“Hear what?”
Garrick didn’t say anything, just stood there staring at him.
Rupert finally found his voice. “One Deena Lewis called the league this morning. She claims Garrick sexually assaulted her last night after leaving the bar.”
The blood drained from Rhian’s head and his knees buckled. He slid down the door and landed on his ass with a thump.
Garrick turned away and began pacing in the small office like a caged lion.
“It’s a fucking lie,” Rhian croaked from the floor.
“Of course it is,” Rupert snapped. He turned to Garrick. “What are you going to do? Do you have an alibi?”
Garrick glared at Rhian. “No. No alibi.” It wasn’t a statement, it was a command.
Rhian sat up. “Garrick—”
“No! I have no fucking alibi.”
Garrick spun in the tight space. He wanted to punch the wall and then swipe everything on Rupert’s desk to the floor. Rupert would probably wet himself if Garrick did.
Overwhelmed with frustration, he seethed silently and paced.
Rhian couldn’t alibi him. He was leaving for Boston in two days. Two fucking days. Garrick would not be the reason that fell through. He had no fucking idea how he was going to get out from under this bullshit, but it would not be at Rhian’s expense.
Rhian looked stricken. God, Garrick fucking hated that. He looked away. He wanted to apologize for yelling, but right now the words were beyond him.
Fisting his hands in his hair, he turned to Rupert for support and froze. Rupert stood with his back to the far corner of his office, putting as much space between himself and Garrick as possible, his face pale and eyes wide.
He looked absolutely terrified.
“Jesus, Rupert. I’m not going to hurt you!”
Rupert nodded. His eyes never left Garrick’s face.
Battling his desire to yell that now was not the time for Rupert’s issues to explode all over them, Garrick collected himself and tried to appear less threatening.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said again in as calm a voice as he could manage.
“I know.” The quickly blurted words were not convincing.
“Rupert, please. Help me.” Garrick was shocked at how raw his voice, his plea, came out.
Rupert stepped up to his desk, though still kept it between them. “I will help you. Of course. I’ll call Reese. And the others. They need to be told. And you need to prepare your response. You need an alibi.”
Garrick glanced at Rhian again and swallowed. “I don’t have an alibi.”
Rhian opened his mouth to say something, but Garrick cut him off. “No, Rhian. Please. I would never forgive myself.”
Rupert cleared his throat. “Can you at least tell me?”
Garrick sighed and turned back to Rupert. “Rhian and I went to my house from the bar last night. He was with me all night.”
“But that’s good,” Rupert said, so fucking hopeful.
“No, it’s not. We’re not going to tell anyone that. If you tell anyone, Rupert, I’m going to deny it. And so will Rhian.”
Rhian stood.
“I have no alibi,” Garrick said one last time. Firmly. “We’re going to have to figure out another way to prove Deena is a fucking liar.”
Rupert looked between the two of them. Garrick refused to glance at Rhian. They both knew this was the right thing to do.
Rupert nodded slowly and sat down at his desk. “Okay, that’s going to be a problem, but let’s figure out what else we can do.”
Rhian collapsed into one of Rupert’s guest chairs. “She can’t have any proof. Maybe someone saw her wherever she really went last night.”
“I never saw her at the bar,” Garrick said. “Did either of you see her?”
Rupert shrugged. “I don’t know who this woman is, so I wouldn’t know.”
Rhian shook his head. “I didn’t see her. Or any of her friends. We can ask the rest of the guys.”
That would be Garrick’s first stop when he left here. He wasn’t looking forward to hearing whatever else Tim, Dave, and Chris might want to say to him.
Fuck. He’d worry about that later. He had to focus on the big shit right now. “The rest of the team went to Smitty’s, and presumably the fans went there, too.”
“Except that one fellow,” Rupert said. “The one who likes to watch you practice, Rhian.”
Rhian went rigid in his seat.
Garrick’s head snapped up. “Who?”
“You know the one. He likes to sit in the stands during practice. He watches Rhian like a hawk. I’d wondered if he was a scout who hadn’t heard Rhian had already been signed to Boston.”
Garrick’s blood went cold. “Steve.”
Rhian slumped, his face in his hands. “Oh god, Garrick. I’m so sorry.”
Garrick growled. “Shut up. It’s not your fault.” He turned back to Rupert. “Where was he?”
“What?” Once again Rupert was looking between them, clearly wanting to ask questions.
Too bad. Garrick wasn’t going to tell him about the blackmail and he wasn’t about to let Rhian do it either.
“Where and when did you see Steve?” Garrick repeated. “Rhian’s fan,” he clarified through gritted teeth.
Rupert shrugged. “When Reese and I were leaving. He was in the booth next to ours.”
Garrick began to grasp the sheer size and velocity of the shitstorm they were in. “Fuck,” he muttered. “He heard me tell everyone I’m an owner.” He looked at Rhian. “It doesn’t matter. He thinks by coming after me, he’s punishing you. Forcing your hand. But if you alibi me, he’ll really have you by the short hairs.”
Rhian swallowed so hard his throat clicked. “God, I’m so sorry. I’ll find him. Give him whatever he wants.”
“No, you won’t. That’s a fucking rat hole and you know it. And it wouldn’t fix anything. He still knows all kinds of shit he shouldn’t and he can’t be trusted. We’re better off discrediting Deena. Though, the chances of us finding someone else who saw Deena last night are slim. I’m just going to have to hope the cops see through it.”
“Garrick,” Rhian pleaded, “Maybe I can—”
“You can’t.”
Rhian couldn’t stop this. Not without risking everything. Boston had nothing invested at this point. No way would they put up with any kind of scandal or police investigation. They’d drop Rhian’s ass like a hot potato if they got even a whiff of trouble. As far as they were concerned, Rhian was expendable.
“Garrick,” Rupert said thoughtfully, “have the police contacted you?”
“No. Not yet.”
Rupert pulled something up on his monitor. “This says Deena contacted the league. Not Ice Cats management. I suppose that goes to your supposition that she knows you’re one of the new owners.”
Garrick nodded, not sure where Rupert was going.
“But why,” Rupert continued, “wouldn’t she have gone to the police?”
“Because it’s bullshit?” Rhian said.
“Yes, of course, but I’m wondering what she really wants. Why call the league? Why not the police?”
“She wants something,” Garrick agreed. “I’m fairly certain she’s not acting on her own. I’m almost positive Steve is putting her up to it.”
“Why?” Rupert asked again. “And who is this Steve person?”
Garrick glanced at Rhian’s guilty face. “It doesn’t matter. I just need to figure out how to stop it.”
“Should you go to the police?” Rupert asked.
Garrick mulled that over. “I’m not sure I want to put myself on their radar. It’s not going to go well for the team and the rest of the owners if I start spreading this shit around.”
“Garrick, my friend,” Rupert said drily, “this shit is spreading faster than you can stop it. Maybe you should report her first. Offer your DNA. Fingerprints. Whatever.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. Garrick stood. “I want to talk
to Jack. He’s got a friend who’s a Mountie. Maybe Jack can get him to talk to me off the record. See what he suggests.”
“Good idea,” Rupert said.
Rhian rose to his feet. “I’ll come with you.”
“No,” Garrick said, wincing at his sharp tone. The hurt on Rhian’s face was fucking killing him. “Rupert, pull me from the roster. Let Rick know I’m off the ice, possibly for good.”
Rhian appeared more upset by his request than Garrick felt.
“Please, Rhian. Walk out of this office and don’t look back. Go to the gym. Kick ass in tonight’s game. Go home. Pack. From now on, I don’t exist.”
“But—”
“You have to stay clear of this. Of me. Do you understand? You leave in two days. Just fucking hold your breath and get it done. You can’t have anything to do with me.”
It was the right thing to do, the best possible outcome, the unavoidable result they’d been planning on all along.
The end.
Only Garrick hadn’t planned on it hurting so damn much.
Rhian looked like he wanted to argue. In fact, he looked furious. “Fuck you,” he whispered hoarsely.
Then he was gone, the door slamming behind him.
Chapter Twenty Two
Rhian sat at the bar in Smitty’s, surrounded by post-win hockey revelers getting drunk and stupid. But then, who was he to judge? He was the stupidest of them all to even be there.
He scanned the crowd again and felt a jolt of fury when he saw Deena coming through the door. She looked like hell. Another black eye, her cheek scraped raw, and her chin badly bruised.
Jesus Christ, she claimed Garrick had done that?
Clearly someone had attacked her, and Rhian didn’t have to guess who. Fucking Steve. How could he do that to someone?
Forcing thoughts of Steve, who was nowhere to be found, out of his mind, he kept an eye on Deena. He left her to mingle for a while, waiting until she’d spoken to at least ten other people who would be able to verify she was drinking and having a grand old time, soaking up all the attention her injuries garnered. Dave and Chris studied her face, their concern obvious. She laughed it off and flirted so aggressively, his friends looked alarmed by her behavior. Rhian almost smiled. They may have been total assholes last night, but Rhian still believed Garrick could count on them to stand by him when push came to shove.
And Deena was giving Garrick one hell of a shove.
When he couldn’t stand to wait another minute, he stood from his seat in the thick of the crowd and moved to Deena’s side.
“You have a minute?” he asked quietly over her shoulder.
She spun around, and he got a closer look at her face, wincing in spite of his anger. Steve had really worked her over.
“What the fuck do you want?” she said, way too loudly.
Rhian forced a smile, nodding at the guys before turning back to Deena. “Let’s talk. Over here where everyone can see us.”
She studied him, eventually shrugging. Rhian led the way to the side of the room, still in the bar but away from prying ears.
Tim had joined Chris and Dave, and Rhian was painfully aware of their curious gazes.
“Let me help you, Deena. You can’t let Steve use you like this.”
It wasn’t what he’d intended to say when he’d come looking for her, but he couldn’t help but see her as a victim when he took in the damage.
“Fuck you, Savage.” She turned to walk away, but he caught her arm.
Rhian gritted his teeth. God, she was stupid. “What do you want?”
“Pardon me?”
“What do you want, Deena? I know you don’t want help, but there has to be something you want. Money? Sex?” Not that he could go through with the sex if she took him up on it. The very idea made him ill.
“Sex?” she asked with a strident laugh. “You think I want to fuck you now, you perv? I’ve seen what you like, and it’s sick.”
He almost puked at the thought that she’d seen anything of the sort. Holy shit, did Steve have proof?
“Money, then?”
Deena hooted, the sound grating across his nerves. “God, look at you. Groveling for your fag boyfriend. You’d actually fuck me because you love him? Jesus, that’s priceless.”
Rhian winced, praying her shrill voice didn’t carry over the music and loud conversations to the people around them.
“We both know you’re lying, Deena. You can’t have any proof that Garrick attacked you. What are you going to do when the cops ask for evidence?”
Her eyes widened at the mention of the police, but she recovered quickly. “Fuck you. They’ll believe me if I tell them it’s true. We have a plan and it’s working perfectly. Look at you here, pleading with me. I can’t wait to tell him about this.”
Either her voice was getting louder or his panic was making his hearing more acute. They were dangerously close to making a scene. With a sinking heart, he stared down at the hatred, the anger, shining in Deena’s face. He’d made a mistake coming here.
Without another word, he turned and left the bar.
Garrick sat in his kitchen and stared at the empty coffee cups Jack and his friend Grady had left behind. He felt fortunate Jack had been willing to call in a favor, and that Grady, a member of the RCMP, had been willing to come out to the house.
He was pretty sure Jack had doubted his claim of being home alone last night. Garrick was a notoriously terrible liar, but he’d sold it for all he was worth. Jack, thank god, hadn’t questioned him.
Grady hadn’t had much in the way of encouraging news or suggestions. If it boiled down to a he-said-she-said, he could be in some serious shit. His guts churned at the idea that Deena and Steve could destroy him. But he’d be damned if they would take Rhian down, too.
Cleaning up the kitchen, he tried to empty his mind of everything but the next incredibly grim task at hand. The call to Savannah. How the hell was he going to tell her?
He dragged his ass upstairs, stripped, and crawled into bed with his phone. It was late and he could feel exhaustion pulling him under.
With a sigh, he dialed Savannah’s number.
“Hello, stranger.”
Her voice, as always, warmed him.
“Hi there.”
“What’s wrong?”
He appreciated that she didn’t beat around the bush, and he hadn’t kept the sadness, the resignation from his voice. There was no way to pretty this up.
“I’ve got a problem. A big one.” He laid it all out. Deena’s accusation. His lack of alibi, and why. He wasn’t going to lie to Savannah about any of it. He trusted her to understand.
Savannah was outraged, furious, frustrated. All the things he was experiencing. It was hard not to let fear overrule everything else, but she worked her way past it the way he had been doing all day. He told her about his conversation with Jack and Grady. If Deena went to the cops, he would immediately turn himself in to try to get out in front of this thing.
“What are you going to tell them?” she asked.
“I don’t know. That it’s bullshit? That I don’t have any way of proving that it’s bullshit, except that I’m certain she can’t have any proof either?”
“Garrick, maybe you should talk to Rhian. Maybe—”
“No.”
“Is he asking you not to tell anyone?”
“No, nothing like that. Hell, he’d do it. He’d fucking ruin his career if I let him. That’s why I can’t. Sav, I don’t know how to explain it, but he needs protecting. He needs to go to Boston and have his dreams come true. He’s got so much promise, and not just on the ice. And this innate dignity. Like you, actually. He would toss it all away to help me, but I can’t let him. I want his dreams to come true, too, you know? Maybe that sounds stupid.”
There was a long pause, and for a moment Garrick worried his phone had cut out.
“Oh my god,” Savannah said, shock thick in her voice. “You’re in love with him.”
“Wh
at? No.” His heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the denial. “I love you.”
When she didn’t answer, he panicked, barely able to breathe, his eyes burning.
“Savannah, please. I love you. You know I do. You have to believe me. My feelings for you have not changed. At all.”
The next ten seconds were the longest of his entire fucking life.
“I believe you,” she said at last.
He slumped on the bed. “Thank god,” he murmured, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I love you, baby. I do. I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you. I’m one hundred percent certain about that.”
“I believe you,” she said again, this time with more conviction. “But tell me something, Garrick.”
“Yeah?” He dreaded what would come next. No one could see through him like Savannah.
“How do you feel about never seeing him again? About never being with him again? Never touching him. Holding him.”
Garrick fought to breathe past the steel band around his chest. He wanted to lie. To tell her he felt nothing, that it was cool and had been fun and he was totally fine that it was over. But he couldn’t.
“Sad,” he confessed in a soft voice. “But…”
“Have you changed the way you act around him? Have you changed?”
“It hasn’t changed the way I feel about you.”
“I believe you. But tell me the truth. What’s changed?”
He thought about it for a while, trying to find the right words. “He makes me more…patient, I guess. I mean, you know I’m not normally a patient person. I want to demand answers to all these mysteries he’s carrying around, but I can’t. I won’t, because I know it would hurt him to tell me before he’s ready. And I don’t ever want him to be hurt. I want to protect him. I want to prove to him that someone out there will do the right thing. Will put him first. God, Savannah, I don’t think anyone has ever put him first.”
“So you want to save him?”
“No, that’s not it,” he countered, trying to figure it out as he was saying it. “He makes me want to be the kind of person he deserves to be with. A better person, maybe, than I am now.”
Savannah was quiet for a moment.
“Do you hear yourself?” she asked gently.
The Hat Trick Box Set Page 41
