Page 44 of The Break Out (Denver Dragons #3)

44

W e got back to Denver last night and I used to love to come home to my quiet empty house, but as soon as I walked in, the silence was too loud and I was missing something. No, someone.

I still haven’t heard from Brynn and I’m thinking I never will. Part of why I got in that fight against the asshole from the Spartans was in hopes that she was watching and would reach out afterwards.

That, and the fact that he was chirping so much I wanted to see if he could back up his shit talk. Turns out he couldn’t.

After sitting in my house for all of an hour, the quiet becomes too much. I grab the keys to my bike and take off on a drive around the city just to fucking feel something.

It’s when I saw the lights from a tattoo shop that I make a split second decision. I don’t give a shit if anyone thinks I’ll regret it. I don’t give a flying fuck if Brynn never talks to me again, she’s carved her place in my heart so might as well ink a piece of her on my skin.

“You sure about this one, man?” the artist asks after placing the stencil.

“Fuck yeah I am.”

The next morning, I get to practice, completely exhausted because after I finally got home I still couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned until the sun came up. Now here I am, changing into my gear, carefully pulling on my pads over my new ink. It’s covered with a thin piece of Saniderm, but I’ve gotten enough tattoos and played hockey the next day that shit rubbing against them can be a bitch.

Out on the ice I throw myself into the drills, using this as a distraction before I have to go home to my empty house once again.

I grow increasingly agitated at every minor thing I’m yelled at by Coach. I’m fucking tired and miserable enough, I get that I’m not my best right now. But my last straw is when Collee snaps at me to pull my shit together.

Fuck it. I have nothing else left to lose.

“Say shit to me again, Collee, I didn’t fucking hear you,” I snap, already ready to toss my gloves across the goddamn ice.

“Practice like you actually want to be here,” he barks.

And that’s fucking it .

“I don’t want to be here; I want to be in bed with your sister. I can still hear her screaming my name.”

He’s grabbing my practice jersey within a second, with his fist flying into my face. I hardly feel the pain because it feels good to feel something in this moment. And it feels even better to finally see the “perfect” Captain lose his shit.

“You motherfucker,” he seethes with another punch to my jaw.

“No, just your sister.” I can’t help myself and it earns me another hit, my lip splitting open once again, but I want the pain. I want to keep pissing him off.

I’m gripping his jersey to keep him from tackling me onto the ice, but my own attempts at blows don’t land as hard as his with the way he blocks them.

“You fucking hurt her; I’m going to kill you.” He punches me again and that time I think blood sprays onto the ice.

There’s chaos going on around us with the rest of our team and coaches as they try to get us to stop, but Collee isn’t letting up, and I don’t want him to.

“Don’t worry, she loves everything I do to her,” I smile a bloody smile at him right as another punch rattles my brain.

A loud whistle echoes all around us, but we don’t stop. I try to land another hit on him, I feel my fist connect with his jaw, but not as hard as I intended. We’re finally pulled apart by our teammates. I don’t even fight them, but with Dumont and McQuaid holding Collee back I can see him struggle to try and come at me again.

“I fucking knew you couldn’t help yourself. You’re a piece of shit and have been since you stepped foot in this city. You wanted to piss everyone off and only make enemies. Is that why Brynn has been so fucking depressed? Because you took advantage of her and then left her? Congratulations, how does it fucking feel to be the shittiest person possible?” He doesn’t let up and his words feel worse than his punches.

Thinking about Brynn being depressed and in pain is a different type of hit. This one feels more like a stab right in the gut. So does his accusation that I’m the reason for it.

“Fuck you, Collee, she ended it with me. I would never fucking hurt her, but I know you want to make me out to be the enemy so go ahead. Fight me some more. Do whatever the fuck you want because without her I don’t give a shit anymore.” I shake off Mann and Jones holding me back.

“Wheeler, Collee, get the fuck into the locker room!” Coach screams and I’m already skating that direction anyway.

As I pass him, I can’t help but try to put the final nail in my own coffin. “Might as well call the GM to get rid of me now.”

Despite the physical pain in my face and the blood in my mouth I spit out, all I can think about is Brynn feeling half as shitty as I have since I left. And I don’t care about what might be about to happen with my career, my team, anything. I just want to somehow know that she’s okay.

But I worry that seeing me will only make it worse and the best thing for me is to leave.