Game Misconduct: A Baltimore Banners Hockey Romance (The Baltimore Banners Book 11)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  By this time, other people had gathered around and TR quickly showed them both videos—Corbin had no idea what the first one was, could only imagine it was something blatant, something pulled off the internet or maybe even a clip from a movie. And the reactions from the newcomers were the same in both cases.

  TR’s voice was bright and cheerful, matching the smile on her face as she addressed the sill-growing crowd around her. “You guys have been great, thank you. I know you’re in a hurry to get back but if you could just hang out for a few more minutes for me. Would you mind? Great, thank you so much.”

  She turned back to the camera, her natural smile dimming just a bit. “I know you guys watching are dying to see what I’m showing everyone, so here it is.” She turned the tablet around, holding it still while the camera moved in closer. The video was taken from a distance, showing two women in a heated discussion. Corbin frowned, leaning closer as the camera zoomed in, showing more of the women’s faces. No, it couldn’t be. Was that Lori? But why—

  The woman she was with swung out with her fist, hitting Lori in the face hard enough that she stumbled and fell to one knee.

  Corbin jerked back, stunned. What the fuck? What. The. Fuck? Anger rushed through him, stealing his breath. He wanted to race out, to find the woman who had hit Lori. To find Lori, make sure she was okay—

  A hand dropped to his shoulder, holding him in place before he realized he had even moved. He didn’t care, tried to brush it off—only the next video appeared on the screen, one that made his stomach heave. It was the same short clip of that meaningless kiss, the one that had cost him so much. Not in terms of money—but in terms of everything else.

  The camera panned back out, showing TR and an even larger group surrounding her. “Like everyone here, I’m pretty sure all of you have pretty firm opinions on those two brief clips. The first one we’re saying is definitely assault. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  She turned to face the group as all heads nodded in agreement. “And the second one…well, we still seem to be torn on that one, aren’t we guys? Although it’s pretty interesting that most of the women are on one side with the men on the other. And that, ladies and gentlemen, I’ll address in a minute.”

  She glanced down at the tablet, her fingers gliding over the screen before turning it toward the camera. “Now I want everyone to see the rest of the first clip. I think it might give you a little more insight to the second.”

  The camera panned in again, showing Lori talking to the other woman. Corbin looked closer, recognized the woman as Dawn Lowry. And the video was being filmed from outside Lori’s house.

  There was volume to this one as well, clearly audible. Corbin listened, anger mingling with amazement as Lori spoke to the woman.

  “What you did was wrong and you know it. How can you live with yourself?”

  “Really? Did you see the new car? These clothes? Trust me, that much money can go a long way in easing a woman’s conscience.”

  “But you set him up. Threatened him—”

  “Oh please. Don’t get so righteous with me. So what if I set him up? He’s not the first and he won’t be the last. And it’s not like he can’t afford it.”

  “So you admit it? You actually admit it. There was no assault.”

  “Of course not. But a picture’s worth a thousand words, isn’t it? And video is worth so much more—especially when it’s edited.”

  “You bitch. You crazy, psychotic, bleached-blonde bitch—”

  Corbin flinched as a fist connected with Lori’s face, anger and nausea twisting his gut even though he had known it was coming. Why would she do such a thing? Why would Lori put herself at risk that way? He needed to see her, go to her—

  The hand tightened on his shoulder, once more keeping him in place when he would have run off. He shook his head, looked back at the phone in Caleb’s hand. The live feed was still going, the camera panning on the surprised faces of the group surrounding TR.

  “Have any of you changed your mind about that second clip, now that you’ve seen the rest of the first?” Heads nodded as people murmured in agreement. TR slowly nodded then turned back to the camera.

  “I’ll post a link to the first clip in its entirety to this post later. I’d love to say I could do the same thing for the second, but there doesn’t seem to be anything else except that small clip. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?

  “And I think I’ll start wrapping this up. We’ve got a game to watch. Just remember—sometimes there’s more to the story than what you see, so keep that in mind. And guys? Seriously. Keep your hands—and your kisses—to yourself. If we’re interested, we’ll let you know, okay? You’ll save us—and maybe even yourself—a whole lot of trouble.” She winked at the camera then gave a big thumbs-up. “Go, Banners!”

  “Holy shit, I think I’m in love.” Someone—maybe Jaxon—said from somewhere behind them. Caleb laughed and tossed the phone back to Brendan.

  “Yeah, don’t even think about it. I’m pretty sure she’s got something going on with this big bad-ass military guy who looks like he eats tanks for breakfast.” Caleb hesitated, wariness in his gaze as he frowned at something over Corbin’s shoulder before looking at him. “She had close to ten thousand people watching by the end. I don’t think you need to worry about anything hanging over your head now. That thing’s going to go viral.”

  Corbin nodded, not really caring. Yes, maybe this would help. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was Lori. What had happened to her? Was she okay? He needed to go see her, to make sure—

  Once again, the hand on his shoulder tightened, keeping him from running off. Corbin finally brushed it off, turned around to tell Shane or Hunter or whoever it was to leave him alone, that he was fine, that he didn’t need them holding him back.

  Coach Donovan stared back at him, his dark eyes as unreadable as always. No, that wasn’t true. He saw sympathy in their depths, and a hint of the same concern rushing through Corbin.

  Coach glanced around the quiet locker room, his gaze briefly landing on each anxious face. “It’s almost game time. I need you to hit the ice fighting. Are you ready to do that?”

  “Yes, Coach!” The shout echoed off the walls, loud and enthusiastic. Coach nodded then looked back at Corbin, his gaze never wavering.

  “How about you, Gauthier? Can you keep your fucking head in the game for forty minutes until we win this thing?”

  Corbin nodded, then threw Donovan’s words back at him. “Can you?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was the longest fucking seventy-eight minutes of his life. He had raced off the ice as soon as the Banners won, not slowing down for the few reporters calling his name. The staff had quickly blocked him from being followed, telling anyone who would listen that a statement would be made tomorrow. By the team, maybe, but not by him. He had no intention of speaking with anyone tomorrow—not with anyone but Lori.

  He had raced through his shower, barely managing to dry off enough to get his dress shirt on, not even bothering with the undershirt. He hadn’t bothered with his tie, either, just simply draped it around his neck, grabbed his small duffel bag, and took off toward the elevator.

  More reporters were waiting for him there but someone must have called ahead because two of the security staff were there as well, keeping the reporters away from him until he reached his car.

  His shiny, low-slung, powerful car, that had earned every last dollar he’d spent on it by proving just how fast it could really go. He pulled into Lori’s street, the rear end fishtailing as he made the turn. A spot was open two doors down from her townhouse and he slid into it, cut the ignition, and jumped from the car. Then he was banging on her door, his heart pounding, the need to see her nearly knocking him to his knees.

  Danny opened the door, his calm gaze raking Corbin from top to bottom. “Took you long enough. I was starting to worry. Although you do clean up nice.”

  Corbin pushed past him, his frantic gaze searching the e
mpty living room. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. She’s upstairs in her bedroom. I’m assuming you don’t need directions?”

  Corbin shook his head, moving toward the stairs only to be stopped when Danny grabbed his arm. Something cold was pressed into his hand and he looked down, more anger rushing through him when Danny handed him the cold pack.

  “She’s fine,” he repeated. His eyes darkened, filling with lethal warning as he leaned toward Corbin. “But I’ll tell you right now. I don’t care how honorable you think you’re being—you hurt her, and I will wipe the floor with your ass. I love that woman like a sister and I won’t stand by for anyone hurting her.”

  “Good, because I love her too and I have no intention of hurting her.”

  Danny studied him for a long minute then finally nodded. He released Corbin’s arm and stepped back, a faint smile on her face. “I’m glad we’re in agreement. Now make sure you tell her that.”

  He grabbed a thick wool coat from the coat rack and shrugged into it, then moved toward the door. “I’ll lock up. Make sure she stays in bed to rest. I think twenty-four hours should do it.”

  Corbin laughed. “You’re a doctor now, eh?”

  “No. But I almost married one. Learned a lot from him the two years we were together.” Danny winked then opened the door, throwing the lock before pulling it closed behind him. Corbin turned and hurried up the steps, taking them two at a time in his rush to reach Lori.

  She was stretched out on her bed, propped up by several pillows behind her, reading something. She glanced over at him, smiled, then dropped the e-reader on the nightstand.

  “Has the mother hen left yet?”

  Corbin moved closer, his gaze fastened on her face. A bruise marred her cheek, the skin mottled and swollen. There was a small cut in the middle of the bruise, in the center of her cheekbone.

  Corbin growled, a string of angry French falling from his mouth as he moved to the side of the bed and sat next to her. Lori laughed, then winced and grabbed the side of her face.

  “Stop. It hurts when I laugh.”

  “You shouldn’t be laughing. There is nothing funny about this, ma cocotte.”

  “You’re just as bed as Danny. It’s not that bad so stop looking at me like that.”

  Corbin moved her hand, replaced it with the cold pack and gently held it in place. “Foolish. So foolish. Why did you do it?”

  “Why?” She brushed his hand away and moved the cold pack. “Because I had to do something. I didn’t feel like waiting another eight years for you to come to your senses.”

  “Lori—”

  “Don’t. It’s over, okay? And if people still want to believe her instead of you, I don’t care. I don’t care what anyone believes. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I just want to be with you.”

  “Lori—”

  “Lecture me all you want, it’s not going to matter. I love you, Corbin. I always have. And if people want to believe lies and innuendos, then let them. I know better. I know the real you and—”

  He leaned forward and kissed her, captured her sigh with his mouth, swallowed his own sigh when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his.

  He finally pulled away, rested his forehead against hers and smiled at the dazed look in her eyes. “I wasn’t going to lecture you, ma cocotte. I simply wanted to tell you that I love you.”

  “Oh. Well.” She blinked, a small flush staining her face. “And in English, too. Wow.”

  “You don’t like my French?”

  “Only because I don’t understand it—even if it is a bit of a turn-on.”

  Corbin laughed and sat back, whipping the tie from around his neck. He tossed it on the chair then shrugged out of his coat and shirt, throwing them to the side. “A turn-on, eh? You’ve never told me that before.”

  She watched as he kicked his shoes off and tugged off his socks, as he stood and undid his belt and pushed his pants off. “Well, I can’t tell you everything, can I? I need to keep you guessing.”

  He pulled back the covers and slid in beside her, settling her next to him as he wrapped one arm around her. Holding her, simply holding her. “I think you will always keep me on my toes, eh? Like tonight. Your cheek, is it really okay?”

  “Yes, it’s fine. I mean, it stings a little but not like it did. I had no idea she had that stupid ring on.” She raised the cold pack to her cheek and held it in place. “How do you guys do this every night? The fights, I mean. It doesn’t exactly tickle, you know.”

  “It’s part of the game. The adrenaline masks it. And I don’t fight much, not as goalie.”

  “Maybe not, but still—”

  “What happened, Lori? Why? Why would you take such a risk?” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head, her hair soft and warm under his lips. She moved the cold pack and tilted her head back, staring up at him.

  “I told you why. I had to—”

  “But you didn’t know it would work. And what would you have done if she had done more than hit you? When I think what could have happened to you, what she could have done—”

  “Nothing was going to happen.”

  “But she hit you—”

  “Well, yeah. That was part of the plan. It wouldn’t have worked if she hadn’t hit me.”

  His heart slammed into his chest and he swore. “All that risk, when you didn’t even know if it would work.”

  “Oh, we knew it was going to work. We were going to actually post it on the team’s social media but—”

  “On the team’s? You could have been fired!”

  “Yeah, I know. But that was a chance we were willing—”

  “We? Who is we?”

  “Me and Danny. Who else?”

  Corbin swore again. Of course, he should have known.

  No, he shouldn’t have. He could have never even guessed that she would do such a thing.

  “Anyway, we were going to put it on the team’s social media but then I remembered TR. She’s doing some stuff for the Blades and helped with that whole mess with Caleb and Shannon two months ago—right before you came back. And she loves stuff like this so I figured, why not? And she agreed so we did.”

  Corbin watched her, his heart filling with emotions that had no name, emotions stronger than love and so powerful, they took his breath away. What she had done for him, what she had been willing to risk…he was torn between kissing her or holding her in his arms and never letting her go. Both, he decided. He definitely need to do both.

  “You’re not mad, are you?”

  “Non. No, I’m not mad, ma cocotte.”

  “Good, because I’d do it again. No regrets.” She pressed a quick kiss in the center of his chest, right above his heart, then gazed up at him. Her amber eyes glowed with love, holding nothing back. “How about you? Any regrets?”

  He started to shake his head, to tell her no. Then he stopped, a tiny hint of sadness slicing through the happiness. “Maybe just one. That I let you walk away all those years ago. That I waited eight years to find you again and even then, I almost pushed you away.”

  Lori pushed to her knees, her arms braced against his chest as she leaned in for a kiss. Soft, sweet, filled with promise. “I think that maybe we were supposed to wait. I think that maybe things would have been different if we hadn’t.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah, I do. But that doesn’t mean I want to wait anymore. This is our time, Corbin. I love you. And I don’t want to waste what we’ve been given a second chance at.”

  He cupped her face with his hands, careful of the bruise on her cheek. “Neither do I, ma cocotte. Neither do I.”

  Then he leaned down and caught her mouth with his, making the most of every second he had with the woman he loved.

  Starting now.

  Epilogue

  Fifteen months later…

  There were no crowds. No cheering fans. No cameras or live media feed. Not for this.

  Nobody
would know what Corbin had done, what several of his teammates had helped build.

  Nobody except the women who would be able to get help from the shelter. Victims of assault who had nowhere else to go for help. Nowhere else to turn to for protection. For job training. For a place to go to recover and heal. To deal with the trauma—physical, emotional, and sexual.

  Lori walked the halls beside Corbin, their hands entwined as the director gave them a tour. The building was new, unobtrusive, set back from curious onlookers on several wooded acres just north of Cockeysville. There was no name on the building, no sign at the entrance of the long drive.

  The center currently had space for fifty residents, each given a small bedroom with a private bathroom. There was a larger dining area for community meals. A game room and library. Offices for therapy sessions, both private and group sessions. An exercise room. And spaces to go to reflect, to meditate…to escape if they needed.

  Corbin squeezed her hand then turned to the director, a middle-aged woman with eyes that let the world know she had seen unimaginable things. “Will it be enough?”

  That was the question he had asked from the beginning, the question he always asked: will it be enough? He was still plagued with guilt over what happened last year, still convinced that he was partially at fault, even though Dawn Lowry had finally admitted what she’d done.

  His attorneys had been able to recover some of the settlement. Corbin had refused to accept it, instead coming up with the idea of building this center. He had recruited the help of several of his teammates—including Shane Masters, of all people.

  Fifteen months later, the center was a reality. And all of it had been done anonymously.

  The director offered Corbin a small smile, one that held traces of sadness. “It’s never enough, Mr. Gauthier. But it’s a start. And we have hope. With that, anything is possible.”

  Corbin nodded but didn’t say anything. He had known the answer, even before asking. Had known the answer even before ground had been broken.