Page 11 of Puck’N Enemy (Thunder Knights #2)

My heart squeezes painfully as I get toward the end of our story.

“Dylan failed to cut off his ties with the mobster he got tangled up with,” I say, my voice turning hoarse. “That asshole wanted Dylan to keep working for him. He hated the idea of letting Dylan go.”

“Did you do anything about it?” Coach asks.

I nod. “I went to talk to Pete Volkov,” I say, remembering the horrible excuse of a human being who did his best to enslave Dylan. “I told him to let Dylan go, that he was just seventeen and had his entire life before him.”

“Did the guy agree?” Coach asks.

“He just stared at me while polishing his gun,” I say, my jaw clenching. “He wanted to intimidate me but I wasn’t scared of him. I told him to leave Dylan or I’d go to the cops.”

Coach quirks an eyebrow. “You threatened to go to the cops?”

“Yeah. I knew enough about his operations from hanging out with Dylan. If I wanted to, I could give the info to the cops to bring him down.”

Coach’s expression tightens. “That was stupid of you, Logan.”

My hands ball into tight fists. “I know. I should’ve just gone to the cops first.”

“What happened after that?” Coach asks, keeping his attention on me.

“One evening Dylan asked me to hang out with him after practice,” I say, remembering the day that would change everything between us.

“It was no big deal, so I agreed. He took me to the canal that runs through the town’s east end and before I knew it, we were surrounded by a dozen guys. They were all Pete’s men.”

Pain and anguish throbs through me, reminding me of the greatest betrayal of my life.

“Dylan attacked me before I could figure out what was happening,” I say as tears prick my eyes. “He unleashed his inner demon on me and hit me hard enough to crack my ribs. But that didn’t stop him. When he had me on the ground, he kicked me until I passed out.”

A single tear slides down my cheek. “The men surrounding us didn’t even have to lift a finger.

Dylan was enough to break me that day.” I meet Coach’s gaze as my heart squeezes painfully.

“He betrayed me that night. The way he hurt me could’ve taken away my chance of playing hockey again.

I could’ve lost the only thing that gave any meaning to my life. I wished he’d just killed me.”

“Did Pete come after you again?” Coach asks.

I shake my head. “He didn’t have a reason to anymore, I guess,” I say in a ragged voice. “Dylan ran away that night. I was found by some dog walkers along the canal and they called emergency services to get me. By the time I woke up, I was hooked to an IV and lying broken in a hospital bed.”

Silence falls over us as both Coach and I stare at each other.

“You remember the state I was in, don’t you?” I slowly ask. “You remember how scared I felt when the doctor said I couldn’t play hockey until my injuries healed. I thought I’d never step on the ice again.”

Coach nods again, his gaze dimming.

“It took me a few days to feel alive enough to look for Dylan and ask him why he betrayed me like that,” I say as my past frustrations peak again. “How could he hurt me like that for an asshole like Pete, who only wanted to use him? Did I mean nothing to him? Did he never love me at all?”

“Calm down, Logan,” Coach says in a hoarse voice. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment.”

“That’s why I’m here,” I say angrily. “You promised to tell me what you know. Just tell me why Dylan came back. And why did he run in the first place? Was he scared I’d sue him or something?”

“Go and switch off the stove,” Coach says.

“Huh?”

“Go into the kitchen,” he says, gesturing toward a hallway. “The soup’s nearly done.”

“Uhh...okay.” I head in the direction he points at and enter the small but neat kitchen.

I switch off the flame and look around. There’s no way someone as sick and weak as Coach Becker could keep the place in such good shape.

Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of the life Dylan is living.

He might’ve betrayed me but he’s been doing a good job keeping our old coach fed and looked after. A sigh escapes me as I feel my anger drain away.

I go back to the living room and take my place on the couch.

“Are you feeling all right?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“So, tell me already,” I say, letting him see my desperation. “Where was Dylan during this whole time?”

“Dylan didn’t betray you,” Coach says slowly. “He saved your life back then.”

“What?” I gasp, feeling a surge of anger. “You were there back then. You saw what he did to me!”

Coach has another coughing fit, forcing me to rein in my rage.

He sips water from a bottle by his side. When he’s finally better, he looks at me calmly.

“Dylan got involved with a criminal like Pete because he wanted to help you,” Coach says slowly. “He became a drug peddler to get the money to help you and your family. I’m not supporting his ways but the kid had his heart in the right place.”

I stay quiet, remembering the times he’d slip me thick wads of cash.

“I delivered pizzas to some guys today and they gave me a fat tip,” Dylan’s words ring in my mind.

Initially, I didn’t want to take his money but he forced me to take it.

“Take the money or I’ll feel like an outsider,” Dylan would say to me. “I won’t believe you love me if you don’t take the money.”

He’d dig into my emotions, the ones who wanted to chain Dylan to my side.

At the same time, my mom was constantly harassed by the loan shark and his awful partners. I’d find her crying and worrying about me and my sister.

The little money I made from working part-time jobs was never enough to pay the installments. So, I took the money Dylan gave me.

“Is that how he got involved with Pete?” I slowly ask.

Coach nods.

“Even a son-of-a-bitch like Pete Volkov could see Dylan was loyal and hardworking,” Coach Becker says with a grim look on his face. “He wanted Dylan to become his right-hand man and work for him.”

“It still doesn’t change anything, though. Dylan chose to side with him and hurt me.”

Coach shakes his head. “Pete threatened to kill you if Dylan didn’t make a clean break with you. The asshole didn’t like someone else having a claim on him.”

I’m reminded of the dark emotions swirling in Pete’s eyes the day I met him. He’d been possessive of Dylan and hated it when I showed up to threaten him.

“Did he want Dylan in the same way I wanted him?”

“Maybe,” Coach says, his eyes looking into mine.

“But that’s not the most important thing.

Dylan didn’t have a choice back then. He was made to feel that as long as he stayed with you, you wouldn’t be safe.

So, he did things the way he thought would fix everything.

He cornered you and beat you up, ensuring you’d see the act as betrayal. ”

“Why didn’t he explain this stuff to me?” I say, feeling a chill spread through me.

“Dylan didn’t think he deserved you,” Coach says in a low voice.

“That’s bullshit!”

“You need to put yourself in his shoes, Logan,” Coach says calmly.

“He grew up in foster homes. He never had a family or any friends who stayed by his side. You’re the only one who made him feel the warmth of a constant friend.

He loved you and when that kid loves, he’s willing to go all the way for you.

Just look at me.” He gestures at himself.

“It’d be so much easier on him if he stayed on campus, but he’s here, making sure I’m okay. ”

I go silent.

The guy Coach just described was the Dylan I knew.

He was hard and sharp around the edges, impossible to get through, but once you got past that, he was the best friend and lover you could ask for.

No matter how betrayed I felt, I could never make sense of Dylan’s actions.

The pieces of the puzzle are slowly falling into place, giving me a full view of what happened all those years ago.

“Did Dylan run to escape Pete?” I ask after a while.

“Yes,” Coach affirms my guess. “He didn’t want to be used by that asshole again.”

“Pete was arrested back then,” I say. “I remember seeing the news on TV. Dylan could’ve stayed back and explained everything to me. I’d have understood his reasons and forgiven him. He didn’t have to leave!”

“Dylan couldn’t face you after hurting you like that,” Coach says with a sigh. “He was also unsure how long Pete would be locked up. So, he came to me and asked for help.”

“You helped him leave?” I ask, staring at the man before me. “Why didn’t you tell me this stuff before? I kept asking you whether you knew what happened to Dylan!”

“Dylan didn’t want you to know,” Coach says, his expression turning stern. “He wanted you to focus on your training and academics and make something of yourself.”

“But, Coach—”

“Dylan needed to get out of here, or he could’ve gotten involved with one of Pete’s men,” Coach says, cutting off my heated retort. “It’s not easy to leave a criminal network, especially one being controlled by someone powerful like Pete.”

A painful lump forms in my throat.

Dylan had been going through so much shit and he was all alone.

He’d been there for me and got me through the darkest period of my life but when he needed me, I wasn’t there for him. I let him be alone and deal with everything on his own.

He got into the mess with Pete because he wanted to help me and my family.

“Dylan’s so stupid!” I blurt out, feeling all my rage turning into anguish.

“Dylan couldn’t risk telling you the truth,” Coach continues. “Pete’s men could’ve been watching you. If they found out you two were together, they could’ve come after you again.”

“So, what? He just left?”

Coach nods.

“Do you know where he went?” I ask, feeling my desperation rise. “What has he been up to these years?”

“Dylan was still seventeen at the time, so I let my brother take him in as a foster,” Coach says, a faint smile coming over his lined face. “John is a hockey coach too. He smelled talent and agreed to take Dylan in.”

“Where does John live?”

“Florida,” Coach says.

Speechless, I stare at him.

“You sent Dylan that far away?” I ask.

“It was for the best,” Coach says. “He was safe there. It allowed him to focus on his training and get into college with a sports scholarship. I wish he had stayed there and hadn’t transferred to Silverlake University.”

A worried, sorrowful look comes over Coach.

“What do you mean by he was safe in Florida?” I ask, detecting a hint of regret in his face. “Isn’t Dylan safe here?”

Coach shakes his head. “I thought he’d be safe after all these years, but he’s not.

” His bony shoulders slump and I finally realize how tired he looks.

“I wish the kid didn’t care so much. I wish he didn’t walk around wearing his heart on his sleeve.

I wish he’d stayed away and not come back for me. ”

“Why do you say that, Coach?” I ask, feeling anxious. “Why isn’t Dylan safe here? Is someone from Pete’s gang after him?”

“It’s not just some gang member,” Coach says, looking directly into my eyes. “It’s Pete. He got out of jail.”

“Did he hurt Dylan?” The very thought sends a surge of rage through my body. I won’t let that son-of-a-bitch harm Dylan again. I’ll die before I let him touch Dylan again!

“Not yet,” Coach says, rubbing his knees. With a groan, he pushes himself to his feet and walks toward the kitchen.

I follow him, entering the small space that’s filled with the aroma of herbs and spices. He walks toward the drawers under the counters and opens one of them. Shuffling through some papers, he brings out a flat white envelope.

“Take a look at this,” he says, handing me the large envelope.

I flip it over but don’t find a return address on it. The top is torn, so I tip over the contents on the counter.

A stack of photos falls out of it.

“What are these?” I mutter, picking one up.

It’s a black-and-white shot of Dylan in a hockey arena. He’s surrounded by his teammates and has a candid grin on his face. His strands are damp and sweaty but his eyes are alive with excitement.

He looks so damn beautiful , my mind whispers as I stare at the photograph.

“Stop gawking at him,” Coach’s annoyed voice sounds next to me. “Check the rest of the photos.”

“Right,” I mutter, breaking out of my trance.

They’re all shots of Dylan going about his day. A few are from his part-time job at the food court, while the rest are taken on Silverlake’s campus.

At the end, I come across a sheet of paper with a note.

WELCOME TO TOWN, DYLAN.

The words are written in a jagged, untidy hand.

“Dylan hid this stuff under all these fliers,” Coach says with a scoff. “He thought I wouldn’t notice.”

“Are you sure it’s from Pete?” I ask, glancing at him.

“Who else would threaten Dylan?” Coach says, meeting my gaze. “I’d hoped he’d let Dylan go but it looks like his obsession with him runs deep. He wants Dylan back at his side. This is just his way of telling Dylan that he’s keeping an eye on him.”

My hand crushes the note. “I won’t let him touch Dylan again,” I vow.

“What can you do about it?” Coach asks me. “Are you willing to give up on the sweet life you’ve created to go back to the past?”

“I wouldn’t have this life if it hadn’t been for Dylan,” I say, tasting bitter grief on my tongue. “He sacrificed himself so I could be happy. I won’t let him act stupid again. I’ll make sure I pay him back, or I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Coach has another coughing fit and has to grab the counter to stay steady on his feet.

I help him by rubbing his back until the spell passes. “Let me get you some water,” I say, picking a clean glass from one of the shelves.

“Don’t bother,” Coach says, grabbing my wrist with surprising strength. “I need you to make a choice. A decision. You know the truth now, so you don’t have to spend the rest of your life hating Dylan. But that doesn’t mean you have to feel like you owe him.”

“But I do owe him, Coach. I owe him more than I can repay in this lifetime. He didn’t just protect me. He saved my family, too.”

“Then, protect him,” Coach says, sagging against the counter. “I’m far too weak to do anything for him anymore.”

“Don’t worry about him,” I say, making up my mind. “Dylan won’t be alone this time. No matter what happens, I won’t let anyone hurt.”