Page 53 of My Pucking Crush

Luca

A week later, the Crushers are up 3 to 0 in this round, and my asshole is sore from Max fucking me like a warrior each night. He’s high on adrenaline.

He won the final championship before. Some people check off a goal and then move on. I don’t want to call Max greedy for wanting this again so badly, but his drive is near animalistic.

I watch his brutal morning skate routine, then he pumps iron in the weight room. We don’t discuss plans more than a day out. Max is living in twelve-hour increments. I’ve turned into a robot, too. Only stopping to eat, shower, and get fucked by Max.

I wonder if the way he craves me is to get his fill because it can all go up in flames at any moment. He knows I’m leaving the team. But what are his plans?

Game Four in Richmond goes as usual as far as prep. In the practice arena after Richmond’s morning skate, I’m called to a conference room by Bronwin. My heart always jolts, thinking one of his other security guys figured out Max and I are fucking. Or that Belova twice sent someone to hurt Max.

Stepping inside an office filled with the other agents tightens my chest.

“Sheppard,” Bronwin acknowledges me and calls me over to a table with a laptop. “This guy, right here.” He shows me photographs on the screen. “He’s been at every game this round so far.”

“A rabid fan?” I offer.

“Who traveled from Richmond to Stamford and shows up at games that cost thousands of dollars. In a suit?” Bronwin argues.

“Did you check to see if he’s the dad of a Richmond player?” I ask.

“He’s not.” My boss shakes his head. “We cross-matched everyone. Players have season tickets for family. They sit in the same seats. We went back to all their home games and identified people who are here for Richmond families.”

“An agent of theirs?” another guard suggests.

“No.” Bronwin keeps shaking his head as we offer up ideas.

“Did you do facial recognition?” I ask.

“The shades are messing up the software.” The lines of frustration in Bronwin’s face make him look older. This is all on him if Max gets hurt due to a security failure in the stadium.

“And he’s not on Richmond’s security team?” I finally offer even though that should have been the first guess.

Bronwin snaps up. “Sitting in a seat?”

“A backup?” I’m annoyed that I can’t ID this guy either, but my job has been to protect Max. Not do intel at the same time. That’s their job. Hunting down these leads.

They’ve known about this guy for a week and are only telling me about him now? I feel betrayed. Looking at Bronwin for any sign he’s been compromised from Belova, I come up empty and relax.

“Trinity.” Bronwin looks at our tech guy. “Match this guy if you can to Richmond security.”

“Will do.” Trinity takes the printed photo and gets on his own equipment he travels with.

Being in this arena creeps me out. While he’s busy, I give Bronwin updates that bore the hell out of him. Telling him about the guy with the knife I killed would give him a heart attack.

If I know Belova, he thinks the ghost mercenary disappeared because he failed. Or maybe Ivan knows I killed him.

“Contractor,” Trinity pipes up. “Outsourced security.”

Bronwin shakes his head. “You called it, Sheppard.”

“Who is he protecting?” I ask Trinity. “He’s sitting in the stands like a fan.”

“I hacked the guy’s phone. He’s a hired guard for Quinn’s family.”

“His parents?” I ask.

Trinity shakes his head. “Wife and kids.”

Jake Quinn has a wife and kids? Did I know this? Did Max tell me the guy got married?

“Why would Belova hire a bodyguard for a third shift right winger he’s called up from the minors?” I pace around the room like a caged tiger.

“I didn’t say Belova hired him,” Trinity deadpans. “Jake Quinn hired him.”

We all stop and it’s like we got hit in the face with a stick.

I look again. In front of Jake’s hired guard, sits a stunning blonde woman in a Richmond jersey and four kids, also blonde. Two to the right, two to the left. The guy who sucked Max’s dick freshman year of high school is...straight? Turned straight? In the closet? Bitter?

We’ve been in this stifling, sorry excuse for a visiting team office, and the game is about to start. Other guards leave to watch the players do their pregame meeting with the coach. When Bronwin and I are alone, I yank him by the tie.

“Quinn is being paid to hurt Max. Belova threatened him with something. ” I wonder if Belova knows Jake and Max have history and threatened to expose him .

Fuck... That’s it!

With the photo in hand, I yank the door open and run for the tunnel, but Max is gone. He’s on the ice. And he’s a target.

Bronwin comes up behind me, breathing heavily from chasing my ass.

I grab him by the jacket. “Tell Beck to pull Max.”

“He’ll never pull his starting defensemen when we’re up 3-0 and we can clinch this playoff round tonight and sweep the series.”

“Then we need to warn him,” I say.

“Warn him of what? A winger who wants to attack him? Hurt him? Check him into the boards? That’s what wingers do.”

“Could he have a weapon on him?” I ask, thinking how desperate could a team get to avoid elimination.

“No.” Bronwin would know, he’s a former player and knows the uniform.

“We have to stop the game,” I say, running a hand through my hair.

Silence rings out.

“It’s a playoff game.” Bronwin takes out his phone. “It’s being televised. They won’t stop it.”

“It’s a security matter,” I bark.

“Your hunches are valid. But we don’t know for sure,” Bronwin argues and stares at me.

“So we wait for him to get hurt?” My voice cracks.

Bronwin tilts his head like he sees through me. “Are you fucking him?”

My body goes rigid. He knows I’m gay.

“Fucking who?” I ask.

His jaw tightens. “Are you kidding?”

“It doesn’t...” I don’t know how to finish that. It doesn’t mean anything crosses my mind. Now I’d be as bad as Max. “It has nothing to do with anything. ”

“You’re being irrational. You’re putting him in more danger.”

“He’s alive right now because of me.” My voice turns as sharp as a blade. “And no, I won’t elaborate.”

Bronwin steps back and gives me a chilling stare. “That private security work on your resume...”

“I know what I’m doing.” I straighten my tie and hold my head high. “I have to go protect my client.”

And make sure he leaves this building alive...