Page 55

Clark

“ T his is delicious,” Carlos said as he twirled more pasta around his fork. “Are you sure we’re allowed to eat this?”

“Yes. She labeled the container for us specifically,” I replied, as Carlos, Dimitri, and I ate pasta with Gwen’s homemade sauce, along with the garlic bread and salad they’d brought.

We sat around my little dining table, which now had flowers in a vintage glass jar on it. I think the flowers may have come from the same place the fresh herbs in the fridge came from.

“Her sauce is so good. Sometimes she trades my mom containers of it for tamales.” Carlos grabbed another piece of bread. “Did Gwen take everything from the dining hall again?”

“Yeah, she’s been bringing home baggies of vegetables all week, then made it last night in the slow-cooker.” I wasn’t exactly sure why she needed homemade pasta sauce, a bottle of Chianti, and necklaces painstakingly made from noodles.

I also knew better than to press for details after she waved it off as a goalie thing.

“Why don’t you just buy her ingredients?” Dimitri looked puzzled as he took a bite of salad.

“Gwen likes to contribute.” I didn’t have a problem with it. She didn’t take too much at once and always used what she took.

She was so inventive, like Ma. I enjoyed her being around. Right now, it was a bit of a lull for me. Soon enough, training camp and pre-season would start and it would get busy.

Another reason for Gwen to stay here. Then I could see her at night and in the morning. Already she was busy with class, practice, and work at the rink. It had stopped my heart when she mentioned moving out, and I was overjoyed when she stayed. I didn’t care about bills or any of that.

All I cared about was her.

Maybe I could talk her out of working as many shifts at the rink when she got her scholarship disbursement. I understood her not wanting to quit entirely, given she both enjoyed it and her privileges, but I wanted her to have time for what was important–like hockey and homework.

My phone buzzed. It wasn’t Gwen who was working, but Tenzin. He’d sent a ridiculous picture of him and Cooter with a giant fish. I missed him. He’d be back soon.

Our phones lit up all at once, with Anders blowing up the group chat.

Anders

The multi-team trade fell through. Fucking shit. Motor City tanked it to sign another Deloitte, instead of taking me.

I’ve never even heard of this guy.

Bronson Deloitte. Sounds like a tool.

Nia

I’m sorry. We’re not so bad.

Anders

No, you’re not. I’ve just been expecting the trade to go through.

Fuuuuccccck.

I felt bad for him, since he really wanted to go to Motor City. They had strung him along all summer. It was already September.

Me

That’s awful. Call your agent. Maybe something else can be arranged?

Grif

Another Deloitte nepo baby? Probably an asshole like the others.

“What the fuck, man,” Carlos said, trying to eat and read the group chat at the same time, getting sauce on his phone. He wiped it off with his thumb and licked it.

“This trade was doomed to fail once it got past four teams.” Dimitri frowned. “In Russia, it would not have been legal to have such a trade.”

It seemed large and awkward.

“Weren’t we expecting a forward out of this?” I asked. The texts came flying through, mostly comforting Anders, teasing him about having to be a Knight again, offering advice, and lambasting the Deloittes.

Dimitri nodded. “From the Scorpions. Castle could do it. We’ll be fine.”

Dean

Wonder if this Bronson asshole’s the one Castle was talking about.

Carlos looked up. “Sounds like an asshole.”

I frowned. “He could be nice. We shouldn’t assume all Deloittes are mean.”

I didn’t know him. At the same time, wouldn’t the Gears have planned for another Deloitte? It wasn’t like a fully-formed PHL-caliber forward would come out of nowhere. Huh.

“Not everyone’s a good person, Clark,” Dimitri replied.

We turned on the sports news, taking our food into the living room.

Grandpappy Deloitte, the owner of the Motor City Gears, was giving a press conference. “I’m so pleased that my grandson, Bronson Deloitte, has chosen to follow in his brothers’ footsteps and join the Gears as our newest forward.”

Next to him was his son, Coach Deloitte, and a blond guy with a bit of a beard in a very expensive suit. The guy kept moving his head in a way that made it hard to make out exactly what he looked like. He wore sunglasses. Inside.

“We’re getting a fucking line of Deloittes.” Carlos made a face. “We’re playing them for the home opener, too.”

“Ignore the trash talk. That’s what I do.” I finished my pasta. It was so good and I texted Gwen to let her know that, along with a picture of my empty plate.

“Welcome to the team, Son,” Coach Deloitte said, giving Bronson a Gears hat.

Bronson put it on, posing with his grandpappy and dad. I still couldn’t see his face.

“Thank you so much for this opportunity. I can’t wait to join my brothers and cousins on the ice and uphold the long upstanding tradition of Deloitte excellence in hockey. I’m looking forward to being coached by my dear old dad.” Bronson grinned at his dad, who gave him a light cuff on the arm, also smiling.

Something about this whole press-conference seemed forced.

“Why didn’t we know about Bronson? Were you hiding him away?” one reporter asked.

Coach Deloitte shrugged. “Not everyone enjoys growing up in the spotlight. He’s here now, where he belongs and ready to help lead our team to a championship. New York Knights, we’re coming for you.”

“The fuck they are,” Carlos muttered, using his garlic bread to mop up the sauce on his plate.

“Mr. Deloitte, in signing your grandson, you’ve also shut down the multi-team trade. A lot of teams were counting on key players to fill their roster. Aren’t you worried about the havoc it could wreck on the league this late in the off-season?” another asked.

Grandpappy Deloitte looked completely baffled. “Why would I be? I shouldn’t have to take a trade I don’t need. Training camp hasn’t happened yet, and free agents can be signed until the end of the year. The teams have plenty of time to figure things out. Besides, it’s good to shake things up.”

“Shake things up my ass.” Carlos sighed.

Dimitri was on his phone, consoling Anders. The group chat was still popping off, including memes and clips from the press conference.

It ended, and they focused on a shot of Bronson going over to a tiny, pretty woman, picking her up and spinning her around like she was the love of his life.

We cleaned up and did the dishes, and I got my skates, helmet, and keys. We were going to blackout skate tonight. “I’m sure the team will be fine. Let’s go bother Gwen at work.”

“Hey, Tony.” I waved to the rink manager and Gwen’s boss as we arrived. Blackout skate was going hard, as music thumped and people skated around with their glow necklaces.

“Hey, you missed all the excitement.” Gwen’s brow creased as she sold glow necklaces and handed out skates. She wore the light-up necklace I’d gotten her at the wedding. “Mr. Longfellow had a heart attack. The ambulances came and took him away.”

“Oh no, I hope he’s okay.” I frowned. The Knights’ general manager was really old and worked too hard.

Shit, was it the news of the trade tanking maybe?

“Me, too,” she told me.

We kept Gwen company while she rented skates, then went on the ice for a while. Gwen eventually got to join us, which was always a good time.

She cleaned up and took my arm, her backpack, and a small bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go. My hockey stuff can stay here. We have more EBUG camp tomorrow.”

I handed her the purple helmet Tenzin had gotten her. “Care for a ride?”

“Always.” She did a giddy dance as she put it on.

I loved that little dance. She looked so cute. We rode back to our place.

“Hey, I got my own invitation to the cup dinner.” She pulled out a black envelope from her backpack when we were back inside our place.

“Wow, I’m so glad you got one.” It made sense, considering everyone got to come from the trainers and equipment managers, to the front and back office staff. Technically, the EBUGs were staff. Unpaid staff, but staff.

She bit her lower lip. “Maybe Tenzin will be my date? Or do you want to ask him?”

“Go for it.” I sighed. I missed him.

She removed the invitation from the envelope and took a picture.

“Are you going to wear the dress you wore to the gala last season? You looked like Aquatica.” It was blue and fluffy with sparkles. She’d even dyed her hair to match.

She giggled. “I borrowed that dress. Maybe I’ll wear the blue dress I wore to the wedding. I could dye my hair blue again.”

“You looked nice in that dress.” I nodded, remembering how it made her look like an old-fashioned movie-star. “Do you want me to make some popcorn? My mom sent me some today.”

“Sounds great. I’m going to hop in the shower.” She gave me a kiss and left the room.

I made us popcorn and settled onto the couch while she took a shower. Sports news was still full of the trade falling through.

Gwen padded out in some flannel Knights PJ pants and a shirt that said EBUGs do it when no one else can . She flopped onto the couch, then stole the popcorn bowl off my lap.

“Tenzin says he’ll go with us.” She beamed.

Her in a pretty dress, Tenzin in a tux, a fancy dinner, and a championship ring? Sign me up.

Highlights of the Gears press conference and them signing that baby Deloitte came on, this time with commentary. They showed highlights of him skating at the prospect tournament, and lamented the lack of knowing anything about his collegiate hockey career, if he even had one. Then they engaged in lots of speculation about why no one had ever heard of him.

The whole time Gwen watched the TV intently or on her phone, frowning.

“Is everything okay?” I waved the feather wand for Snowball, who had the zoomies.

“Castle and Ty mentioned him. There’s something familiar about the way he plays. It reminds me of Austin. Maybe they played together.” She went back to her phone.

“True.” I waggled the wand again. Snowball could jump high for a kitten.

Gwen frowned at her phone. “There are zero good pictures of him online. He’s either wearing the gaiter, or sunglasses, or has his head tilted, so you can’t see it.”

“Maybe you played with him… before?” My voice grew tentative. “Do you ever run into people who know your old name?”

“Sometimes. You’re right, I probably played with him or against him at some point.” She nodded. “Just because he reminds me of Austin, doesn’t mean he is. That would be wild, right? Family business, my ass.”

Austin? She thought Bronson Deloitte could be Austin? Huh.

“Can I give Matty this address? He wants to mail me my hockey cards,” she added, changing the subject.

“You’re texting Matty? Is that good?” I asked her, not knowing if I was supposed to like her brother or not. “You can give out this address if you’re comfortable. If not, I have a post box we can send it to.”

She shrugged. “He’s one of the better ones. I’m sure they know where I live. I think I want Matty to send me a picture of my mom. Maybe a few other things.”

“We can get some frames and put your hockey cards on the wall with my comics.” I pointed to some of my most precious comics, which were framed and in the living room. They were here, so my siblings and cousins didn’t borrow them.

Gwen beamed. “I love it. I can put my mom’s picture in my room. Oooh, I have a print of Dumas’ Almost Perfect that Lenny got me for my birthday one year. Maybe Matty will send me that and I can put that in my room, too.”

“That’s a great idea.” I put my arm around her as the news continued to talk about Bronson Deloitte and all the players upset by the trade being canceled.

The Knights would be fine without whoever we were supposed to get. Anders was on the trade because he wanted to be, and it would be easy to find another forward.

“Um, I’m well aware I’m doing to you what Austin did to me. I… I’m hiding my real name, what my family does, and not using their money and letting others buy things for me.” Gwen sniffed a little. “I… I’m happy to tell you whatever you want.”

“I understand why. That’s the difference.” I wiped the tears from her eyes.

Gwen planted a kiss on my nose.

“While there aren’t many videos or things online about me anymore, here’s me figure skating. This wasn’t long before my hockey accident.” She showed me the video.

There she was, dark hair full of sparkles, her outfit filmy and white with gold and silver. She looked innocent and full of unbridled joy. This was before her mom died, before her injury, before she left home and changed her name, before that asshole obsessive alpha stole her joy.

Gabriella Capaldi, Vancouver, Canada, Beta, the caption said.

“Thank you. Though it doesn’t matter.” I gave her a kiss on the forehead and smoothed the worry from her brow.

“Movie? I want to take my mind off this,” she offered.

We watched a movie, and then she headed to bed. I showered and sat in bed with my phone. I felt guilty as I looked her up. Like she said, there were very little–some stats for ice skating and hockey, a few videos, mostly from official accounts. I guessed someone had hidden the kidnapping and trial from the media.

Her offhand comment about Austin being Bronson bugged me. I looked him up and couldn’t find any good pictures, either. I texted Dimitri and Carlos.

Me

Do you think this Bronson asshat is Austin?

Carlos

Not sure Austin’s a Deloitte.

Dimitri

Do you want me to find out?

I will.

I considered this for a moment.

Me

Not yet.

I’d just turned out the light when I heard sobbing from her room. Rolling out of bed, I stood in the doorway of her room, the door open, since Snowball liked to go back and forth between our beds.

“Gwen?” I called into the room only lit by her fairy lights.

She sat up. “Only a nightmare. I’m okay.”

The stench of fear and sadness in her room said otherwise. Only my ass. I walked over to her bed and picked her up.

“Clark.” She kicked her feet a little, but her protest wasn’t strong.

I took her back to my bed and tucked her in. “Sleep with me. It’ll be okay.”

“Okay.” She rolled into my arms, head on my chest, not fighting me.

“That’s my girl.” I planted a kiss on the top of her head and tightened my arms around her. “What do you need?”

Her lips met mine, the kisses hungry. Her breath hitched in her chest as her minty scent grew sweet with arousal.

“Does my Sweetness need to come? Or does she need to be fucked?” My voice became growly. I’d be happy to make her feel better any way she wanted. She was my world. I was her moon, ready to orbit around her and be subjected to her every whim.

“Fuck me, Alpha.” Gwen struggled to take off her clothes.

“Gladly.” I stripped bare, tossing her clothes on the floor. Holding her to me, I savored how right her naked, muscular body felt in my arms.

This. My hand ran up her back. This was everything.

My fingers trailed down her back, tracing her tattoo, then cupped her ass. She squealed as I squeezed it. So perfect. That hand curled around her body to caress her dripping pussy.

“Please,” she gasped.

As I continued to toy with her wet folds, my cock hardened, yearning to plunge into her silky depths. Her breath came out in little pants.

“I need you inside me, Tesoruccio,” she gasped.

“Always.” Rolling on top of her, I slid inside her. Her eyes went half-lidded as her sweet aroused scent wrapped around me.

Kissing her, I pumped in and out of her, gently, tenderly. This was a love letter to her body, not a race. With each thrust, I tried to fill all those little cracks in her soul, so she’d feel whole again.

She was already whole to me.

“You feel so good, Sweetness,” I told her, as I kissed her jaw, her throat.

“Yes, right there,” she gasped as my pierced cock hit just the right spot. Her hands ran up and down my back.

“There?” I teased, nibbling on her neck as I hit it again.

And again.

One day maybe I’d sink my teeth into her, marking her for everyone to see.

“Clark,” she cried, gasping as an orgasm wracked her body, making her tremble as her scent changed slightly, like it always did.

I took a deep breath, trying to stave off my release as her pussy squeezed me delightfully.

“I need your knot,” she moaned. “Please, you feel so good.”

How could I deny that?

“Always. I love being inside you. I’m going to knot you and fill you full of my cum and hold you so tight no nightmares can get through,” I assured her, capturing her lips with mine, as I thrust all the way inside her, my knot pushing past her entrance and locking.

My cum flooded her, and I kissed her again, trying to tell her with my tongue how much I loved being inside of her. It was perfect.

She was perfect for me.

“Do you feel better, Sweetness?” Locked in her, I rolled us to our sides and held her to me, reassuring her with my touch, as I kissed the top of her head.

“So much better. I love being in your arms,” she sighed.

“They’re all yours,” I assured, playing with her hair.

Her eyes closed, and her breathing slowed. By the time my knot deflated enough to slip out, she was fast asleep.

Good.

Closing my eyes, I got comfortable keeping her close. Snowball padded in and curled up with us.

I hoped Bronson wasn’t Austin. Even though I was curious as to his explanation, no reason in the world took away the fact that he hurt Gwen.

If Bronson was Austin, I was going to spend most of our home opener in the penalty box.

Oh, but I wouldn’t regret it one bit.