What a great first impression to make on her brother’s girlfriend.
And the worst was yet to come. Jason insisted she go to Mystic’s with everyone after the game. A way to celebrate her new job, he told her. And then he laughed and said everyone was finally going to meet Tyler’s new girlfriend, which was a special bonus.
Except they wouldn’t, not really. Because Tyler’s new girlfriend was going to be struck with a sudden onslaught of the flu and not be able to show up. At least, as far as everyone else was concerned. In reality, she’d be there: hiding in the corner, unable to even look at Tyler in case someone suspected something.
She should have never agreed to tonight. She should have told Jason she was busy, that she had reading up to do in preparation for her new job. It wouldn’t have been a lie: she’d been handed an employee handbook to read and a pile of paperwork to fill out before starting on Monday. But one look at Jason told her she wouldn’t be able to get out of tonight, no matter how hard she tried. He wanted her to spend time with Megan, to get to know her.
So here she sat, feeling like the third wheel, not knowing what to say or how to act.
The glass rocked in its frame in front of her, pulling her from her thoughts. Jenny looked up, an automatic smile on her face as she banged against the glass and yelled. Neither player looked their way, too intently focused on fighting for the puck at their feet. Jenny glanced up at the giant screen suspended above center ice, watched as the puck shot free and play moved away from them. She reached for her beer, the grin dying on her face when she noticed Megan and Haley both staring at her.
“Won’t you get in trouble for doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Banging like that. Doesn’t it distract them?”
Jenny bit off the sarcastic comment before it left her mouth. Megan was serious, she honestly thought the players might get distracted. She shook her head and took a quick sip of the beer, then threw a quick glance at the play unfolding at center ice.
“They won’t be distracted. They’re too busy focusing on the game to notice anything else. Especially Zach. Didn’t you see that look on his face?”
Haley leaned around Megan, surprise etched on her face. “That was Zach?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you recognize him?”
“Are you kidding? It all happened too fast. And they all look alike. The only thing I noticed was the ferocious scowl.” Haley sipped her beer, a thoughtful expression clouding her face. “Actually, I guess it could have been Zach, considering the way he scowls all the time. Like he’s terminally constipated or something.”
Jenny nearly spit the beer from her mouth. She clapped her hand over her mouth and started coughing with enough force to make her eyes tear. Both women watched her, like they were expecting beer to come shooting out of her nose.
Two seconds sooner, and it just might have.
She stopped coughing long enough to take a deep breath. She wiped her eyes then offered both of them a disbelieving smile. “Zach? The man is nothing more than a big old teddy bear. Trust me.”
“A teddy bear? Are we talking about the same Zach? The man-whore?”
“Man-whore?” Okay, maybe Zach played around a little too much, but she didn’t think he qualified for that particular title. Then again, it was Zach. Maybe he did.
Which didn’t explain the look of horror on Haley’s face, or the way Megan was nudging the other woman in the side and mumbling something under her breath. Jenny eyed both of them, not bothering to hide her confusion.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I mean, if you and Zack are together or something—”
“Oh God, no. Eww. Gross. Not even.”
“Are you sure? Because I didn’t mean—”
“Yeah. Totally sure. Zach’s like a brother to me. And even if he wasn’t, he’s not my type. Trust me.”
Relief flashed across Haley’s face, quickly replaced by an irritated frown. “Good. Then you won’t mind if I call him an asshole.”
“Just ignore her. I think Haley has a crush on him but just won’t admit it.”
“Not hardly. I told you, he’s terminally constipated. And he is definitely not my type.”
“Then who is? Someone like Jimmy?” Anger laced Megan’s voice. “I told you, he’s dangerous. I don’t like him—”
“And we’re not together anymore so it isn’t a big deal, is it?”
“Yeah. This week. What about tomorrow? Or next week? I told you, I don’t like him. I don’t like how—”
“Megan. Not here.” Haley slid a meaningful look at Jenny, one she was certain she wasn’t meant to see. Jenny lowered her gaze, feeling like an outsider once more. She reached for her beer again, her eyes darting toward Haley as the other woman did the same. The sleeve of her shirt caught on the edge of the chair and slid up, exposing a slender arm ringed with mottled bruises. Old and new, in horrifying shades of purple and yellow—and in the shape of a large hand, as if someone had grabbed her. Repeatedly, and hard. Jenny froze, staring at Haley’s arm, her mind trying to shy away from what she was seeing.
Haley noticed her staring and quickly yanked the sleeve down, turning in the seat as she pretended to focus on the game. Jenny opened her mouth to say something then quickly snapped it closed.
What could she say? She didn’t know Haley, didn’t know what was going on. It wasn’t her place to say anything.
Except it was. It didn’t matter if she knew Haley or not. What mattered was that someone had done that to her. Jenny couldn’t keep quiet, it wasn’t right.
She leaned across Megan, ignoring the warning look the woman was giving her. “Haley, that’s not right. If you need help—”
“Look, isn’t that Jason?” Megan nudged her in the side and pointed toward the ice. Jenny shot a scowl in her direction then glanced at the ice, frowning, unable to keep the impatience and anger from her voice.
“No, it’s not Jason.”
“Whoever it is, shouldn’t he be stopping that guy with the puck?”
Yes, he should. It was a single Bombers D-man, skating hard after a player from the other team, trying to catch up and stop the breakaway. Jenny shouldn’t have cared, shouldn’t have let Megan distract her.
And she wouldn’t have been distracted if she hadn’t looked at Tyler, if she hadn’t noticed he was out of position. She rose to her feet, her hand banging against the glass, shouting with everyone else.
Yelling, screaming for Tyler to get back into position, to watch out, to stop the puck before it slammed into the back of the net.
She knew Tyler couldn’t hear her. Knew that he couldn’t hear any of them. But for one split second, she swore that he glanced her way, swore their eyes met in that instant just before he lost his footing and fell sideways on the ice.
The puck shot high, tipping off the edge of Tyler’s glove before dropping into the back of the net. The red light flashed as boos erupted around the arena. Tyler pushed to his knees and even from where she was standing, Jenny could see the disappointment on his face. Not just disappointment: anger, irritation, impatience. The puck should have never gotten past him, and it was obvious he knew it.
Jenny lowered herself to the chair, slumping against the hard back as the score was announced over speaker system. It was just one goal, it didn’t matter. The Bombers were still up, they still had thirty minutes of play left. So no, it didn’t matter.
So then why couldn’t Jenny shake the feeling that it did matter? Or was that nothing more than anger on Haley’s behalf? Anger at Haley for brushing off the bruises covering her arm. Anger at Megan for trying to distract her.
Anger at Viktor for what he’d done to her almost a year ago. Anger at the own bruises she still carried deep inside as a result of his vile and petty vindictiveness. Bruises only she could see.
Jenny reached for her beer and took a long swallow, barely tasting the lukewarm brew. How much more time had to pass before she got over it? How much more t
ime before she could truly be free of what happened?
Or was she no better than Haley, pretending that what happened didn’t matter?
Chapter Fourteen
The bar was surprisingly crowded, the noise level louder than the one other time she had been here. Which, of course, made sense, since it had been early afternoon the last time she was here.
They were seated at the same grouping of tables, though, tucked back in the corner, far enough away from the main crowd that there was at least a semblance of privacy. Not that anyone could have a private conversation, not with the noise of the crowd and the band.
And it wasn’t like she had anyone to talk to. She was seated with her back facing the wall, in between Jason and the older guy a few of the players jokingly called Pops. Aaron, she thought his name was. He was quiet, his eyes holding the kind of gaze that let people know he’d been around for a while, had seen and done things nobody else had experienced.
At least, nobody else seated around them.
And he was quiet, almost too quiet. Like he was lost in his own thoughts as he stared into the half-empty mug of beer in his hands. Not rude, not at all. He had offered her a smile and shook her hand when Jason introduced them. Even engaged in some casual and brief small talk at first.
Unlike Jason, who promptly seemed to forget she existed as soon as he sat down next to her. She probably shouldn’t blame him, though, not when he was occupied with his new girlfriend.
Her gaze slid around the table, briefly studying each face before moving on. Battered and weary. Battered and excited. Battered and tired.
Battered and disappointed.
She caught Tyler’s eye, offered him a quick smile. His lips moved, the corners of his mouth briefly curling up when he looked at her—and disappearing just as quickly when he looked away. She swallowed a sigh and dropped her gaze to her own beer, wondering again how long Jason planned to stay here. Wondering again why Tyler looked so miserable.
The Bombers had won, despite losing their lead halfway through the third period. Tyler had let in two more soft goals, which had nearly cost them the game. Jenny understood his disappointment, understood probably better than most why he seemed to be distancing himself from the rest of the guys sitting around the table. He was no doubt cursing himself, questioning his ability, still convincing himself he was second best.
She wanted to go over to him, sit down next to him and wrap her arms around him and tell him to stop doubting himself. Tell him he wasn’t second best. He’d let in a few soft goals. So what? It wasn’t the end of the world. It didn’t mean he wasn’t any good.
But she couldn’t do any of that. Jason would totally freak out if she did. And even if she decided to take her chances, it still wouldn’t matter because she doubted Tyler would even be able to hear her, not over the sound of the band playing.
And yeah, the band kind of surprised her. She hadn’t realized Mystic’s was the kind of place that would even have a band—especially not a country band. Not that there was anything wrong with country music—Jenny happened to like country music. She was just surprised that the rest of the crowd seemed to enjoy it just as much. There was even a nice little group of people in the middle of the floor, laughing as they bumped into each other while trying to figure out the moves of a line dance. It was one she actually knew. Okay, one of a few she actually knew, not that she’d admit that to anyone even if her feet were moving through the steps under the table.
She sighed and took a quick sip of her beer then looked around again. The loud music and noise from the crowd didn’t seem to stop a few of the guys from talking to each other. Or maybe yelling was a better way to describe the conversations. The more she looked, the more she realized that she was only one of a few not carrying on a conversation with anyone.
Her. Aaron. Tyler.
And Zach, who was sprawled in a chair at the end of the table, his long legs stretched out in front of him, a scowl etched onto his rugged face.
Terminally constipated.
Jenny had to bite back a smile at the memory of Haley’s description. Maybe the other woman was right, because Zach certainly looked pissed off. Of course, he was probably pissed because of Haley. The two had started bickering about something soon after getting here, their irritation with each other vibrantly clear. Haley had poked Zach in the chest and said something that wiped the teasing grin from his face. Then she had disappeared several minutes later, a worried frown on her face as she stared at the phone in her hand.
Should Jenny say something to Zach? Tell him what she had seen at the game? What could Zach do if she did tell him? The two of them weren’t together, even Jenny could see that. But she could also see that there was something there, something lurking beneath the surface, ready to erupt. And God help anyone who was nearby when it happened.
But if she didn’t tell Zach, who could she tell? Because she had to tell someone, she couldn’t just stay quiet. Jason? She glanced over at him then mentally shook her head. No, not Jason, not with the way Megan had tried to distract her at the game. Maybe it was only because Megan didn’t know her, didn’t trust her yet—which Jenny mostly understood. Kind of. But what if it was something more than that? What if Megan was trying to help Haley hide it? She didn’t want to think like that, couldn’t let herself actually believe that—and she didn’t, not really. She didn’t know Megan or Haley, she couldn’t just jump to conclusions about them.
But she couldn’t stay quiet, either.
Her mind made up, Jenny pushed away from the table and made her way over to Zach. She noticed Tyler watching her, saw the curiosity in his gaze as she leaned closer to Zach. She shook her head in Tyler’s direction, tried to give him a silent message that she’d explain later. Did he understand? She couldn’t tell, and she couldn’t worry about it just now.
Zach looked up, his frown easing just the tiniest bit. She leaned closer, her mouth close to his ear so he could hear her. “I need to talk to you.”
“What’s up?”
“Not here.” She nodded toward the door. “Outside.”
He hesitated, his dark brows pulling low over his eyes. The scowl deepened and he glanced around, then looked back at her. “What is it, Jenny?”
“Oh my God, you’re as bad as Jason. I’ll tell you when we get outside.” She didn’t give him a chance to ask any more questions, just reached down and grabbed his hand and pulled. It was like tugging on dead weight. She frowned and pulled on his hand again, barely budging him. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll tell everyone what you did that one time.”
A look of horror crossed his face and she had to bite back a smile. She had no idea what was going through his mind, no idea what he thought she might know—which was absolutely nothing. But this was Zach, it was a given that he had done something he didn’t want anyone to know about. Let him think she had dirt on him—as long as it got him to move, she didn’t care.
And move he did. He shot a panicked look around the table then pushed out of his chair, grabbing his black leather jacket at the last minute before she led him toward the door.
Cold air slammed into her as they moved outside, making the breath catch in her lungs. The night was quiet, broken only by the deep bass line of the music inside. The temperature had dropped in the last hour or two, the air heavy with a damp chill that sliced straight into her bones. Tiny snowflakes swirled around them, glistening in the exterior lights that sliced through the darkness. Had they been calling for snow? Jenny didn’t know, didn’t really care. She dropped Zach’s hand and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she had thought to grab her own jacket before coming outside.
Zach took one look at her, rolled his eyes, then thrust his jacket toward her. “Put this on before you freeze to death. And tell me what the hell’s going on. Why did drag me out here?”
She shrugged into the heavy leather coat. It was at least three sizes too big but she didn’t care. Its heat was already wrapping around her, along with the faint spice
of whatever cologne Zach wore. Great, now she’d probably smell like Zach. She’d have to take a shower when she got home because ewww.
Zach jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and hunched his shoulders tight around his neck. He bounced on his toes a few times, no doubt trying to stay warm himself. “Start talking, Jenny.”
“It’s about Haley.”
Zach stopped bouncing, his eyes focused on hers. Wary, cautious. Maybe a little disbelieving, just like his voice when he finally spoke. “What about her?”
Yeah, there was definitely something there alright. She took a deep breath and looked around, making sure they were alone. Then she took another deep breath, her gaze not quite meeting Zach’s. “I, uh, I think someone is maybe hurting her.”
Silence stretched between them for a long minute. Longer, even. Long enough that she suddenly questioned her wisdom in telling him anything. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe she was butting in where she didn’t belong. Maybe she really was rushing to conclusions.
Another thought rushed her, one that made her stumble back in shock. No, absolutely not. Zach wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not like that. Yes, he was big and gruff and looked tough. Even acted tough out on the ice, his play physical and aggressive. But despite the perpetual scowl, despite the dark scruff that covered his jaw and the tattoos that covered his body, Zach was a teddy bear. He’d never hurt anyone, especially not a woman.
Jenny sucked in a quick breath, the cold air burning her lungs, and raised her eyes to his. A muscle twitched in his clenched jaw, the always-present scowl deeper now. Dangerous. He kept watching her, anger flashing in his eyes. And when he spoke, his voice was as cold as the night air. Low, tight, oddly controlled.
“Hurting her how?”
“I—I’m not really sure. I just…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away from the intense ferocity in Zach’s eyes. “She had bruises. On her arm.”
“What kind of bruises?”
“The kind you get when someone grabs you. Hard. Like this.” She grabbed Zach’s arm, her hand wrapping around his forearm and squeezing once. She released his arm, her eyes darting back to his. “Only harder. And a lot of them. Old and new, like it’s happened more than once.”
Playing For Keeps: A York Bombers Hockey Romance (The York Bombers Book 3) Page 11
