Page 36

Chapter 36

Aiden

“Nervous?”

With a slight headshake, I haul the jersey over my head, then look over at Cameron, who’s doing the same. “Uneasy is more like it.”

“Relax. You put the work in, and you’ll reap all the benefits tonight,” he assures me. “We all will.”

“It’s not about the game, man. I can’t shake this heavy feeling.”

Cameron shrugs. “Maybe it’s Scarlett. You’re taking the breakup much harder than you admit.”

Pursing my lips, I put my socks on. I’d rather die than admit that I’ve barely slept since that fight with Scarlett, or that I’ve hardly eaten anything. This pain in my stomach is the worst I’ve ever endured and it’s getting worse. I can barely think without her crossing my mind. I’m going crazy not hearing her voice, seeing that coy smile or staring into those beautiful blue eyes. I miss her touch, her warmth, her scent—

Fuck.

Yanking on my other sock, I grab my gym bag and stuff it into the locker. “Please don’t mention her name around me.”

Cameron’s hands fly up. “Done.”

Noah walks past me, then stops and backs up. “You and I might not see eye to eye lately, but I’ve got your back out there tonight, one hundred percent.”

“Thanks, man. Right back at you.”

He pats my shoulder and goes off and it hits me that I haven’t seen Noah so at ease in a long time. Good for him and me. If the goalkeeper is sharp and ready, my job is half done.

Coach soon arrives to give us the customary pep talk that I barely hear. My mind is elsewhere, trying to find the source of my anxiety. Cameron’s probably right and I’m just stuck on Scarlett’s betrayal. If that’s the case, I’ll be living with this feeling for a long time.

As we all file out from the locker room, a slender girl with wild, dark hair comes running down the hall. “Murderers!” she yells. “You tried to murder my friend!”

“Jesus Christ. Not cuckoo Tabitha,” someone mutters and I frown, because she’s staring right at me.

“This is all your fault,” she mumbles, trying to push past two guys who hold her back. “If she dies, her blood will be on your shoulders, you jerk! I’ll put a hex on you, your family and this entire fucking team!”

“Who are you talking about?” I ask, just as it hits me. I saw her on the lawn with Scarlett a few weeks ago.

“Scarlett Pierce. Remember her? Yeah, she was just rushed to the hospital because of you. She’s probably not even alive at this point—”

I push through my teammates, my focus on the exit at the end of the hall. A firm grip on my arm makes me stop. I’ve never seen Coach looking so stern.

“Don’t you dare take another step,” he barks. “You’re not going to ruin your future over some girl.”

“Did you hear what she said? Scarlett’s there because of me. I need to—”

“Focus on winning the game. Are you a doctor? There’s nothing you can do for her,” Coach replies.

“He’s right, man,” Noah cuts in. “Eyes on the prize. You can always take care of her later—”

With a growl, I lunge at him. Lucky for him, there are five guys standing between us, blocking the way. “It was you,” I seethe. “You did this to her.”

“What?” he scoff-laughs, looking around at the other guys. “Dude, I was here the entire time.”

“It can’t be Noah,” Michael cuts in. “It can’t be any of us. We were all here.”

I shake off Cameron’s hold on me, pushing through them and toward the ice rink. “Whoever did this to her will have hell to pay, that’s all I’m saying,” I throw over my shoulder. Until then, I’m going to throw everything I have into this game.

Easier fucking said than done.

It’s like an uphill task trying to keep the game flowing. I can see my teammates’ frustration whenever I either miss a pass, or mistakenly send a puck to the opposing team. My sixth miss at goal has Odean yelling, “Snap the fuck out of it, Hunter!” as he zips past me.

I wish it was that simple. The more time passes, the worse this heavy sensation in my gut, the more I worry about Scarlett. Tabitha mentioned she might not be alive, for fuck’s sake. What the hell did they do to her?

The sound of a sharp whistle announces our time out and when Coach beckons to me, I already know what he’s going to say.

“If you’re no longer interested in making it to the finals, sit out the rest of the game. Your sub is more than ready to play,” he says.

Okay, so that was not what I expected.

“You worked your ass off to get here; is this how you want to go out?” he continues.

“Of course not, Coach.”

“Then fucking show me how much you want this, Hunter, because I’m no longer convinced.”

With a nod, I drag my helmet back on. I might lose out on being drafted by New York, but not because of playing a crappy game. I position my body square for the face-off. The second the puck falls, I’m out like the speed of light.

Tossing my concern of Scarlett to the back of my head, I zip around the rink, setting up my teammates in the offensive area and defending in the neutral zone. It takes an hour to reclaim what we’d lost in the earlier stages of the game that ended one point in our favor.

A win is a win.

“Hey, we’re heading to Mickey’s to celebrate,” Cameron says cautiously as I yank on a clean shirt half an hour later. “No chance you’d want to join us, huh?”

“What do you think?” I snap. “I’m not hanging out with whoever hurt Scarlett.”

“Dude, it can’t be one of us. We were all here. It’s probably her partner in crime trying to tie up a loose end.”

“Scarlett had no partner in crime.” She saw an opportunity to get back at me and she took it, that’s all.

Cameron appears ready to argue further but thinks better of it. “We’ll save you a seat in case you change your mind.”

I shoot him a stiff thumbs-up sign, throw a glare at the other guys, then storm out. People congratulate me as I go out and I respond with a dry smile. It’s bittersweet. I should be over the moon, heading out with the guys to celebrate this monumental victory. Instead, I’m driving over the speed limit, running several red lights with anxiety swarming my stomach and a prayer on my lips.

Please, let Scarlett be okay.

I’ll forgive everything she has done, anything to ensure she remains alive and well.

Parking haphazardly in the hospital lot, I sprint into the waiting room, heading straight to reception. A string of curses sound on my right as the smiling nurse looks up at me.

“Can I help you—”

“You’re not welcome here.”

His voice comes low and threatening behind me. I turn, meeting her dad at face level. If he could snap my neck, I doubt he would hesitate. I glance down at his flexing hands, then breathe out a sigh.

“I don’t want any trouble, Mr. Pierce.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come,” he fires back, still in that low, menacing tone. “And if I were you, I’d get the hell out right away. See, I’m not sure how long I can stop her mom and sister from ripping you to shreds.”

He jerks his head to the left, where Mrs. Pierce and a slightly older version of Scarlett glares back at me. “Look, I just want to know if she’s okay,” I say to him.

“Okay?” He snorts. “The doctor says she has minimal brain injury from the beating, but she’s not okay. She won’t be for a long time, thanks to you.”

“I would never lay a hand on Scarlett,” I deny fiercely. “I lo—”

The remaining words fly down my throat as realization sinks in. Mr. Pierce’s bushy brows lift as his arms cross over his chest. “If you care for my daughter any at all, wipe her from your memory. The second you walk out of here, she’s dead to you. Understood?”

“Mr. Pierce—”

“ Do I make my fucking self clear ?”

At least fifteen pairs of curious eyes turn in our direction. Reluctantly, I nod. “Loud and clear.”

Still with that stern expression, his hand swings toward the exit, a clear sign that he wants me out of Scarlett’s life right now . The hope that I’d get to see her vanishes like vapor, replaced by a sensation that makes it hard to breathe.

I suck in a lungful of air as I step into the night, more lost than I’ve ever felt in my life. How the fuck did I get here? How did I go from a normal college guy, leaning on hockey for distraction, to someone responsible for an attempted murder on Scarlett’s life?

Closing the car door, I lean back in the seat, staring through the windshield, contemplating my next move. I’m not ready to go home to face questions about my non-existent relationship with Casey. Now that I’ve made the finals, I’m sure my dad will be ready to press send on that email if I don’t do as he says.

Fuck my fucking life.

I don’t want to be alone with these thoughts that makes me want to do something crazy, like find whoever did this to Scarlett and fuck them up real good, but I can’t achieve my goals from prison. With my mind shifting to the other side of town, I put my car in drive.