Page 23 of The Break Out (Denver Dragons #3)

23

I have a text from my mom once I get off the plane after landing in Denver. Part of me wants to chuck the device onto the tarmac and let a plane run it over. I know what she is going to ask, she wants me to come home for Thanksgiving. I used to, back at the beginning of my career. I’d fly back to the small town just outside of Calgary where I’m from. Canadian Thanksgiving is a different day than America’s, but since we always have the holiday off, I would go home then.

Back when I thought I could actually impress my parents by having made it. Being in the NHL. The dream I wanted more than anything.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing I did ever mattered to them after Josh was gone. I’m just the son they have left. The one they don’t care to acknowledge because once Josh was gone, he took every bit of their souls with them. And nothing I could do could help.

So, two years ago I stopped going home at all. It’s not my home anymore. My mom still tries, acting like she cares if I’m there, though I know it’s not true. Which is why the text pisses me off because I know she doesn’t care, and this year wouldn’t be any different.

And also, why I leave her on read without saying anything.

Instead of going straight home, I go to the rink to workout in the gym to rid myself of the sudden annoyance I have thinking about everything. Though I would rather take out my aggression in another way, preferably a certain blonde with the roundest ass, longest legs, and perky tits. I know that wouldn’t work out well. I have a plan to see her tomorrow and I will have her underneath me again after the game.

I hate to admit that this game is going better than the other ones this season. We’re up two going into the third period and I haven’t gotten into any fights with anyone on the Dragons. I’ve almost gotten into one against Vegas, but that was broken up before anything could escalate.

Finishing another shift on the ice, my hair is wet with sweat as I sit on the bench for a break, spraying water into my mouth and then spitting it onto the ground before repeating the action, drinking the cool liquid this time.

Vegas almost scores, but Colver is able to stop the puck before smothering it to stop the play. Coach sends me back onto the ice for the next face off. I get into position and the other defenseman starts chirping.

“You going to get into another fight with your own teammate again, Wheeler?” he asks, pushing against my shoulder a bit harder than necessary for the position we are in .

I push back. “Nah, I think the next fight I get into will be some asshole who chirps at me. And I’ll make sure to draw some blood this time.”

The puck drops, starting the play and he gets one more solid shove in before we take off. Vegas got possession of the puck so I’m having to get into a defensive position to try and snag the puck before it has a chance to get to Colver again.

I manage to snag it, skating to the opposite zone, the chirper right on my ass, smacking his stick against my legs, but then it lunges a bit too long in front of my legs and sends me flying forward as I lose my balance. The whistle blows calling the penalty, but I’m already up and getting into his face.

We’re pushed apart, and I’m sent back to the bench.

“Fucking prick,” I mumble to no one in particular.

“Solid play, Wheeler, you had that shit before he tripped you,” Collee praises before taking his place on the ice.

I’m shocked he gave me any sort of compliment. I’m sure he feels required as the captain, so I don’t take it too seriously.

We end up winning the game and the energy of the locker room is electric. Cheers about a celebration are all over.

“We’re all going out. Every one of you, call your girlfriends and wives, we’re celebrating, motherfuckers,” a forward, Jenkins, announces.

“You all have fun, you deserve it and enjoy your holiday, but you better be ready for practice first thing Saturday morning,” Collee tells everyone.

“No fucking way, Cap, you’re coming out,” Jenkins calls.

“I have a girl with a baby at home, you all enjoy.”

“Whatever, Chandler will understand, just for a little,” Jenkins tries.

“Yeah, come on,” Jones joins in.

Collee glances at McQuaid and Dumont. McQuaid nods because I can tell he wants to join the guys. Dumont looks as unsure and is already on his phone, probably already asking for permission to take his balls for a walk.

I get in the shower before I hear the rest of the convincing. After I’m done, while drying my hair with a towel, I text Brynn.

Colton: You’re coming out with the guys, Baby Collee, to celebrate our win. Then, you’re paying up on your part of the deal.

Baby Collee: Are you nuts? Is my brother going?

Colton: Doesn’t matter. You’re going to do what I say. We had a deal.

Baby Collee: I hate you.

So she says.

Keeping my distance from the rest of the team, I go right up to the bar to get a drink and watch for Brynn. She never said she would come, but I know she will. My eyes find her brother who’s watching over a couple of the guys who’re already acting a little rowdy and looking like he’s going to scold them.

Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the bar to get my drink.

“No hurricane shot again?” A familiar voice asks from next to me.

I smirk, turning toward the source. “You offering, Princess?”

“To throw a drink in your face and slap you? Gladly.”

Leaning down to her ear, “You can slap me again when I’m buried deep inside you later. I like it rough.”

Her breath hitches as I pull back and see her scowl. I know she doesn’t mean it.

“I don’t know why you wanted me to come here, this isn’t very secret when your entire team is here.”

“Or is it? You came here because of your brother, not me.” I smile.

“Hm, good point.” She turns her back to the bar, resting her elbows on it and looking out. “You know, you have a lot of hot teammates that I could go home with if I wanted.”

“Fuck that, you don’t sleep with hockey players,” I snap.

Her eyebrows shoot up as she looks at me. “I don’t? Great, then I’ll have my bed all to myself tonight. ”

She starts to walk away, but I grab her waist, turning her to face me, our bodies pressed together. Mine immediately reacting to hers.

“None of these other assholes get to touch you. And you will be coming home with me at the end of the night. So, flirt with whoever you want, tease whoever you want, do whatever you want, but it’ll be my name you’re screaming at the end of the night. Now, go see your brother, Baby Collee.” I turn her around and tap her on the ass which has her turning back to glare at me.

And instead of fighting me about what I just said she walks toward Captain, and I smirk into my beer. Yeah, she’s going to be a good little slut for just me tonight, I’ll make sure of it.