Page 22 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

Marcus

Practice was brutal. The training for an upcoming game had sent Coach Williams into hard-ass mode, which was even worse than his usual tight-ass mode. It didn’t help that I’d barely had any sleep last night and fucked myself into a zombie. I was the walking dead today, but I had zero regrets.

“Fuck, I think he might be actually trying to kill us,” Beckett complained as he pulled off his cage and gulped down some water.

“Yeah, well, when we meet the Raptors, we need to be on top of our game. They don’t mess around,” Asher murmured.

Cayden was quiet, brooding like usual, rubbing a hand across his lips and staring out over the ice at the rest of the team.

“Did you know that Chase and Tyler might transfer?” he asked.

I followed his gaze to the two players in question. They were both good, damn good, and neither was getting a chance to shine on the Hellions, with the Ice Gods in charge. I shrugged.

“So? We don’t need them.”

Cayden shrugged too. “Sure we don’t, but the question is… who is going to replace them?”

Beckett sprayed water across his face. As a defenseman, he’d taken a lot of hits and practiced a lot of blocks tonight. He would be black and blue under his padding, but not to worry, he had a pretty girlfriend to kiss it better.

“Embrace the change, my friend. It’s not an enemy,” he said.

“Right, change is good,” Cayden said slowly, “but I heard Coach talking about some big shots… someone with a VIP dad.”

Beckett raised an eyebrow. “I’ll find out about it. Coach will tell me.”

I chuckled. “Because you paid for all the new gear?”

“And the new sauna, don’t forget that.” Beckett winked.

I smiled. I would hate the spoiled bastard if he wasn’t such a good friend.

“New blood means different energy,” Asher said from the stand behind me, where he was sitting and studying the Raptors’ previous games on his phone, to prepare for when we met them.

“We bring the energy, we make the energy. We are the Hellions,” I reminded my friends.

“Damn straight. Now, I need to get in the hot tub. I’m sore like a motherfucker.” Beck sighed. “You guys coming?”

Cayden and Asher agreed as I shook my head.

“I’ve got somewhere to be. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

After I picked up Ari, I had to talk to Cole, even though I knew what he wanted to talk about and dreaded the conversation. My father’s fucking parole and how I could be of use to his appeal. How I could be of use.

I wouldn’t miss hanging at the dorms; after a while, it was all so predictable and dull.

But I wasn’t looking forward to speaking with Cole at The Clutch either.

Lately, the only thing to look forward to was terrorizing my little distraction.

My birthday girl. When I was with her, the noise quieted.

She kept trying to get away… not realizing that the cat had her by the tail. She could wriggle and squirm, but I wasn’t lifting my paw.

I had her right where I wanted her… the woman who was done with me after one night. The woman who didn’t simper or flirt or bat her fucking eyelashes.

Yes, I had her tail in my grip, and I wasn’t letting go… But like any good cat knows, playing with the prey is much more fun than simply eating them.

I blasted through the doors of The Clutch and immediately saw my brother sitting at the bar.

Ari had stood me up, which was predictable, but irritating, nonetheless.

Now, I had nothing but the conversation with Cole to look forward to.

Yippee. I almost hoped that he wanted to talk to me about my dad some more.

The alternative was club business, and that felt even more dangerous.

Lately, he’d been getting worked up about some kind of MC business involving a new revenue stream for the Hounds.

Arms. I didn’t want to have anything to do with it.

I wanted to survive college, play hockey, and get drafted.

It was all I cared about. Cole couldn’t seem to get it through his thick skull that not everyone dreamed of living the MC life.

As it was, now and then, he had me delivering bags of questionable contents or picking them up when I traveled for away games.

It was fucking dangerous, being that my hockey career would be the first thing to disappear if I got caught with anything illegal, but that didn’t stop my brother.

For him, I was a messenger with plausible deniability.

“What is it this time?” I asked curtly.

He lowered his beer bottle from his mouth and gave me a sidelong glance. “What’s wrong? Got a book report to write?” His mouth curled up in a mocking sneer.

“Yeah, maybe I do, and an apple to shine for my teacher, so make it quick.”

He set down his beer on the bar top. “I’m going to see Dad tomorrow. He wants you to come.”

I was relieved and pissed off at the same time. “Pass. I have a game tomorrow, an important one.”

“I’m sure Coach Williams can find a sub for you.”

I let out a bitter chuckle. “You would think that. Believe it or not, I’m actually good at playing, and the team would miss me.”

“They’d survive,” Cole muttered.

“Yeah, well, so will Dad without seeing me, unfortunately.”

Cole frowned at me. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“The real question is why don’t you? He ruined your life, Cole, and he’s trying to ruin mine.”

“Ruined my life?” Cole tsked. “And what great and exciting life do you think I was going to live if I hadn’t stepped in to take over the Hounds? Be a farmer? A fisherman? Maybe work at the gift shop on Main Street?”

“Yeah, well, maybe any of them would have been better than being like him.”

My older brother sighed, his tattooed hands flexing on the counter. He was a big guy, just like me, but a hell of a lot more intimidating. Cole had the energy of a man with nothing to lose, and that was always dangerous.

“I’m like him, whether I do what he does or not. It’s in my blood, Marcus. Bailey blood.”

“No, it’s not Bailey blood. I don’t feel that way.”

Cole nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Your blood is all mom… and she never wanted a fucking thing to do with us—her family—either, so that tracks.” He scrubbed a hand over his face before continuing.

“The only chance Dad has of winning his appeal for early parole is to lean on the family man angle. He’s missing out on his youngest son’s vital years, denying him a father figure?—”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that left me. “I’m sorry, what?

Who wants a felon as a father figure? And since when has that man ever given a shit about me, what I was doing, how I was…

if I lived or died? Never. Only now, when he needs something from me.

He’s a user, Cole, and he’ll use both of us up if we let him. ”

Cole stared at me. So much sat unsaid between us.

Yes, Dad had gone to jail, and yes, I’d been put into a group home.

Maybe if Cole hadn’t had to get me out and take responsibility for me, he could have left Hade Harbor and escaped the Bailey legacy.

He could have started over and been his own man…

but he’d never even considered it. He’d been there for me, visiting every day, working on getting custody, providing, manning up, when he’d been little more than a teen himself.

The truth was that Dad’s legacy had set Cole on the path he was on now, but I’d kept him on it.

It was a heavy burden across my shoulders. A debt I could never repay.

Cole seemed to decide to drop it, for now. I knew he’d return to it eventually. He jerked his head to a table in the corner.

“Go tell Cash congratulations. His old lady finally popped, and it’s a girl.”

I nodded and backed away from my brother and the explosive things we didn’t want to feel boiling under the surface. It was all my dad’s fault. My brother and I had our rhythms, and we coped fine. Dad trying to get out was fucking it all up.

I stopped and turned back.

“If he gets out early, will you quit?”

The question seemed to freeze my brother. His huge shoulders tensed, and his eyes narrowed.

“If I help him get out early, if he’s here, with us… will you hang up your cut and do something with your life that you actually want to for once?”

Cole rubbed his thumb back and forth across his lower lip. “It’s not that easy, Marcus. Some things cannot be undone. Some people are too far gone.”

Then he turned his back on me. Pain, like the feeling of saving a goal only for the other team’s forward to crash into you regardless, hit me in the chest.

Yep, that hurt like a motherfucker.

Giving my brother his space, I grabbed a couple of beers from behind the bar and made my way to the table where Cash and his old lady were sitting, their new little bundle of joy sound asleep in a baby wrap.

A tiny baby, dressed in a pink onesie, cradled against a huge biker’s barrel chest, was quite the sight to see.

“Congratulations to you both,” I said and sat in an empty seat, setting the beers in front of them.

Misty, Cash’s wife, said, “I can’t drink, I’m breastfeeding.”

“And I’m not drinking out of solidarity,” Cash said and smiled down at his sleeping daughter.

Something twinged deep inside at that sight. He was going to be a great fucking dad. His kid was lucky.

I took a swig from one of the bottles of beer. “More for me, then.”

“Big game tomorrow?” Cash asked after a moment.

I nodded. The Harbor Hounds might be bikers, but this was Hade Harbor, and hockey ran in our blood.

“What’s Williams’ plan?” Cash prompted.

We relaxed into casual hockey talk. I barely noticed the door opening until Misty whistled loudly to attract someone’s attention.

“Well, as exciting as all this hockey talk is, I’m leaving you two to childcare duties. My friend is here for her birthday, and I’m going to make sure she has a good time. Looks like she brought some eye candy, too.”

Misty wriggled her eyebrows, and Cash growled, landing a playful smack on his missus’ behind as she walked away.

“How’s she been doing since the birth?” I asked Cash.

He nodded. “She’s all right, though it takes a goddamn fucking toll.

I tell you, if I could have been the one bleeding and screaming, I’d have done it…

but I couldn’t have managed it like she did.

She’s a fucking warrior.” He grunted and tracked a thick, calloused finger over the downy hair on the baby’s head.

“Women… they might be small, but they are mighty.”

“Amen to that,” I said and turned to see where Misty had gone off to.

I saw the English Lit professor first, the asshole who thought he was God’s gift to HHU, then I took in Sally, one of the admins. Sally moved forward to hug Misty, and that’s when I spied her.

My birthday girl.

She was hanging back, and another professor, biology, I thought, was talking to her. She had her arms clamped over her midsection and her face tilted toward the floor, hair loose and hanging like a curtain around her face, as if that might hide her identity.

In a pencil skirt that hugged her curves and a boxy jacket I knew she’d soon have to lose in the humid bar, she was a beacon in the dim, neon lights.

No one had ever managed to encapsulate prim and proper mixed with raw, unapologetic sensuality like Professor Moore.

“Isn’t that the chick from last weekend?” Cash asked. Not much got past him in The Clutch.

“Mm-hmm, she’s my teacher.” I took another long pull of beer.

Cash whistled. “Doesn’t look like any teacher I ever had. I hope you’re not contemplating doing anything that could get you expelled.”

I chuckled, and Cash grinned.

“Or I take it that ship has sailed?”

“What can I say?” I tossed him a smile. “Worth it.”

Cash got up to walk the baby around as she fussed, woken from her sleep by the start of karaoke. Apparently, a grizzled old biker singing his heart out to White Snake wasn’t an effective lullaby.

The teachers had moved to a booth, and Misty was making sure they had drinks. Ari sat down, and Wade immediately slid in next to her and rested his arm on top of the booth, right above her shoulders.

I didn’t like that. I didn’t like that one fucking bit.

I shifted in my seat, leaning forward and polishing off my first beer. I watched Ari unashamedly. This was my turf. I didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than what I was… the man who held her fate in my hands, holding an invisible leash.

She risked a glance around the bar, and her eyes found mine. She jerked like she’d stuck her finger in a socket.

Her full lips fell open, and I instantly remembered that moment the night before when I’d sunk my thumb inside her mouth.

How she’d tried to bite me, and hurt me…

to scare me away. She lacked killer instinct.

Of course she did. She was the type who insisted on bandaging up a stranger’s hand. A woman who saw colors in music.

She was like no one I’d ever met before, and I wanted her. I rarely wanted anything. I’d learned often enough in my life that to want something was to be disappointed. It was safer not to expect a fucking thing, not to want or need anyone else.

I’d told myself I didn’t need a mom to make dinner when I came home from school and pat my head as I sat at the kitchen table and did homework.

I didn’t need a dad who came to my hockey games and cheered me on, bragging to his friends that his son saved the decisive goal of the night.

I didn’t need an older brother who worked a stable job and went to work every day without the risk of being stabbed or shot or arrested.

I didn’t need anyone. I didn’t want for anything.

But tonight, sitting across the way and watching Ari and her new friends laugh and talk, while she avoided my gaze… I wanted. I wanted her, and I wanted her to fucking want me back.

It was senseless and inconvenient, and yet, I couldn’t deny it.

And just like I’d learned the hard way that it was safer not to want at all, I’d learned that if you did, and you couldn’t stop yourself, the next most important thing to do was make sure you got that thing you wanted as soon as you could… before anyone could steal it from you.