Page 22 of UnWholly Angels (Crestview Cardinals #1)
Chapter Eleven
Riley
H ow does the saying go again? Oh, right. Wake up, eat, and go to work, and that's exactly what I will do.
Rolling over, woken up by the constant scream of my alarm, I attempted to roll over, but found my arm numb and tingling, trapped between the bed and a body, Maya’s body.
Her breaths were shallow, and her hair splayed out across the pillow.
I couldn’t believe I’d admitted the dark still bothered me.
It felt minuscule to all the baggage she carried.
At the time though, I just needed her to feel safe.
I never meant to hurt her, but I let my anger get the best of me.
She was far from sloppy seconds. She should have let Rocco come after me, so I could’ve bashed his face in and ended this a long time ago, for her.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, probably messages or notifications I didn’t care too much about right now.
Despite the growing need to pull my arm away and regain feeling, I wouldn’t disturb her.
Instead, my eyes scanned the room, landing on the picture of us that sat on the nightstand.
It was always there, but out of sight. I never had the heart to erase her from my life, no matter how angry I was with her.
We were happy once, and maybe in time, we could have that again, but it would take time.
What the…how’d that happen?
Throwing a dirty look at the inanimate object, I noticed the crack that ran down the glass of the once perfect picture.
I was only angry for a moment as I studied the picture once more and chuckled to myself.
It sort of fit; that was what Maya and I were right about now, cracked and broken.
The truth was we were both completely different people now, and I was going to show her how to spread her wings, defend herself, and fight back.
Maya would need to be broken by me, broken in a way that would allow me to help her build a life she wanted, to show her that sex could be safe, pleasurable, and consensual.
That was how I would prove she was more than how I’d treated her last night.
Once the words had left my mouth, I wanted to desperately shove them back in, watching a perfectly placed crack in her facade show.
Last night, she’d asked for King as if he was a different person, and I was starting to think that might be true, someone created to protect Riley in a time when nobody else would.
That mask was an extension of my persona.
When I took the mask off, I didn’t have to answer for the sins I’d committed while wearing it.
As far as anyone was concerned, Riley wouldn’t know a thing.
Slowly, I removed my arm from under her, rolling over and dropping my feet to the floor.
I took extra care when making my way to the dresser to get ready for the day with one exceptional change: I’d make her breakfast. It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was a start.
Pen and paper sat atop my dresser, and I got to work on the note, hoping she would read it, even if my handwriting was sloppy and rushed.
The array of food hadn’t taken long to cook, and I was almost jealous that I wouldn’t be sharing the deliciously smelling bacon, eggs, and pancakes.
Grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, I kicked it shut behind me and poured it into the glass cup.
One singular beat to my chest signaled I was doing this, and I had to push down the sentimental value that something as small as breakfast had.
I was excited to be cooking for someone else, and Maya no less, something I’d only ever wished I could do.
Carefully making my way up the stairs and into the bedroom, I smiled, the sweet aroma of her perfume encapsulating the air around me as I set the tray of breakfast next to the bed and placed my credit card on top of the note with a sigh.
The familiar scent of rose embedded itself in my brain, poking away at my memory.
My lip twitched into a smile, and I leaned down to place a small kiss on her forehead.
She stirred, her hair fanning along her shoulder, and I clenched my jaw, pulling her blanket higher.
I’d waited this long to touch her, what was a little while more time?
My phone exploded with messages, and I couldn’t be late again.
When in reality, all I wanted to do was lie in bed all day and hold her close.
Ripping myself away from her sleeping form, I headed to practice, which for the first time in a long time, was the last place I wanted to be.
Shutting the car door and heading toward the arena, I popped in my headphones and scrolled through my playlist, letting the gentle music play softly in my ear.
My shoulders deflated, and my tongue released from the roof of my mouth in relaxation.
The mingled aroma of the fresh ice and popcorn lightened my mood instantly.
Normally, I never entered the arena this way, but it was only practice, and I had about five minutes to get to the locker room. This was the fastest way right now.
There was so much on my mind. Anyone would go with the flow to avoid conflict, and lately, I’d seemed to be a magnet for it.
I was trying to do better, become a better man.
Every time I did though, shit piled up on top of me, and I found myself drowning.
Running my fingers through my hair, I pulled at it slightly, a nasty habit I’d developed over the years.
I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was going and found myself bumping shoulders with one of the cleaners.
“Sorry about that,” I mumbled as I continued to walk, and just under the hum of the music, I swore I heard the slightest whistle as he rolled past me with a smile.
I couldn’t help but stare for a moment, my stomach flipping in suspicion as I peered over my shoulder once more.
Being watched was always on my mind, always looking over my shoulder; this wasn’t a way for anyone to live.
I’d never tell anyone, though; it was easy enough to handle.
However, it was hard to tell if it was Rocco or just a fan who wanted a picture or an autograph.
Never would I want to lose support over mistaken identity, and Rocco knew that.
I turned my cap around and entered the locker room.
Most of the team was here and goofing off as usual, throwing around laces or shoving each other around.
The room went quiet as I approached, and my bag found its way to the lacquered bench as I cleared my throat.
That slight mishap with the janitor had me spinning, and I couldn’t tell if they were quiet from my late entrance, or if it was just my mind playing tricks on me, as it had been doing since the encounter.
Five minutes or five seconds didn’t matter; I knew that fucking whistle.
It kept replaying over and over in my head, and I gritted my teeth trying to will it away.
My eyes scanned the room, sizing up each player, so I could figure out where we needed to tighten up and praise those who were doing well when allotted.
Even I had to work on my speed and puck control near the net.
Locking eyes with Nick, we just stared each other down, disapproval etched across his face.
At one point last night, before we fell asleep, I heard Maya on the phone with Chloe.
By the look on his face, she told him everything that happened and everything I had said to Maya.
Fixing his attention back to the floor, he ignored me, giving a shake of his head before continuing to lace up his skate.
Guess I was in the doghouse on multiple fronts.
I’d let him know the rest after practice, so he knew I wasn’t a complete fucking asshole.
Fuck.
Coach pulled me out of the trance and called out to the team, giving his normal semi-motivational speech about doing our best and really focusing on our weak spots before we hit the ice. The frigid air that surrounded the ice suppressed my need to be anywhere but here for the time being.
“You think I can get one past you, man?” I called out to Gutierrez.
“No vale, cabrón,” he teased before kissing the crossbar and placing the helmet over his face.
“Just get in the net and let me play with you a bit.” Javi could light up a whole room with his banter and make me completely forget about everything that transpired over the last couple of days.
He might be playful, but he was also the epitome of 'if you touch my woman, I’ll cut your arm clean off' and got squeamish when his girlfriend recorded her true crime podcasts.
He blocked shot after shot, only allowing in about six of the seventeen I had shot, and we both needed a break.
“Great job,” I encouraged as I skated over to him for a fist, well, glove bump rather. “Don’t forget about your hot date with the net tonight, it’s probably the most action you’ve gotten in a while, huh?”
He just shook his head, laughing as I skated off to the players’ bench, grabbing the bottle labeled with my name.
As the water squirted into my mouth, I was able to clear my head.
Shot after shot today I’d started planning my future in hockey, my future with Maya, and how to end this for her.
Lacing up these skates and passing around the puck with the guys took my mind off things, even if it was for a short amount of time, until that janitor crossed my line of sight again, and I froze, goosebumps forming on every possible part of my body.
This man was sitting in one of the seats, just behind the players’ benches, watching me with one foot propped up on the seat in front of him.
His cap was covering his right eye, and his face was hidden.
The tune he whistled was familiar; one I’d heard way too often in my youth.
The world halted to an abrupt stop when he lifted the hat over his eye and stared straight at me.