Protection.
He had to protect Garrick.
It would help, Rhian thought with an inward sigh, if Garrick would stop glaring at him like he’d like to pound him into the floor.
As if reading his mind, Rupert squeezed Garrick’s arm hard enough to turn Garrick’s skin white.
Garrick aimed his glare at Rupert, and Rhian approached the detective. He smiled and held out his hand, wishing like hell he could do this in private.
“I’m Rhian Savage. Garrick told me what was happening yesterday when Deena approached the league about this.” He hoped the cops also thought that was suspicious. “As I understand it, she’s claiming Garrick assaulted her the night before last after he left Quigley’s Bar and Grill. As the hostess, Sandy, can attest, as well as Rupert,” he pointed at Rupert and carefully ignored Reese, who had faded into the background of the crowd, “I left within five minutes of Garrick. I went directly to his house and he was there when I arrived.”
He ignored the wide-eyed looks being exchanged.
At least he had the detective’s undivided attention. “And how long did you stay?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “I spent the night.”
Everyone went still. Rhian didn’t dare glance at Garrick.
“Rhian is headed to the NHL,” Garrick said with great pride, as if this explained his sleepover. “He had a bunch of shit on his mind, so he came over to talk it out in private.”
Rhian nodded and followed Garrick’s lead. “Yeah, been nervous about that and invited myself over.” The nervous part was total bullshit and a good number of the people present probably knew it. He and Garrick might be digging themselves into a hole, but he kept shoveling for all he was worth.
Now even the detective was staring at the fucking hickey. “Do you have any way of proving you were there?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t make any calls or anything. It was late and we—” went straight to bed after fucking on the dining room table.
While he choked on the lie, Garrick jumped in. “We talked. We didn’t go online or go anywhere. It was just us. Talking. Until late.”
Good god, Garrick was the worst liar. He would single-handedly convince the entire team they’d fucked like crazed monkeys all night if he didn’t shut up.
“Do you need a statement?” Rhian asked before Garrick could open his mouth again.
The detective nodded. “I’m going to need all of you who were at Quigley’s that night to come with me.” He turned to Deena. “And you should probably come along as well.”
Deena’s eyes widened. “Why do I have to go? I already told you what happened.” She pointed at Rhian. “He’s a liar!”
Steve stepped forward, his smile smug, a clear warning in his eyes.
“I’m not lying,” Rhian said firmly. “She is.”
“I’m not!”
“Deena, don’t do this,” Garrick pleaded.
“No, Garrick, you don’t do this. I’m telling the truth.” Her shrill cry sounded particularly unconvincing. Then she turned on Rhian and he almost stepped back to get away from the vicious glee in her eyes. “You should think about what telling the truth really means, Rhian.”
Rhian shook his head. “No, Deena, you need to think about what your bullshit is doing. How can you live with yourself?”
Rhian knew he’d made a mistake as soon as the words left his mouth.
Chapter Twenty Five
Deena melted down before everyone’s eyes, her focus fixed on Rhian. Garrick had wanted her to crack, to come completely unhinged in front of the cops, but not at Rhian. Garrick had to do something to get her attention back on him.
“Deena!” She wasn’t the only one who jumped when he hollered her name. “Tell the truth, is all this because I wouldn’t sleep with you?”
It was hard to say who was more stunned by his accusation. Maybe Rhian. Or the detective. Or Steve.
Or Deena. “What?”
“Look around you, Deena. Everyone here knows you’ve been trying to work your way through—or should I say under?—every man on the team.”
Yup. Now Rhian definitely appeared the most shocked, though most of the men who knew him were agape. Garrick had never in his life spoken to a woman with such contempt and disrespect. He wanted to wash his own mouth out with soap. Jesus. If this backfired, he was making his situation worse. The risk was nauseating.
Deena forgot all about Rhian. She turned to Garrick and glared at him through narrow eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on, Deena. You’re the ultimate puck bunny, and I said no. For five seasons I’ve been telling you no.” He turned to their audience as if to solicit support, though not able to actually make eye contact with anyone while this filth came from his mouth. “I wouldn’t touch that,” he said, pointing at Deena, “with a ten foot pole.”
Deena growled a second before she launched into the air, her hands lashing at him.
“You bastard,” she shrieked.
He jumped back, hoping the cops would stop her before she removed his face with her claws. It was Alexei, though, who caught her with an arm across her chest. She flailed against him. Alexei barely winced as her heels struck his shins and lacquered talons tore at his shirt.
Alexei looked to Garrick, silently asking what he should do. Garrick didn’t have the damnedest idea. He did know that the expression on the detective’s face proved it was working to his advantage for Deena to lose control and show her true colors.
He did the most infuriating thing he could think of—he smirked at Deena.
“I would never let you touch me,” Deena screamed. “You’re disgusting.”
The way she said it unnerved Garrick. He wanted to lunge forward and clap a hand over her mouth, but he couldn’t. He caught Rhian’s frantic stare.
Garrick had a terrible feeling he’d overplayed his hand.
“You fucking faggot! It’s not me. It’s because I’m a woman! You’re a fucking queer. You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if she was crazy enough to let you touch her in the first place. You’re a fucking pervert!”
The color drain from Rhian’s face.
Garrick focused on one thing—she hadn’t said Rhian’s name. Garrick could weather this, but fuck, he didn’t know where to look. What to do.
Jack’s hand on his arm brought him up short.
“Which is it?” Jack demanded.
Garrick looked at his friend, confused. Jack stared Deena down.
“Which is it?” he repeated.
“What?” Deena asked.
“Did he rape you or is he gay? Which is it?”
If Garrick hadn’t been struck dumb by the fact that his sexuality was being discussed at very high volume in a public place, he might have kissed Jack, rumors be damned.
Deena appeared positively stumped.
The detective turned to her. “It’s a good question, Ms. Lewis. Gay men don’t often rape women. And you’ve just stated Mr. LeBlanc wouldn’t know what to do with a woman, should he find himself with one.”
A few snickers rippled through the crowd.
Deena hung from Alexei’s arm. She turned to Steve. “What do I do?”
Garrick felt a surge of victory.
Then Steve stepped forward and pulled out his phone.
“I don’t know anything about what this crazy bitch is talking about,” he said calmly, ignoring Deena when she launched at him. Alexei held on, barely. “But I can confirm that Garrick LeBlanc is gay.”
“You bastard! You fucking bastard,” Deena screeched. “You were the one who told me to say he raped me. It was your idea!”
Garrick would have been gratified by this admission, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Steve’s phone. Goddamn it, Steve held Rhian’s entire future in the palm of his hand.
Deena lurched forward and Alexei staggered, letting Deena careen into Steve. To anyone who didn’t know Alexei well, it appeared he’d been forced off balance by Deena’s struggles. In reality,
it was an old trick Alexei liked to employ on the ice to effectively rearrange an opponent without incurring a penalty.
Alexei reeled Deena back in while Steve tried to get out of the way, steadied by a helpful hand. Tim’s, if Garrick wasn’t mistaken. Then Mike’s arm snaked out from the crowd to flip the phone from Steve’s fingers. Chris deftly grabbed it midair.
In a nanosecond, the phone disappeared into the knot of players at Steve’s back.
Steve spun around. “Give me that!” he yelled.
Not one of Garrick’s friends moved, except to hold out their perfectly empty hands and smile.
Chris was the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “Give you what?”
Garrick bit his lip to hide his smile and wondered if Steve would want his phone back if he learned it was now shoved into someone’s sweaty jock strap.
Steve turned red. “My phone!”
Alexei, ever the keen strategist, chose that moment to release Deena. She fell on Steve like the proverbial woman scorned.
Steve howled and blood welled from the long scratches scoring his cheeks. In a flurry of limbs, he and Deena crashed to the concrete floor.
After a moment of stunned immobility, the cops jumped into the fray and pulled Deena and Steve apart with considerable effort. Garrick waited for them to demand the return of Steve’s phone, but either they didn’t give a shit or they were too preoccupied by Deena’s caterwauling and Steve’s loud protestations of innocence.
The important things were Deena’s loud and repeated accusations that Steve had put her up to the rape charge, and the cops apologizing to Garrick for the misunderstanding.
As soon as the show was over, their audience dispersed. Garrick apologized to his teammates for the drama and what he’d said to incite Deena. He thanked his friends for their help, shocked when Tim put an arm around his shoulders, while Dave and Chris grinned.
“Man, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Dave crowed.
The guys laughed at the blush heating Garrick’s face, leaving him with a few congratulatory whacks on the ass before going back into the gym. He smiled at their retreating backs. The weight pressing down on his chest since they’d left Quigley’s two nights ago lifted.
Another screech from down the corridor brought his attention back to the police. He spoke briefly with the detective, asking if anything could be done to get Deena help. She wasn’t innocent by a long shot, but she was also a victim in all this.
When at last the detective left, Garrick turned to follow Rupert to his office so he could quietly have a nervous breakdown. He’d made it only a few steps when Alexei caught his eye.
Rhian stood with Mike in the empty trainer’s office, trying not to fidget as they waited for Alexei and Garrick. Mike had yanked him in here while the cops had been handcuffing Steve, a spectacle Rhian had no desire to witness. He was relieved the entire ordeal was over, but ultimately, it was a sad end to a terrible situation.
Mike pulled Steve’s phone from the back of his shorts. Rhian forgot how to breathe. Somewhere on that phone was proof of Garrick being gay. Of Rhian being gay. Sort of.
Should he launch into an explanation about labels and bisexuality? Probably not helpful at this point.
Alexei and Garrick entered the room and Alexei shut the door behind them. The second he held out his hand, Mike tossed him the phone and Rhian watched in wide-eyed horror as it sailed through the air.
Alexei caught it deftly and tapped the screen exactly three times before his eyebrows disappeared beneath his shaggy hair.
Rhian’s heart fucking stopped. He jumped a foot when burst of laughter exploded from Alexei.
Rhian opened his mouth, not even sure what the fuck he could say. It’s not what you think. Oh wait, yes it is, but…
Alexei grinned, dropped the phone to the floor and brought his heel down with a resounding crunch. Plastic shrapnel scattered in all directions. A second stomp annihilated what was left of the phone.
“That should take care of that,” Alexei said with a nod.
Mike bent to pick up the SD card. “Come on, gather all the pieces.”
They did, quickly, without asking questions. When the remains of the phone were piled in Mike’s hand, he went to one of the trainer’s bins of soapy water and dumped the detritus into the suds, snapping the SD card in half before tossing it in, too.
Mike brushed his hands off above the water. “That should take care of it. There’s always a chance he backed the pictures up somewhere, but let’s hope not.”
Rhian stared at his friends, speechless.
Alexei shrugged. “From that angle, you see Garrick’s face clear enough, but not Rhian.”
Rhian’s eyes went wide.
“You going to tell me it’s not you?”
Rhian hesitated, then shook his head.
Alexei smiled. “Garrick here can take a hit. You? You don’t need any bad publicity right now. It’s good your face isn’t showing.”
“Thanks,” he choked out.
“You’re welcome,” Mike said as he moved to stand beside Alexei.
They exchanged a quiet, startlingly intimate look and threaded their fingers together.
Rhian stared at their joined hands.
“Oh,” he said lamely, a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh!”
Garrick started to laugh.
Alexei grinned. “What? You think you’re the only gay guys in hockey?”
Garrick laughed even harder.
“Come,” Alexei said to Mike as he towed him toward the door. “I have a sudden craving for butter. Let’s go home for lunch.”
Garrick’s laughter stopped abruptly, his face transformed to dawning horror.
Alexei and Mike let go of each other’s hands and stepped from the trainer’s office, closing the door behind them.
Rhian’s light mood died when Garrick turned to him with a dark look.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“It was the right thing to do.” And he refused to apologize for it. He didn’t much appreciate being yelled at for it, either.
“No, it wasn’t. You need to think about yourself first. This is the big time. You have to stay away from me. The rumors are going to be rampant, and you went and fucking admitted to spending the night at my house. And that hickey. You should—”
Rhian pressed his mouth to Garrick’s.
Garrick stood frozen, his eyes wide as Rhian gently rubbed one more kiss against his lips. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Rhian couldn’t say. Wouldn’t. He turned for the door. “Goodbye, Garrick.”
“No, wait.”
With all his heart, Rhian wanted to stay in this room with Garrick and never walk back out into the world. He’d gladly give up having to go clear out his locker with a huge hickey on his neck after having admitted to spending the night at Garrick’s. Would be grateful not to have to lie about something he wasn’t remotely ashamed of.
But he couldn’t have what he wanted. Not any of it.
He smiled over his shoulder at Garrick. “I suggest you come clean. I know it was important that no one know about Savannah while she still worked here, but your friends should know the truth.”
“But the truth—”
“The truth is that you’re going to marry her someday. Have a pack of kids running around your farmhouse. Make a family.”
Garrick didn’t deny it, even nodding a little. He always been honest with Rhian, and it was time for Rhian to be the same with himself.
Without another word, he walked away.
Chapter Twenty Six
Garrick spent the afternoon attempting to drink all his troubles away. It didn’t work, but when Jack had suggested they go out for lunch and a beer to celebrate his narrow escape, he’d leaped at the distraction.
He’d asked Rick to pull him off the ice the day before. What had loomed as a “big moment” in his career was of surprisingly little impact when compared to the relief of Deena and
Steve being carted away by the police and the agony of Rhian walking away.
What the fuck was up with that? It was best for Rhian to stay away from him until he left for Boston, but that goodbye had felt a whole lot more permanent than I’ll see you in a few months.
But then it wasn’t like they could go on as they had been. So really, once again, Rhian was doing what needed to be done. And Garrick was sitting here lamenting it for all he was worth.
“You going to sit there staring at that beer all afternoon or what?” Jack asked.
Garrick grunted. “Sorry. I’m not good company today.”
“No shit, dude.”
Garrick gave him the finger.
Jack laughed. “Listen, you want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Garrick thought about playing dumb but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to lie. First of all, he sucked at it. And secondly, Jack was his oldest friend. If he couldn’t cope with who Garrick was, then Garrick might as well know it up front.
“I’m bisexual,” he stated baldly, watching Jack for his reaction.
Jack smiled. “Congratulations.”
Garrick stared at him, hard, and waited for whatever came next. When Jack just took a sip of his beer and kept smiling, Garrick wanted to pop him one.
“That’s all you’re going to say? Congratulations?”
Jack laughed. “Yeah, that’s about it. Do you want me to tell you I’m gay?”
“What? No. I mean, not if you aren’t.”
“What if I am?”
Garrick refused to be confused. “So what if you are? You want a membership pin or something?”
Jack rolled his eyes.
Garrick chuckled. “Fine, I see your point.”
Jack grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “You were expecting me to freak out, weren’t you?”
“I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, well, no worries there. I am, you know.”
“You are what?”
Jack scanned the sparsely populated bar and shrugged, having apparently decided it didn’t matter if they could hear or not. “Gay.”
Garrick blinked at his friend. “Huh.”
The Hat Trick Box Set Page 43
