Resistance on Ice - SR GREY

by Grey, S. R.

  I know then that I better figure this shit out fast. She’s leaving soon. Like, for good. But for now I check again that she’s all right.

  “Yes, Nolan,” she insists, “everything’s under control. The bouncer had a long talk with that guy.”

  “Did it help?”

  “Mostly.” She looks away, but before I can ask for elaboration, she quickly adds, “It doesn’t matter. My shift’s ending soon, anyway.”

  I blow out a relieved breath. “Well, that’s good. We’re heading out soon too. We can walk you to your car.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary, Nolan.”

  I’m having none of that. Lainey’s told me in the past that she parks in the underground garage’s employee section. Apparently, that area is dimly lit and can feel desolate, not unlike most parking garages. That would all be bad enough, but factor in the asshole that’s had it out for her all night, and let’s just say I don’t like it one bit.

  That’s why I press the matter. But Lainey insists she’s fine to walk on her own.

  “No, we’re coming with you,” I counter, despite her protestations. “And that’s the final word.”

  “Nolan.” She pins me with an aggravated look, and then hisses, “You’re making this into a production. Can you just stop already?”

  “Okay, okay.” I give in, but only after I check the prick’s table and see he’s slipped out. Too bad any chance of me and the boys following through on our little “talk” with him is gone.

  Lainey looks like she’s about to say something more to me, but just then one of her coworkers calls her over to ask her a question. When she returns with our drinks, she doesn’t seem irritated with me anymore and proceeds to inform me, “Hey, I’m sorry I snapped at you. It was actually sweet that you wanted to walk me out. But you definitely don’t have to. I won’t be alone. Penny just told me she’s leaving soon too. I’ll head down to the garage with her as soon as she’s done.”

  I still don’t like it, but I don’t push. I take solace in the fact that the prick’s long gone. Maybe he drank too much and is puking his guts out somewhere. I hope so, since it’d serve him right.

  The guys and I close out our tab shortly thereafter and, after saying goodbye to Lainey, head out.

  All the while, though, something urges me to turn back, to go check on her just to be sure.

  Rescue Me

  Penny is delayed, and it sucks. I’m beat from this crazy night and just want to go home. I could wait for her, but come on. I’ve gone down to the parking garage alone without incident dozens of times. I’m always fine, and I’m sure tonight will be no exception.

  So, I say good-bye to Penny. She apologizes for getting hung up, but I tell her, “No worries.”

  I then head down to the parking garage. When I step out of the elevator, three levels below ground, everything looks the same as it always does. For some reason, though, I feel uneasy.

  “Oh, stop. You’re just freaking yourself out over nothing.” Despite my positive affirmations, I still walk briskly to my car, listening to the occasional rumble of cars moving along on the next level up. “See, just the usual sounds of the night. It’s all good.”

  I start to relax as I turn a corner and spot my car.

  Almost there.

  Looking down, I start digging around in my purse for the key fob to unlock the door. But suddenly, just as my fingers are wrapping around the familiar rectangular edge, I hear heavy footsteps coming up from behind me.

  Spinning around, wishing I had mace in my hand instead of a harmless plastic key fob, I’m confronted with…no one.

  “Is somewhere there?” I call out when there’s a shuffling noise from behind a wide support pole.

  There’s no response, so I venture, “Penny, is that you?”

  No answer again, except for a drip-drip of a leaky pipe in the background.

  Stupid over-active imagination!

  Turning back to continue to my car, I let out a relieved breath. But still, in the interest of being smart about things, I pick up the pace. If I’d really been smart, I would’ve waited for Penny.

  Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I detect movement from my right. And then, before it even really registers, a dark figure—a man—rushes toward me.

  “What the—” I am knocked me off my feet, and the key fob goes flying.

  I jerk my head up and am confronted with the person who just put me on my ass. “Shit.”

  “Shit is right, dumb bitch.”

  I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s the short, flabby asshole that was harassing me all freaking night. And, unfortunately for me, he doesn’t look so small anymore. No, not with the way he’s looming over me with his creepy grin holding no hint of any misplaced humor in having knocked me to the ground.

  But I refuse to give him the satisfaction of cowering. I defiantly stand up, mumbling to myself, “What a dickhead.”

  “What did you just say?” said dickhead growls out.

  I ignore him, and get to walking away as fast as I can. Each step in the direction of my car feels like a mile, I’m that fucking scared. And I have good reason—my assailant is following me.

  I break into a run, but I don’t get far. Dickhead slams into me, shoving my body up against a random SUV.

  “I asked you a question, you stupid slut,” he grinds out as spittle that reeks of booze showers my cheek.

  I don’t call him a dickhead again. I just start yelling for help and trying to get away. Too bad no one is around.

  “Get the fuck off me,” I scream when he thwarts every effort I make to escape.

  I put up a valiant struggle when he tries to press my body to the SUV, but he still succeeds in caging me in. God, I can’t think about what’s coming next. I just keep kicking and shoving and clawing and calling for help.

  “Quit fighting me!” he screams, slamming me back against the SUV. “And shut the fuck up!”

  I keep struggling to escape, and yelling, until he backhands me.

  Oh my God.

  I can’t even catch my breath. This must be what it feels like to have the wind knocked out of you. I slump forward since he’s stepped back. I place my hands on my knees, until finally, I can breathe again. Sucking in big gulps of air, I lean back against the SUV, randomly wondering who it belongs to and wishing whoever it is would show up right about now.

  Clearly, I’m no match for this drunken bastard. And I don’t know what he has in store for me. Or maybe I do, and I just don’t want to face it, seeing as his nasty fingers are now toying with the ties on my corset.

  When I let out a scared squeak, he leans in and says, “Keep quiet, and I won’t hurt you too much.”

  Bile rises in my throat and, since I can’t seem to find my voice, I whisper, “You don’t want to do this.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, actually I do.”

  “Please. If you leave right now, I swear I won’t tell anyone what happened.”

  It’s not true, and he knows it.

  Without warning, he grabs my face and squeezes so hard that my lips pucker up all clown-like. “That mouth never quits, does it?” he sneers.

  With his free hand, he begins to unzip his pants. “Good thing I have something that’s going to keep you quiet for a while.”

  I start shaking my head, despite his hold on my face. He lets go enough to force me to my knees, which is worse. That’s when I start crying. He’s still limp, thank God, but he’s trying to rectify the situation.

  I can’t escape. He has me trapped between him and the SUV. I never thought I’d end up like this. But then, suddenly, my assailant is pulled away by two big bodies. No wait, make that three.

  I slide all the way to the ground and wipe away the tears that are clouding my vision. I need to see who has come to my rescue.

  “Oh,” I breathe out when I see three guys—Benny, Dylan, and my knight in shining armor, Nolan.

  I murmur his name, but then the events of the night catch up to me and I slowly lose
consciousness.

  I Should Kill the Bastard

  It takes Benny and Dylan together to pull me off the drunken douchebag who dared to attack my girl.

  “Stop it, man! You’re going to kill him.”

  “That’s the fucking idea,” I hiss out between clenched teeth as Benny slips between me and the prick I’m doling out punches on. The bastard is barely fighting back, and Benny is able to separate us by shoving me back against a cement pole before I go too far.

  “Calm down, Nolan,” he says.

  Up to this point, I’ve seen nothing but red—the colors of rage, hatred, and anger. But now that I’m away from the situation, albeit by only a few feet, my mind clears enough to realize I’ve yet to check on Lainey.

  I divert my attention over to where she’s on the ground, slumped against an SUV. Dylan is crouched down next to her, checking her vitals.

  Fuck, she’s out cold.

  “Let me go,” I say softly to Benny. He knows quiet me is far scarier than fired-up me, and he releases me immediately.

  Ignoring the fuck rolling around on the concrete—he’s no longer an issue—I go to Lainey. When I drop to my knees next to her Dylan makes room for me.

  “We should call an ambulance,” he says. “He hit her in the face pretty hard.”

  I reach out and tentatively touch her rapidly swelling cheek. Tossing a glare over my shoulder to where Benny is currently guarding her assailant so he doesn’t get up and run off, I state in the same dangerously quiet voice as before, “I should make him pay for this.”

  “I think you already have.”

  “I mean more.”

  Dylan blows out a breath. “Let the authorities handle it from here on out, Nolan. He’s not worth it. You have a career to think of.” He nods to Lainey, who’s coming to, and adds, “And more importantly, you have her.”

  Lainey starts to come to and, running my fingers through my hair, I say, “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Dylan calls the police then, and after they arrive we are all interviewed. No one asks about the injuries on the bad guy. I don’t know if it’s because we’re well-known hockey players and the police are cool with keeping our involvement on the down-low, or if there’s some other reason. We find out it’s the latter. Seems Lainey’s not the first cocktail waitress this jackass has lain in wait for.

  “It could’ve been much worse, Miss Shelburne,” one of the officers informs her.

  She shivers in my arms. That’s right, I haven’t let go of her since she woke up. I even insisted on staying by her side when she gave her statement to the police. But now there’s a lady officer who wants to speak with Lainey alone, and also have her checked over by the paramedics who arrived shortly after the officers.

  “S’okay, Nolan,” she tells me when I hesitate to let her go. She pats my forearm, like she’s consoling me. “I’ll be fine.”

  Logic tells me she will be, but my heart urges me to never let her out of my sight again.

  She’s leaving for Chicago soon, asshole. How do you plan on keeping an eye on her then?

  “Good question,” I murmur.

  “What’s that?” Lainey says.

  “It’s nothing, babe.” I tug her closer, kiss her uninjured cheek, and then reluctantly let her go. “Go talk to the officer and get checked out. But when you’re done, there are some things we need to talk about, things that can no longer wait.” She needs to know I love her. Fuck holding off.

  She eyes me curiously. “Like what kinds of things?”

  Like how much I love you, I hope my eyes convey.

  But since Lainey’s not a mind reader, she has no idea. She’s going to need to hear the words, and that means all the words.

  Good thing I’m finally ready to say them all…and more.

  Last Nights and Lost Words

  Turns out I don’t need to go to a hospital. I mean, I’m told I probably should, but I insist I’m okay. The paramedics still examine me and give me ice for my swollen cheek. And then I’m free to leave.

  Benny and Dylan go their separate ways, but I decide to let Nolan take me home. I figure I can pick up my car tomorrow. I’m too shaken to drive, plus Nolan mentioned that we need to talk.

  I don’t want to get into an in-depth conversation in front of Brent and Aubrey’s place, so when we reach the house, and he slows down, I say, “Can we just go to your house? I’d rather not have to explain my swollen cheek to Aubrey…or Brent.”

  “Of course we can just go there,” he says, driving on.

  We don’t say much more the next minute or two, but after we pull into his garage and the door goes down, he tells me, “Just so you don’t worry, I already told Dylan and Benny not to say a word about what happened tonight, especially not to Brent. Not that they would, but I figured I’d mention it just in case.”

  I really appreciate his discretion, and I have no problem expressing my gratitude. Reaching over and squeezing his hand, I say, “Thanks, Nolan.”

  When we’re finally in the house, I realize I feel more at home here than I do at my sister and her fiancé’s place. Maybe it’s because the longer I stay at Brent and Aubrey’s, the more I feel like an outsider. There’s no denying I’m a third wheel in their close relationship. It’s different here at Nolan’s, especially after what happened tonight. Things feel exceptionally right, like it’s finally just me and him, united at last.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asks.

  “Not too bad, but a little tired.”

  He nods and leads me into the living room, where he helps me settle in on his comfy sofa. “That better?” he asks.

  “Much.”

  He covers me with a soft knit blanket, then steps back and says, “Let me run upstairs and find you something to wear. I imagine you’d be more comfortable in different clothes, eh?”

  “Yes,” I murmur, happy to let him take care of me like this. “I definitely would.”

  He leaves, and a few minutes later he returns with a pair of gray lounge pants and a thick Wolves sweatshirt. As he hands me the items, I again thank him.

  “You don’t have to keep thanking me, Lainey.” He checks my ice pack, and finding it mostly melted, he says, “I’ll be back in a minute, I’m going to grab you a fresh pack from the freezer.”

  I don’t thank him this time, I just say “okay” before he heads to the kitchen.

  While he’s gone, I change into the fresh clothes. Since they belong to him, and are much too large, I have to roll up the legs of the pants like seven times. The sweatshirt literal hangs on me once I have that on. I don’t care. It just feels good to have the work clothes off, seeing as I couldn’t stop feeling that disgusting guy’s thick fingers on me, untying my corset. Shuddering, I kick the offending garment under the coffee table.

  Nolan, returning with the ice pack, catches me and says, “You’re done with that place for good I hope. You weren’t thinking of working your final shifts, were you?”

  I shake my head vehemently. “Hell, no. Not after what happened tonight.”

  He breathes a sigh of relief, and then takes a seat next to me. Gently, he presses the fresh, and I notice towel-wrapped ice pack to my cheek.

  His blue eyes convey deep concern as he murmurs, “I think it’s wise to never go back there.”

  I lean into his touch and close my eyes. “There’d be no point, anyway. I’m leaving for Chicago soon.”

  “About that, Lainey…”

  I open my eyes, and he reaches out to stroke my hair. It feels so good to be taken care of by Nolan. When he lets go like this, he has a way of making you feel like you’re the most important person in his life.

  If only that were really true. Maybe then I wouldn’t go to Chicago. The last thing I want to do after what just went down is to start all over somewhere else, completely alone.

  I sigh, and Nolan starts to say something. But I don’t want this moment ruined by words. Or rather, by the lack of the ones I long to hear.

  “Shhh…” I place a
finger to his lips. “Don’t say anything. Not right now, okay? I know you mentioned that we need to talk, but whatever it is you want to say it can wait for later.”

  Truth is I’m afraid all he wants to tell me is his final goodbye. I think he’s ready to send me off into the world and let go of what we had…and all that might have been.

  And I’m just not ready for that. Not now…and maybe not ever.

  He gives me a sad smile. “Sure, Lainey, we can talk later. Go ahead and rest for now.”

  When he opens his arms, nodding for me to crawl into them, I do so without hesitation. I wedge the ice pack between his chest and my cheek, and then I close my eyes and think how this is probably my last night with Nolan Solvenson.

  All the Words

  Words. What are they, anyway? When you think about it, they’re nothing more than letters strung together, that when uttered make a certain sound. Funny how impactful those sounds can be, though. It always amazes me how words can hurt or soothe, heal sometimes, or rip you to shreds.

  Sometimes not saying them at all speaks volumes, as well.

  That’s what I’ve done too much of the time. And look where it’s gotten me too—alone…or about to be.

  I hold Lainey close. I don’t want to lose her, not tonight or any night. I’d like to hold her like this for hours, but I feel moisture from her ice pack seeping through my shirt.

  I move the pack aside and turn her head to assess the damage to her cheek. Lainey’s sleeping so soundly that my movements don’t rouse her one bit. Her cheek is red, but the swelling is down considerably.

  Sighing, I shift beneath her so I can stretch my long legs. I’m clad in a pair of lounge pants like the ones I loaned her, only mine aren’t hanging on me.

  Once I have my back propped up against the sofa arm, I ease her down to rest against me, with her injured cheek facing up.

  She stirs at last, mumbling my name along with a contented sigh.