have to be tested again, but it seemed like she’d walk away with no lifelong ramifications. She felt fine, other than a bruised ego and a lump on her head. For precautionary measures, they had her stay for monitoring.

  “You should read what these idiots are writing about today,” Wes said, scrolling through her phone. “Spencer is going to go ape-shit.”

  “Show me,” Gwen slid off the bed and walked towards her daughter.

  Throughout the morning, Spencer had popped in and out of her room. Since the news broke about the attack, the hospital had been crawling with media. He showed his alpha male side, protecting them from the mayhem. Gwen asked him to keep their names out of the press. So far, he’d been successful.

  The headlines toted a mystery heroine as the city’s superhero. Because of Wes, the police had apprehended the city’s most wanted criminal. Spencer explained that the cops had been searching for Rex Ressa for months. He’d orchestrated a massive drug ring and had been responsible for a slew of teenagers disappearing. During a raid on his compound, he’d avoided capture. After several near misses, the evasive mastermind was finally behind bars.

  Wes turned her phone and Gwen read the gist of the article. This was definitely a different spin on the story. They implied Spencer and some of his NHL players were somehow involved in organized crime and the drug problem in the city. According to the reporter, Joe Larson and Spencer Northcote’s hands were far from clean. Countless other players may also be involved. The conspiracy theory was laughable, but now she understood why he hadn’t been back to check on her for the past hour.

  Not that they’d spoken much since the narcotics had worn off. Gwen had kept her mouth shut and pretended to sleep. So many words had already been said, and she couldn’t take them back. If only she could
remember them all, maybe she wouldn’t feel so awkward.

  “Do you think any of it’s true?” Wes asked.

  “Not one word,” she responded without hesitation.

  “I didn’t think so either. Most of this happened before we came here, but Spencer doesn’t strike me as a drug lord.”

  Gwen chuckled. “No, he doesn’t. Bad press is never good, but I’m sure he’ll handle this.” She sat in the chair next to Wes. “I’m more worried about you. How do you feel about being called a superhero, and everything that happened?”

  She shrugged her shoulders and put her phone on the bedside table. “I don’t really deserve the title. Still… it’s better than being called a murderer by people you thought cared about you.” Wes looked down and her legs bounced.

  Kids could be so cruel. Westlyn hadn’t forced her boyfriend to take drugs, but she hadn’t stopped him the night of his overdose. For months, she’d been begging him to strop experimenting, but not that night. To make matters worse, attending the party had been her idea. His best friends had lashed out, blaming her for his death.

  “People say stupid things when they’re grieving.” Gwen’s hands balled into fists. “You are not responsible for—”

  “It’s cool.” Wes covered her mother’s hand. “Since he died, I’ve asked why not me? Like a billion times. Why am I still alive? What’s my purpose? Maybe I found it.”

  “What do you mean?” She swiveled to face her daughter. Big green eyes met hers head on.

  “I don’t know. It’s tough to explain. The experience was empowering. I should have been scared. Right? Were you scared?”

  “Yes, I was frightened,” she answered honestly.

  “Exactly. I wasn’t at all. More like I was angry. Livid even. As if a volcano of rage erupted when they offered those drugs. It felt like I was back in that basement with the drugs in front of us. Only this time, I had no intention of staying quiet. This time I was stopping the real murderers,” she seethed. “Then every minute of the self-defense classes we took rushed back. I couldn’t let those pieces of scum get away.”

  Gwen leaned over and hugged Wes. “My daughter the superhero. I am so proud of you.”

  “Thanks. You told me this like a bazillion times already.”

  “Well, I’m a proud parent. Sue me.”

  Wes pulled away and stood. “You might not be so happy with what I have to say next,” she said, pacing the small room. She ran her fingers through her hair, keeping her eyes hidden. “Hear me out, okay?”

  Folding her hands over her knees, Gwen prepared for the bad news. “Lay it on me.”

  “You’ll think I’m nuts, but I want to tell my story. I don’t want to hide from the press.”

  “Keeping your anonymity is a way to keep you safe from retaliation and—”

  “I heard you and Spencer loud and clear. But I want to make a statement. Not only about the attack, but about the events in my life leading up to it.” She twisted the large bracelet on her wrist. “It might stop someone from experimenting with drugs. If nothing else, it will set the record straight.”

  “You’re an adult. If you want to talk to the press, that’s your decision. I think you’re brave.” She smiled and unclasped her hands. “Way braver than me. But what does this have to do with your purpose in life? Do you want to be in law enforcement or something?”

  “Nothing like that.” Wes shuffled her feet, while staring at the ceiling. “Just for the first time in months, I don’t feel sad or anxious. If there’s some divine purpose for us all, then we were meant to be at the park. I was meant to stop that creep. Do I sound crazy?”

  Gwen blinked away the moisture building in her eyes and shook her head. “Far from it. I believe everything happens for a reason. Each experience, molding and shaping our future.”

  “Yeah. You say that a lot.” She looked at her mother and offered a wry smile. “It’s been tough for me to see past the pain and think about a future. But it’s a new day and a different city. I feel ready to start looking ahead.”

  She stood, closed the gap in one stride and wrapped her arms around Wes. “I love you.”

  The door opened, and Spencer walked in. His suit fit him like a glove. He looked dashing and ready to take on the world. His mouth morphed into a smile as his eyes connected with Gwen’s.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt a mother daughter moment. Our ride is waiting outside for us,” he said, lifting papers in his hands. “You’re all set. FYI, we won’t be able to avoid the press completely since they’re camped at every exit.”

  “Thank you.” Gwen inhaled his manly scent as he stepped closer.

  “About the press.” Wes straightened her posture and adjusted her favorite Altered Chords t-shirt. “I’d like to make a statement. I know you have lots of experience with this stuff. What would be best? I want them to know what really happened, and that you were helping us not the other way around. They are turning Nico and the rest of the hockey players into junkies who cheated their way to victory. It’s not right. They earned the Cup.”

  He placed his hand on the small of Gwen’s back as he looked at Wes. “You don’t have to worry about me, or them. But if you’d like, I can arrange my PR people to get on it. Is that all right with you, Gwen?”

  The heat from his touch spread like wildfire. Her pulse raced, and her stomach knotted. “Fine with me.” Her voice sounded hoarse as though she hadn’t spoken in days.

  His thumb caressed the top of her panty line. “When would you like to talk with them?”

  “Whenever is convenient? You’ve already done so much for us,” her daughter added.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said. He removed his hand, pulled his phone from his coat pocket and typed fast and furiously. A minute later, his phone returned to his pocket and his hand returned only slightly lower on her back. “My PR whiz, Daisy, will call you in a few minutes to discuss your statement. We’ll fan it across to the appropriate channels.”

  “Wow.” Westlyn’s eyes widened. “I guess I should figure out what to say.”

  “Speak from the heart. Daisy and her people will do the rest.” He turned to face Gwen. His hand moved along her arm until only the tips of their fingers were touching. “Are you ready?”

  “Where are we going?” Gwen hated having to ask, but she had no place to go.

  “Did you forget?” He tilted his head to the side. “I thought I made myself clear. You’re coming home with me. No more arguments.”

  A vague memory flashed of his lips forming a thin line as those words drifted through the room. She may have refused. She wouldn’t this time. “Sounds good.”

  He smiled. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed her suitcase and opened the door for them.

  “Thanks,” she breathed, stepping past him. She held Westlyn’s hand as they left the hospital room and headed through a tunnel towards a different building. Spencer told them to leave first and then the car circled back for him. The media hadn’t taken pictures of them, but as soon as he stepped out the flashes went off. Several reporters swarmed the limo. The driver went around them.

  “How do you tolerate the invasion of privacy?” Gwen asked as they drove towards his home. They sat next to each other with their legs pressed together.

  One of his hands landed on her knee as he rubbed the stubble on his jaw with his other. “It’s part of my life. Most of the time, I don’t notice. Do you think you could get used to it?”

  “I guess,” she answered.

  Why would she need to? Unless they got back together. She swallowed hard.

  “What about you, Miss Superhero? As an employee, you may not be able to evade the occasional picture in the press.”

  “Employee? What did I miss?” Gwen looked between the two.

  Westlyn bit her lip. “Doesn’t bother me. I… um… took a job as Connie’s nanny. Spencer offered the position yesterday. I meant to tell you before everything happened.”

  He squeezed her knee, sending a wave of
heat between Gwen’s legs. “I’m lucky to have found such an amazing young woman to look after my little girl. I trust Wes will be an asset to my team this summer.”

  “Thank you so much for the opportunity. I’m beyond grateful.”

  Seeing her baby girl smile filled Gwen with joy. All the mistakes and wrong turns she’d made had brought them here. Things were looking up. “That’s wonderful,” she announced.

  When they arrived at the Northcote estate, Wes received a call from the head of Spencer’s PR team. She excused herself and left Gwen alone with Spencer. They made their way to the kitchen. The room was bright and filled with sunshine.

  “We should talk.” She wanted to clear the air. Rather than pretend she hadn’t had a case of verbal diarrhea, she swallowed her pride and faced him.

  He poured them each a coffee from a carafe as she fiddled with a napkin. “Have a seat. What’s on your mind?”

  She sat at the long wooden table and wrapped her hands around the steaming cup he placed in front of her. A hot beverage was the last thing she needed. Inhaling the dark roast aroma, bought her a few extra seconds to collect her thoughts. “About… I should start with… no. I mean, there’s lots,” she stuttered, trying to find the words. “Sorry. Let me start over.”

  His chair grated against the tile as he sat next to her. “You don’t have to apologize. If that’s what you’re trying to do. I rather enjoyed your honesty.”

  Gwen dropped her forehead onto the table with a thud. “If you’re after honesty, I don’t remember everything. I can’t be held accountable for my actions or my words.”

  He rubbed between her shoulder blades. “That’s too bad. I liked hearing you tell me how irresistible I am and how much you want me. No. I believe the word you used was crave.”

  Keeping her head on the table, she twisted the napkin over her lap. “You might not want an apology, but you deserve one. Many in fact. I am sorry for running away all those years ago. I’m sorry for doing it again, when you’ve been nothing but amazing to me and Wes. Pushing you away is not—”