Breakaway
Book One in The Penalty Kill Trilogy
Lindsay Paige & Mary Smith
Breakaway
Copyright 2013 by Lindsay Paige and Mary Smith
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any actual places, products, or events mentioned are used in a purely fictitious manner.
Cover Designed by: Damonza
Edited by: K² Editing
Formatted by: Candace Selph
Dedication
To hockey, reading, and Twitter for bringing us together.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Playlist
Chapter One
Levi
“Yo, Carr!”
I snap my head at the sound of Gavin Harper’s voice. “What is it now?” I grumble. We’re doing a simple prank at rival James Wayne University, and my teammates are acting like we’re working with explosives instead of lining helmets with Vaseline and cutting slits into laces, so when the Wildcats go to tie their skates, the laces will break in two.
“We’re done,” Harper states once I’ve arrived from being the lookout down the hall.
Oh. I enter the locker room and do a mini inspection while the team gathers at the door, waiting for the verdict. It’s good enough to grate their nerves and that’s my mission. Ever since I met Trevor McCarthy back in my senior year of high school, he’s been a pain in my ass. He was the new kid who moved to town. Within two months, he stole my captaincy from right under my skatesand to add insult to injury, my then girlfriend dumped me for him.
Now I’m a junior over at Roxboro University and a proud captain of the Lions hockey team. McCarthy is the captain here at our biggest rival, and I try my best to make his life hell. Messing with their gear is just a kick. It’s tradition almost for our teams to mess with the other, but I try to take it a little farther when it comes to Trevor McCarthy. That jackass. I’ve been brewing up a special prank just for him, but none of my ideas have deemed worthy enough yet.
“Did you put the gum in the fingers of McCarthy’s gloves?” I ask Gavin.
“Yep. Stuffed them in there good enough that they won’t fall out.”
“Good. He deserves the special treatment. Okay, let’s get out of here.”
The eight of us that came exit the building without any trouble. Outside, along the sidewalk leading to where we parked, a girl is walking our way. I can’t tell much about her with it being three in the morning, and she’s in the darkness between lamp posts. Other than the fact that she’s not looking our way, she doesn’t seem concerned there is a group of guys walking towards her. As we get closer, the small talk between the guys stops when the girl walks under a lamp post. She’s a redhead with shoulder length hair and she’s curvy.
Now as we are in the process of passing her, Andrew Nichols snags her elbow and says, “Hey, aren’t you McCarthy’s little sister?”
Sister? McCarthy doesn’t have a sister.
“Hey, aren’t you a back up for the Roxboro Lions?” she snaps before I can give the sister comment much more thought.
“No,” he growls.
“Well, you should be. Now let me go.” Her voice is cool as if she’s not the least bit worried.
“You little bitch,” Nichols says, infuriated.
“Let her go,” I demand. “We don’t have time for this.”
A bit roughly, he releases her and she strolls off. We stuff ourselves into my black Tahoe like a bunch of clowns and take off back to campus. The girl is hot, that’s for sure. Who doesn’t love a busty redhead with a slender nose and light brown eyes with plump light pink lips to match?
“Hey,” I say as the thought reappears. “McCarthy doesn’t have a sister.”
Nichols pops his head between the front seats and says, “Yeah, he does. I’m almost positive that’s his twin sister. They went to different high schools because of their parents’ divorce.”
“He’s right,” Jere confirms. “That girl I’m seeing is her best friend. She’s McCarthy’s twin.”
“No shit. What’s her name?”
“Presley,” Jere answers.
Presley. Presley McCarthy. Even her name sounds enticing with how easily it rolls off the tongue. I was a bit surprised that she didn’t back down with Nichols. He’s mostly rung tight 24/7 and has a quick temper. It doesn’t take much to set him off and send him spiraling with rage. Based on Presley’s comment, I’m going to assume that she knows her hockey because lately, Andrew has been playing sloppy. Back on campus, a faint smile takes over at her back-up insult as we unload and head our separate ways.
I can’t help my grin as my team warms up. McCarthy and his team are sending glares our way left and right. No doubt they were pissed at having to clean their helmets and lace their skates again. McCarthy probably wasn’t too happy to know that he got a little extra with his gloves. I chuckle at the thought with a glance around the arena. JWU and RU games always brings a bigger crowd and tonight is no different. Behind the net where our goalie will be most of the game, I catch a glimpse of a redhead laughing with some chick. She looks out over the ice and sure enough, it’s Presley. No time to dwell on her, though. It’s game time. I prepare for the faceoff with McCarthy.
“Nice gloves, McCarthy,” I smirk as he glares, his mouth setting into a thin line of determination.
There is no doubt in my mind that we will win this game. We’re better. Simple as that. Throughout the first period, each team scores. It’s the second period where things get a little crazy. First, Nichols gets into a fight which is an automatic suspension for one game. It pisses me off that he’s going to throw away a game just to throw a couple of punches. Second, McCarthy scores a damn hat trick making the score 4-1. Seeing Presley cheer on her brother was just as annoying.
Heading back into the locker room for the second intermission, everyone on my team knows I’m furious. Coach doesn’t even say anything. He lets me scold them.
“What the hell are you guys doing out there?! Harper.” I point to our goalie. “What the fuck, man? Some of those shots shouldn’t have gotten past you. And Nichols! For God’s sake! What the hell were you thinking? Jere, you need to step up and take his place. I can guarant
ee you all right now that if we go out and lose this game, I’m going to make your lives a living hell.
“We are better, but you wouldn’t be able to tell with how we’re playing. We have one period to go out there and win this game.” My voice becomes somber and serious. “We’re on their turf, sure, but we are going to show them who’s better. Get your asses in gear and focus. Concentrate. Do better than your best and win this game.”
My teammates nod and I notice that Jere, Nichols’ back-up, looks a little nervous. He hasn’t gotten too much game time this year, but he’s good.
“You heard your captain,” Coach says as a dismissal.
The guys stand and begin to make their way back to the ice. “Hold up, Jere,” I say when he comes to pass me on the way out. I wait until we are the only ones left in the locker room. “I’ll make this quick. Don’t worry too much, Jere. You’re good and Andrew’s been slacking in his game. If you want to get more ice time, this is your chance to prove yourself to everyone else. I know you have skill. It’s time to show it.”
He nods curtly, and we head back to the ice with the team. It’s a tense third period, and we score enough to tie the game with three minutes to go. A minute ticks by and the Wildcats score. The last two minutes feel frantic as we take every chance we can to score. It’s useless. Their goalie is playing exceptionally well, and we are missing the mark. We lose 5-4.
No one says anything when we head back to the locker room. A needle could drop, and you would be able to hear it as we change and get ready to head back to campus. We see McCarthy and his team celebrating out in the hall. There are a couple of others standing with them, Presley included.
“Good game, Carr,” Trevor calls out as we turn the opposite way from the door of the locker room to leave. Coach is already waiting on the bus, and I stop in my tracks at his boast. The guys turn with me, and I see Presley standing beside her brother, an elbow resting on his shoulder and a smirk on her face.
“You won because we let you, McCarthy.” Total bullshit, but he doesn’t know that. “I just didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your sister,” I say with a nod in her direction, her smirk disappearing at my attention. Trevor stands a little taller, his smile gone. Bringing his sister into the conversation isn’t something he’s fond of, I’m guessing.
“I’m sure you let us win.” He even rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you all keep walking to your bus with your tail between your legs.”
I chuckle and shrug my shoulders. His comments don’t bother me, and I’m sure to exert confidence. My eyes leave his and find those brown ones I thought about last night. “Maybe I’ll catch you later, Presley?”
Her eyes widen slightly when I say her name, but other than that she doesn’t give away any emotions. Now, it’s my turn to smile as I say, “Let’s go,” to my teammates. McCarthy was pissed that I spoke to his sister, that much was evident. Maybe Presley is my ticket to exact revenge on Trevor. Messing around with his sister would be fun, especially considering his reaction tonight at the mere mention of possibly hanging out with her.
All I have to do is find a way to run into her again and maybe take her out. Shouldn’t be too hard to seduce her. Not many women in hockey towns can resist a hockey player to start with. Being 6’4” with hard-edged jaws, pearly whites, a lopsided grin, blonde hair, and blue eyes has its perks. With my charming good looks, I’m irresistible. Back on campus, the boys disperse and Harper and I get into my car to head back to our place while Nichols drives back in his ride.
“You’re going to go after her, aren’t you?” Gavin asks.
“What?” I ask innocently, looking over at him.
“Don’t play stupid, Carr. You look like you just hit the jackpot,” he chuckles.
“I have, man. I have.”
Later, while lying in bed, eyes closed, those light brown eyes were staring at me with a hint of surprise.
~ ~ ~
It’s Friday, and a couple of days have passed since the JWU game. We’ve got another one tonight, an easy win, and a party afterwards. I can’t wait to let loose for a while. I’m unhappy to admit that my mind has been wrapped around that redhead, trying to figure out a way to run into her. I haven’t said much about the Presley Plan since the JWU game with Gavin. The only option seems to be that I’ll have to run into her over at her campus and who wants to do that? It’ll be too obvious. If I don’t have a decent plan by tonight, I’m going to see if Andrew knows anything more about her.
Even with Andrew out of the game, we played well. Jere rose to the occasion and was very implemental to our game. An easy win it was, with a 5-0 final score. Harper was on top of things tonight, not letting a single shot get past him. Their goalie? He was having a bit of trouble. I smirked at the thought of one instance where he was scrambling to stop the puck, and it slipped between his skate and the goal post. Nothing like a win to make a party feel like it’s bursting at the seams with the energy of a bragging hockey team and the girls who couldn’t resist us. Most of us don’t mind Puck Bunnies. The girls who knew next to nothing about the game, hell, probably didn’t even really watch, yet they “loved” the sport. More like they loved the guys playing it.
Tonight, there was the usual swarm of Puck Bunnies after a win. I’m standing in a corner near the fireplace, a beer in my hand, watching and selecting which Bunny I will sleep with tonight. There are already three in front of me, talking about how I made an “awesome goal.” I am mainly ignoring them because I didn’t score tonight. I had three assists, but I didn’t score. For me, there is nothing more annoying than a Bunny pretending to know what she’s talking about. I rather they just own up to what they are.
My eyes rotate from the right side of the room to the left, where I see none other than Presley McCarthy entering the room with the same chick from the game hooked on her arm. A smile makes its way on my lips at how my luck just turned while wondering what she is doing here. I watch for another minute as Jere walks up to her friend and plants one on her. Jere greets Presley with a handshake and leads them to the other room.
“Excuse me, ladies,” I interrupt one of the girls who was talking. I step through their semi-circle around me and follow Jere. They are standing around the pool table, and Jere is trying to talk Andrew into playing. He won’t. I know that much because of how Jere is playing better than him. Andrew’s going to put his anger about his bad playing on who replaced him tonight. He needs to be focusing on playing better instead, but whatever.
“I’ll play with you, Jere,” I say, coming further into the room. I walk over to grab a cue and chalk the end.
“Thanks, man,” he says. Oh, don’t thank me yet, I think. “Levi, this is my girlfriend, Marley and her friend -”
“Presley, right?” I grin, after shaking Marley’s hand. I hold my hand out to Presley, who is looking on with utter disgust, making me wonder what Trevor has filled her head with about me. She glances between me and my hand quickly before making a decision to shake my hand. Her hand slips into mine, and she shakes it hard one time before releasing it, sending a quick glare to her friend.
“Guys against girls or us two,” Jere says, as he wraps an arm around Marley, “against you two?”
“Guys against girls,” Presley says, grabbing Marley’s elbow with a smirk at me.
She doesn’t want to play with me? Fine. Playing against her can be just as fun. The balls are already in place, and I tell Jere that he can break. Marley and Presley each get a pool cue while Jere lowers himself to shoot. I eye the girls from the corner of my vision, noting that Presley is whispering somewhat frantically into Marley’s ear, who in turn shrugs. The balls cracking against each other resound in the room even with the music playing in the next room.
Marley steps up to the table for her turn and giggles when Jere speaks into her ear as he passes her. She walks around once, choosing where she wants to be, and decides to try and get a striped ball into a corner pocket. The ball touches the side causing it to curve slightly and
miss the hole. I see an opportunity with a solid, aim, and make the shot. I go again, but miss causing a striped to roll closer to one of the center pockets. I stand next to Presley, who is concentrating on the balls before her.
“Can you play?” I ask, casually. There’s no other way to follow through with my plan, unless I at least make conversation.
“Yep,” she says, never taking her eyes off the table. My eyes, on the other hand, are glued to her frame as she steps forward, leans down as if she’s placing her ass on display for me, and shoots for the striped I was just thinking about. She misses, and the cue ball falls into the pocket she was aiming for instead of the ball she wanted.
“I thought you said you could play,” I half joke.
“Never said I was any good.”
Still the girl has not looked my way. This may be a little harder than I thought. I chug a swig from my beer and see that she doesn’t have anything to drink.
“Would you like one?” I ask, holding up my beer while Jere takes his shot. Finally, those brown eyes look at me with a slightly raised brow as if asking, “What are you up to?”
“Sure.”
I pat Jere’s shoulder as I walk past him into the kitchen to grab her a beer. By the time I return, it’s my turn. I hand her the bottle and try to concentrate instead of watching her take a drink. Somehow, I manage to focus, but not enough to make the shot. When Presley finds her shooting spot and leans down on the other side of the table, I get a good view of her breasts. Oh god, she’s really hot. This is going to be fun. I can’t wait to get her in bed.
“Um, need some help?” I ask with a smirk to take my mind off the things I want to do to her. She glances up at me a small smile playing on her lips.
“Sure,” she repeats.
I sit my beer down and walk around the table. When I come up behind her, the pool cue jabs me in the stomach as she goes ahead to take her shot, landing a ball in the pocket.
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