Page 34 of Wicked Ends (Hellions of Hade Harbor #4)

He watched me watch him as Coach Williams held court and instructed the team on their strategy for the next game.

It was a big one. It would be an exciting match.

I wondered what kind of pressure Marcus dealt with every day, being the goalie on a team like the Hellions.

The only solo position on the ice. Forwards were often called stars and fawned over, but there were usually three of them in any given game.

The goalie, on the other hand, stood alone.

The last remaining man between the net and puck, and victory or loss.

It was the highest-pressure position on a team, and the goalie had no one to share the stress with.

The coach blew his whistle again, and the players split apart. Marcus’ Ice God friends congregated around him. He had that energy on the ice as well as off. A natural ringleader, the one who brought and held everyone together. As a group, they turned and headed for the changing rooms.

I stood, cold now in the rink air, and torn on whether to stay or go. If I waited to speak to Marcus, what would I even say? “Are you okay?” Did he even want me to worry about him like that? I had no idea.

I twisted my hands, trying to force some warmth back into them. I left the rink, undecided, and hit the bathrooms before leaving. I washed my hands in hot water, though tepid might be a better description, and stared at myself in the mirror.

Taking the bag had been impulsive, and honestly, I was starting to regret it. I didn’t want to make trouble for Marcus, not the kind that knocked his natural, easy smile off his face. If he had other problems, it looked like he wasn’t sharing them with me. Why would he? I was just a game to him.

Like you share your problems?

Right. I wasn’t letting Marcus in any further than he was letting me. It was hypocritical to be upset about it.

But once, not so long ago, I would have given the entire world for just one person to ask me if I was okay. To notice my pain and suffering.

I took a halting breath and tried to compose myself.

Okay, time to go home.

I was worried about Marcus, and now, I’d seen firsthand that he was in one piece. I had no excuse to hang around.

I left the bathrooms and pushed through the glass doors of the rink, then stopped.

Marcus was standing outside, hair wet from a shower and dressed in his usual outfit of dark jeans and black T-shirt, his hockey bag at his feet.

He had to have showered in record time. That did something to my heart that I couldn’t explain.

He was leaning against the railing at the bottom of the stairs, talking to someone. A girl. A very pretty girl.

I felt stupid then. Ridiculous. I considered turning and going back into the rink before they could see me. I could hide until they’d left, and then I didn’t have to answer for stalking my student to his hockey practice when he hadn’t shown up for class.

But then the girl glanced up and saw me, spoiling my chance.

She giggled and said something to Marcus. He turned to look at me.

Okay, well, too late to save face; time to brazen it out.

I raised my chin and walked down the stairs. The girl was stunning. Young and blonde and in the tightest workout gear I’d ever seen. I couldn’t blame her; if I had that body, I’d probably dress like that, too. Why the hell not?

Still, I’d never felt older and frumpier than I did right now. A stray wrapper drifted past my feet, and I bent and picked it up without thinking, tucking it into my pocket to dispose of later.

Ari, you’re just the kind of fucking nosy bitch who can never let things pass.

“Professor, do you like hockey?” the girl asked, grinning ear to ear.

“I needed to see Coach Williams about something,” I lied smoothly.

“Oh, right. That makes sense. For a second I thought you came to watch the practice, and I was like… why?”

The girl laughed, and I forced a smile. Marcus’ eyes felt like they were burning a hole in the side of my cheek. I didn’t dare turn to him.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I said and made to step past them but didn’t get far.

Marcus’ hand wrapped around my elbow, stopping me completely.

“Nice seeing you, Lana, but like I said, I’ve got plans. I usually do,” he said in a disinterested tone.

The pretty girl flushed. “It’s Lara.”

Marcus shrugged. “Sure. See you later.”

Then he stared at the poor girl until she picked her bag up, glancing curiously at my arm still clutched in Marcus’ grip, and left.

“You could have gone with your… friend.”

“Why are you here?” Marcus interrupted, his dark eyes drilling into me.

Okay, so no small talk.

“You didn’t come to class,” I started.

“So, what, you track down all the students who are no-shows in your private time? That must keep you busy.”

I clenched my jaw, and heat prickled at my cheeks. God, this was embarrassing.

“Fine.” I met his demanding gaze. “I was worried, okay? You ran out of the motel last night, and the look on your face… it was like someone had died. Then you didn’t show up for class.”

“So, you were worried,” Marcus repeated doubtfully. “About me?”

I didn’t know what to do with the emotion in his eyes, so I dropped my gaze, folding my arms over my chest like that would protect me from being vulnerable with this man.

“And yet you’re the one keeping my property hostage… pretty hypocritical.”

“I’m only keeping it hostage because you won’t agree to my terms. It should be an easy thing to accept—staying away from me, that’s it. It’s easy.”

Marcus stared at me. “Is it?” He cleared his throat. “Come on. You look fucking freezing, and it’s dinnertime. You’re eating with me tonight, birthday girl.”

“This feels like returning to the scene of the crime,” I muttered.

Marcus pushed through the front doors of The Clutch. “Yeah, well, I guess I know better by now than to take you somewhere nice… where good respectable folks might see us.” He cast me a sideways glance. “Since I’m your dirty little secret and all.”

“Marcus—” I began but stopped when he waved me off.

“Don’t sweat it, Professor. I’m only joking. Didn’t you hear? That’s all I’m good for.”

He gave me a grin like what he’d said was a joke, but it wasn’t funny at all. I’d never met this Marcus. This version of him was hurt, or worried, maybe he was even angry. I didn’t know him well enough to tell, but something was up. Something more than just the back-and-forth about the bag.

I sat in a booth, and Marcus disappeared into the back to give our order to the cook. A waitress bustled by and stopped in front of me.

“Well, I’ll be. I’m guessing that you’re Anna. I’m Polly, and my husband’s Earl, over at the Night Owl.”

“I know Earl! He’s so kind,” I enthused.

Polly nodded. “Oh, that he is. He’s still trucking away at that old place, and I’ve told him enough over the years that it was time to retire, but he feels bad letting the owner down.

That said, all the trouble they’ve been having there lately, it’s not a safe place for a man his age to work, or for a young woman like yourself to stay alone. You’re Marcus’ girl?”

She gave me a warm grin.

“No! I mean, we’re not a couple.”

“You don’t have to fool me… Marcus doesn’t bring lady friends to his family’s bar. He doesn’t introduce girlfriends to his brother, Cole. He’s more a father to Marcus than his own daddy was… even though there’s just over a decade between them.”

“Is he?” I found myself asking, curious for any tidbit of information on Marcus, the guy who’d turned my nice new start at a life here upside down.

Polly nodded. “That’s right. Marcus went into a group home when Frank was put away.

They didn’t let Cole take over until he’d jumped through all kinds of hoops.

He got him out eventually, but… it had a cost. It all has a cost…

their mama was long gone. Those two boys have only ever had each other.

Cole—well, he did what he had to, to provide for Marcus…

and he’s a damn fine pres of the club.” She rested one hand on her hip and the other on the table, like she was settling in to gossip for hours.

I nodded along, but she didn’t need any more encouragement to keep going.

“Marcus, well, he learned that it’s easier to get people to stick around if you don’t expect anything from them, you don’t complain, maybe you can make ‘em laugh… maybe then, they’ll keep you?—”

“Is that right, Polly?” Marcus’ voice sounded behind Polly.

She jumped and fluttered aside, smoothing her hair nervously. “I was telling your girlfriend a little about my history here at The Clutch.” She looked toward me guiltily.

I nodded, keeping my face blank. I didn’t want Polly getting in trouble for her gossiping, not when I’d lapped up every word.

“Is that right? Well, I think the sharing circle is over for tonight. I don’t want to hold the feelings stick, so let us eat in peace,” Marcus said. His tone wasn’t angry but tired. So tired.

Polly nodded and turned away. I looked at Marcus. There were dark circles under his eyes.

“What happened last night?” I asked him.

He set down two tall tumblers of Coke, the ice clinking in the glasses. “You mean after I emptied my balls inside the tightest, most infuriatingly stubborn woman I’ve ever met?” He sipped his drink.

I fought a full-body flush.

“Yes,” I prompted, forcing myself to appear unfazed. He was trying to throw me off my line of questioning, and I wasn’t going to let him.

He shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. Let’s talk about it later.”

“Okay.” I hoped his strange mood would shift over dinner. I reached out and took a long drink.

“So, what was Polly telling you? Pulling her old-timer waitress/therapist act?”

I shook my head. “Not much, just that you lived with your older brother for a bit.”

“For a bit,” Marcus repeated. “For a bit, after a group home. Did she leave that out?”

“No, she didn’t.”

Marcus’ eyes narrowed as he considered me. “What else did she say?”

“That you’ve never brought a girl here before,” I said, quickly hunting through the nuggets of info that Polly had shared for one that wasn’t too explosive.

Marcus nodded slowly. “True.”

“Why not?”

“Why should I?” he wondered. “My friends come here; Asher, my roommate, works here; my brother is here. I don’t have any need to bring a woman here.”

“I’m here,” I pointed out.

Silence fell.

“You are proving to be an exception in every way.” Marcus sighed.

I took another drink. For some reason, as soon as I’d started to drink, my tongue felt like a desert. I hoped I wasn’t getting sick.

“That’s not a compliment, is it?” I mused.

His mouth pulled up, but it was only a shadow of his usual grin.

“Just a fact. What’s wrong?” he asked when I went to set my drink down and nearly missed the table.

I managed but found my head heavy, nearly too heavy to lift.

“I-I feel strange.” I tipped my head back to lean it against the booth behind me.

“Don’t worry,” Marcus said calmly. He stood, slid into my side of the booth, and wrapped an arm under my shoulders. “It’s the sedative I slipped into your drink taking effect.”

“What?” I demanded, but it only came out a weak plea. “What have you done…” My words slurred, and the world slowed to a crawl.

He pulled me into his chest, cradling me closely, like we were lovers about to kiss. A finger rubbed across my lips, gentle but firm. His eyes were the last thing I saw. Green fading into golden brown.

His voice felt like a lullaby as I was dragged under.

“What I had to. I told you, baby, I always play to win. I’m sorry you’re going to find that out the hard way.”