Page 12 of Full Body Hit, Part 1 (Alpha Omega Hockey #5)

His lungs curled up, breath trapped there, chest aching with it like he’d been swallowed up by a rush of cold water.

He didn’t have to look at the screen to know who it was.

He grabbed his stuff and rushed out of the locker room. His hand was shaking as he lifted his phone to his ear.

He tried to walk in a straight line and picked up.

After his dad died, Chase’s mom had changed. Or maybe she had always been like that, and his dad had just shielded Chase from it, taking the brunt of her sharp tongue until he couldn’t anymore.

It had been an adjustment to go from his dad’s gentle ways to his mom’s mercurial temper. Chase had tried so hard to make her happy. To do exactly as she said, exactly as she said it. To try and predict her needs.

To be good.

Nothing seemed to work. Not even hockey, really, except the rare games he scored so much even she couldn’t criticise him.

In the beginning, he’d tried to take everything she threw at him, but it was too much. He’d had to learn how to deal with it. How to diminish the impact of her words.

The only thing he’d ever come up with was to just…disappear.

When his mom got angry, he’d just go somewhere else. He’d leave his body behind so his mom could shout at it, go somewhere warm and dark and his.

“How many times—” His mom’s voice faded as he finally stepped outside.

He made the appropriate noises back. Yes, he could do better. No, he wasn’t slacking off. Yes, he wanted this. He knew it didn’t look like it. Yes, he knew how much she had sacrificed for him. No, he wasn’t throwing it all away.

“You’re not even trying,” his mom barked.

“I—”

“You’re not. Either you’re not good enough, or you’re not trying. Which one is it?”

Chase opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“God. What a waste.” With that, his mom hung up.

He stood at the entry of the covered car park, the wind buffeting him. He was being scooped out. There was a razor-sharp thing inside him, slicing him up.

He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to contain everything broiling in the core of him.

The hurt. The disappointment. The hopelessness.

And the anger, too.

Because it wasn’t just joylessness there. Deep under the hurt and the disappointment there was a creature on fire.

It wanted to scream.

He’d never shouted at his mom. At anyone, really. But he wanted to, sometimes. “I’m trying,” he wanted to holler. He didn’t need to be berated into wanting more, into trying to do better. God, he was so starving for it—it was going to kill him.

Did he only deserve love if he was good at hockey?

He pushed his fingers into his sides, digging at his ribs. He knew it wasn’t right to be this angry at his mom—she’d given him everything. Had birthed him at the peak of her career as a figure skater, which eventually led to an injury when she tried to make it back to the Olympics.

And she hadn’t complained. She hadn’t stopped taking care of Chase. She’d taken him to every practice and been to every game, pushing him into the player he was now.

He should be nothing but thankful. And he was , but…sometimes, when he felt this empty and sad and crushed, he wished she could be his mom and not just a hockey coach.

There was a wild, angry creature in his gut every time he was criticised for not trying enough, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

It wasn’t something he was supposed to feel…he just couldn’t stop. He—

“Yo, you want to get run over or something?”

Everything froze. His heart, the blood rushing through his veins, the howling creature in his stomach.

Of course Auston would appear right then to witness Chase at his lowest.

“Hello?” Auston called out sarcastically, steps echoing as he got closer.

Chase flinched violently as a hand landed on his shoulder, nerves flayed. He spun and shoved Auston away, barely able to breathe with him so near.

“Whoa!” Auston stumbled back, eyes wide. “What the hell?”

Chase stepped away too, feeling raw all over. “Don’t touch me.”

Auston raised his hands as if he were being arrested. “Jesus, okay. What the hell is up with you?”

“You, you don’t—” Chase couldn’t even get the words out, his mom’s voice still ringing in his head.

What if he wasn’t good enough to make it in the NHL? What if the only thing he’d ever been good at, the only thing that gave him worth, wasn’t that valuable after all?

“Fuck you,” Chase hissed. It came out of the pit of him, right from the creature’s throat.

“Fuck me ? Fuck you , kid. Jesus, you’re all over the place. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Chase said, voice weak. It felt like a lie.

“Is this about the game?” Auston asked.

Chase shook his head instinctively, trying to ward Auston off. He couldn’t take anymore, please, God, he just couldn’t.

“Right, of course it isn’t. You know, it’d be a little easier to help you out if you actually showed that you gave a shit.”

Chase stared at him. How much more obvious could he be? What did he have to do to prove that he wanted to be better?

That he wanted to be good?

“You don’t know anything,” Chase whispered.

Auston threw his hands up, rolling his eyes skyward. “Right, sure. What do I know about any of this, huh?”

Chase managed not to shrink away from Auston as he walked past him.

Chase clenched his hands. Every muscle in his body hurt.

He made his way to his car, slamming the door behind him, breath leaving him shakily.

God, he was such a fuckup.

He drove home in a trance, the New Orleans night racing past him. His apartment greeted him cold and empty, smelling of nothing that Chase could identify.

He sat on the couch, staring at the blank TV. He wished he had something to hold. Something soft to surround him. Something—

He flinched as his phone buzzed. It was just some stupid notification on Lookr about a deal for the paid version.

He clicked on it, going to his homepage. There was Aunix, the only guy he’d talked to. He read the last text in the thread after Chase had told Aunix he didn’t know what he wanted.

Aunix

Well I cant answer that for you, kid

Hit me up when you figure out the answer

Chase was typing before he knew what he was doing.

Charlie

I want to be good

He could feel his pulse in his fucking throat. His eyes were burning. He felt like he was drowning in an endless black, sinking without anything to hold onto.

Aunix

You want to feel good? Or be good?

Chase’s face burned, but he had no fucks left to give. He was already at rock bottom. What was a little more humiliation?

Charlie

I want to be good

There was a pause. Aunix was probably laughing at him. Who the fuck went on a dating app and told the first person who came along that they wanted to be good . He—

Aunix

Where are you?

Charlie

Home

Aunix

Roommates?

Charlie

No

Aunix

Go to the kitchen. Pour yourself a glass of water and drink it all. Pace yourself. Tell me when you’re finished.

A bolt of electricity went through Chase, shocking parts of him that had been numbed and sick.

He went to the kitchen. Poured a cup of water. His hands were shaking, but his body was alive now, soul and muscle aligned.

He was suddenly parched. The water diluted the thickness in his mouth, cooled his throat. He forced himself to go slow, like Aunix had said. He took a deep breath. Returned to the couch.

Charlie

Done

Aunix

How are you feeling?

Charlie

Better

Thanks

Aunix

Is your bath clean?

Chase blinked at the change in subject. He had a cleaning service that went to his apartment every other day—luckily, they’d gone through yesterday.

Charlie

Yeah

Aunix

Draw yourself a bath. Put some bubbles in it. You have any of those bomb things that make the water fizzy?

Chase laughed.

Charlie

Do I have a bomb that makes water fizzy?

No, unfortunately the police came over yesterday and took it off me

Aunix

Okay, funny pants. Just make the water as nice as you can

Charlie

Ok

Chase went and did as he was asked. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d taken a warm bath—he’d taken plenty of cold ones, but not one for pleasure.

It was therapeutic, watching the water fill the tub up. Putting some of his body wash under the stream to make the bubbles rise.

The bath was steaming after he was finished.

Charlie

Done

Aunix

Good

Want you to get in and try to relax

Concentrate on your muscles, feel them let go

You like music?

Charlie

Yeah I’m not an alien

Aunix

Haha. Put this album on.

You can turn it off if you don’t like it

Charlie

Ok

Aunix

Let me know when you’re out and dry

Take it slow

Charlie

Ok

He undressed, not exactly feeling observed, but watched over, like there was someone hearing out for him in the other room, making sure he was okay.

He slipped into the water. The heat unlocked his muscles, soothing the knots that had built, his shoulders unwinding slowly as he relaxed.

He didn’t have to worry about whether he was wasting time or being too indulgent. He was being good. Listening to his Alpha—well, not his Alpha, but…

He was being good. Following instructions.

He let his mind drift, unspooling into loose string instead of a tangled, tight ball. Every time the events of the day tried to creep in, he just focused on the Alpha’s clear commands—this, at least, he couldn’t fuck up.

He got out before the water cooled too much, rinsing off with the shower and wrapping up in a towel. The cloth was thin and scratchy, some cheap thing he’d bought online even though he had more than enough money to get something better quality.

He wondered what the Alpha would think of his towels. Somehow, Chase could guess he wouldn’t approve, even if it was only Chase using them.

He dried off, including his hair, and then sat on the edge of the bed, heart skipping a beat as he texted the Alpha.

Charlie

I’m out now

Aunix

How was it?

How’re you feeling?

Charlie

So much better

I can’t remember the last time I took a bath

Aunix

No? You don’t like them?

Charlie

No it’s not that I don’t like them

I just don’t usually do that kind of stuff