Heartless Player: A College Hockey Romance : (Westfall U Series)

by R. C. Stephens

  “People don’t change. My mama kept hoping Daddy would change, but that’s like asking a zebra to change its stripes,” I say, still pacing. I just feel so deceived. So…

  “What did Tiffany say, exactly?”

  “That Wolfe has a sister with a disability.”

  “All I know is that girl is one jealous bitch,” Holland snarls.

  “I mean, I had a feeling she wanted him, but I can’t even blame her. Wolfe did all the deceiving. To think he was only interested in me because of his sister? I wonder what kind of accident his family was in. Tiffany said Wolfe was responsible.” Bile crawls up my throat.

  “How could I be so damn stupid? He said he didn’t talk to his family. That his father had insane expectations of him. I just can’t imagine what he did to hurt his sister. Wolfe was so caring. So thoughtful. He always gave me the feeling that he couldn’t hurt a fly.” I walk over to her bed and sit on the edge and allow my head to fall into my hands. I think of him hiding his last name from everyone and wonder if it’s really because of the accident. It feels like I can’t trust anything that he’s ever said. It could have all been lies. A way for him to ease his guilt for whatever he did to his sister. A part of me wants to Google him. His father is governor; it must be public knowledge. But a part of me says it doesn’t matter. We were a lie. A dirty, disgusting lie.

  Holland walks over to me and places her hand on my shoulder. “Maybe you should hear him out?”

  My head snaps up. “Do you know how many times we made love? I feel sick. Used. It was all a lie,” I cry.

  “But maybe it wasn’t,” she says softly.

  “You of all people shouldn’t see the best in a guy like him.” I give her a look of reproach.

  She falls onto the edge of the bed beside me. “You know, one of the things I admire most about you is how resilient you are,” she says, throwing me off. I look at her with furrowed brows.

  “Seriously,” she continues. “I remember coming to visit you in the hospital after the accident. You looked so weak and broken. What your father did was unspeakable. I would sit by your hospital bed and say to myself, what is Rebel going to do now? She has no father, no mother. Her sister is injured. How is she going to get past this? But you didn’t leave me wondering long. You got out of that hospital bed and started physical therapy. You worked your ass off to become strong again, and you had to learn how to walk all over again. You did all those things with grace and with your chin held high. Blossom was a mess. She stayed in bed and stared out a window, but you got up and you fought. And look at you, Rebel. Two years into your degree. The way you can train and train others. You’re my hero. Sure, you preferred to lay low and not be the center of attention, but that’s okay too. You are beautiful and modest and an amazing friend,” she goes on.

  Tears roll down my cheeks. “Stop, you’re going to make my head explode with all the compliments.”

  “As long as you get my point. I don’t know what Wolfe’s angle was or is. But I saw the way he watched you tonight when you were dancing with that guy, and I can tell you, the dude was jealous. He looked like a lost puppy.”

  “Don’t go taking his side now. He wasn’t honest. I told him about the accident and my life with my father. He should have told me that he was hiding something, but he didn’t. That’s such a copout,” I shout, feeling angry and confused. Despite Wolfe’s lies, I still don’t feel comfortable outing his last name to Holland. Just because he’s a douche doesn’t mean I have to be one.

  “Maybe he was scared of losing you. Maybe he saw this beautiful, brave girl and he wanted to find a way to help his sister by getting to know you. That doesn’t mean he didn’t like what he learned about you. He kept on coming back for more,” Holland says.

  “Yeah, so he could figure out how to help his sister so he wouldn’t feel guilty for whatever he did to her. And maybe I was some consolation. Like by hanging out with me and getting me to open up, it made him feel better about himself,” I say dejectedly and feel my heart break even more.

  “Don’t. Just stop,” Holland demands. “I don’t want you putting yourself down. You’re going to need to talk to Wolfe and hear him out.”

  “He didn’t come after me. He hasn’t called. Tiffany was right. He wasn’t into me, because if he were, he would be tracking me down right now.” I can feel an angry flush overtake my cheeks with my outburst.

  “I don’t know what to think,” Holland says, eyes sad.

  “Would you mind if I take a shower? I want to get this makeup and this dress the hell off me,” I say.

  “Go ahead.” She goes to her walk-in closet and returns with a pair of pajamas. She passes them to me and I go into her bathroom. I turn on the shower and remove my prosthesis. I can’t help remembering when I first met Wolfe. He kept offering to give me rides. Was it his guilt?

  I’m driving myself crazy just thinking about it. I take a seat on the shower floor and cry as the warm water runs over my body.

  When I leave the bathroom, Holland’s bedroom is dark. “You okay?” she asks.

  “Not right now, but I will be,” I reply.

  “I know,” she agrees.

  Thirty-One

  Wolfe

  Ringing my parents’ doorbell on a Saturday morning isn’t something I’ve done since leaving this place. But here I am, freezing my ass off on their porch.

  Cait opens the door. “I thought you were coming to get me on Monday.”

  “I am coming to get you on Monday. Does it mean I can’t be here today?” I ask. My head is throbbing and I’ve come home like a lost puppy with its tail stuck between its legs.

  “Of course you can. I just never expect you on a Saturday,” she says and pauses. Her head tilts to the side and her blue eyes, so similar to mine, feel like they’re dissecting me. “You look like shit. What the hell is going on?”

  “How about you invite me in first,” I say drily.

  She wheels herself back and I step into the house. I take off my coat and drop it on the floor, knowing that if my father were here, I’d never hear the end of how messy and inappropriate I am. Fluffy comes up to my side, wagging her tail and sniffing me. I pick her up and hug her to my side. It feels soothing considering my life feels like it’s falling apart all around me.

  “Is he here?”

  She shakes her head, knowing I’m talking about our father.

  “He’s been calling me,” I say as I follow her into the living room.

  “He wants you to convince me to have the surgery. He found a surgeon with a very high success rate. You know what he can be like when he believes in something,” she explains. We stop in front of the wing chairs in the living room and I pat Fluffy’s head and place her on the floor.

  “I have an idea,” I say.

  “Do you plan on taking those sunglasses off?” she asks with a raised brow.

  “My head is throbbing. I was at a party last night.” I wince behind the dark lenses.

  My sister frowns. “I thought you were past the weekend drinking binges.”

  “I was, but I promised the guys we could party last night before going into the championship season. It was a one-off,” I say. “Do you want to talk about the surgery?” I ask, because that is what is important.

  “No pressure, okay? I’m seriously considering it,” Cait answers. Her lips turn up on the right side. “I’d rather hear about what’s eating you.”

  I snicker. “I’m that obvious?”

  “To me you are,” she says, and I exhale.

  “I fucked up with a girl,” I blurt, twiddling my fingers. I feel so off. I don’t fall for girls; I keep them at a distance. Involvement was never my cup of tea, and now I’m drowning.

  “If you screwed up, it means you actually had to be in a relationship with someone. Like you actually care about her?” Cait says.

  I swipe a hand over my mouth and lean forward, hanging my head between my shoulders. “Yeah, I care, but I behaved like a crazy asshole and I’ve lost her.
”

  “Ouch. Why don’t you tell me what happened? You know, I am a girl. Maybe I can give you some advice on how to fix things.”

  I take off my sunglasses and watch my sister flinch. My eyes are puffy as shit because I may have drunk cried in my bed last night when I thought about how messed-up my life was and how shitty I felt about hurting Rebel. The look on her face last night when Tiffany revealed my dirty secret? It was a blow I wasn’t prepared for. Rebel looked gutted. She doesn’t trust easily, yet she trusted me. I lean back into the chair and tell my sister every sordid detail of how Rebel caught my attention because of her prosthesis. How I was intrigued by her independence and beauty and wondered how she managed her life at college with a disability. I tell Cait how I originally did it to help her but that somewhere along the line, Rebel got under my skin and I fell in love with her.

  “She’s the most beautiful, kind heart I know. And she’s so damn courageous,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “You had to see her, Cait. The way she stood up to her sister’s drug addict boyfriend.”

  Cait grins. “Whoa, that sounds complicated.”

  “No, they’re good people. Rebel is really smart. She’s a kinesiology major. Her sister just got in over her head, and Rebel is so loving and caring. She stood up for her sister when she didn’t have the strength to stand up for herself.” I feel a burst of pride in my chest for her every time I remember it.

  Cait reaches out and takes my hand. “She sounds a lot like you, big brother.”

  “I’ve done nothing to defend you.” I look at her, confused.

  “You’ve been so supportive since the accident,” she says.

  “An accident I caused.”

  My sister blows out a frustrated breath. “We aren’t doing this again. You aren’t to blame. Now, back to… what did you say her name was?”

  “Rebel,” I say.

  “Rebel,” Cait repeats, and she smiles sadly. “Your eyes go soft when you talk about her. I have to admit. You’ve been so closed off these last number of years, I didn’t see you ever falling for someone. But I am happy you did.”

  “Are you not hearing me? What I did was fucked-up and I lost her, Cait. I fucking lost her.” Frustrated, I stand up and walk toward the french doors that overlook the grounds in front of the house.

  Cait rolls herself over next to me. “What you did was messed up. I appreciate you wanting to find ways to help me, but I need to help myself. After the accident, I felt hopeless and I was in a very dark place, but I’ve been working with therapists and now I realize that I need to make changes for myself. I can’t—no, I don’t want to live my life like this, stuck in this chair and staying in this house,” Cait says adamantly. “Dad thinks he needs to convince me to do the surgery, but I don’t need convincing. I’ve decided to do it. Not because he’s pressuring me, but for myself.”

  I turn around and reach down to hug my sister. “I’m happy to hear you talking like this.”

  “You need to understand that I’m doing it for me. I had to get here on my own. You have to stop trying to save me. The accident wasn’t your fault.” Her voice is strong with conviction.

  I hiccup and tears I’ve probably been holding on to for three years reach the surface and fall down my cheeks. I straighten up. “I am to blame. I distracted him,” I say, referring to the accident.

  We had been driving to our weekend property in Nantucket. Mom was in the passenger seat. Dad was driving, and Cait and I had been sitting in the backseat watching Grown Ups 1 on our iPad. As the governor of Massachusetts, Dad was on the phone for most of the ride, using his Air Pods. Cait and I got into a fight. We started horsing around. Cait was trying to pull the iPad away from me, but I had a death grip on it. Dad turned around to yell at us, and the moment he did, we swerved into oncoming traffic. Everything after that was a blur.

  “We distracted him,” Cait tries to correct me like she usually does, emphasizing the word “we.”

  “I’m a competitive asshole, there was no way I was letting you tear that iPad out of my hands,” I tell her.

  My sister’s lips turn down. “And I was the stubborn asshole who wasn’t going to back down either,” she says, looking me sharply in the eyes. We’ve had this conversation more times than I can count. It doesn’t matter. Dad blamed me. I was the irresponsible one. The one who spent too much time playing a sport instead of doing my schoolwork. To him, my love of hockey was a disgrace, non-academic, something he thought the lower classes engaged in, although he would never admit it out loud to his constituents. “Daddy was distracted. He was always distracted with work, and we were being kids. It’s time you let this go. It’s eating you up inside and it’s clearly interfering with your relationships.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I lost her,” I say, referring to Rebel.

  “So, get her back. You said it yourself. You’re a stubborn, competitive asshole who doesn’t back down. Find a way.” Cait’s chin tilts up a little in defiance.

  “Seriously? Tiffany told her I was interested in her because of her disability. How would that make you feel knowing that? I’ve burned that bridge.”

  “So, pave a new one. Show her how much she means to you.”

  “I haven’t a clue how to do that.”

  “You’re resourceful,” she counters.

  “That’s not helpful,” I say, raising my brows.

  “My job is to be a thorn in your behind. Figure it out. I can’t tell you what to do. You know the girl. You said you loved her, so you must know her heart. Just figure a way to get back into her good graces.”

  “If only it were that easy.” My shoulders sag.

  Cait blows out an exasperated breath. “Stay and have some lunch with me.”

  “Sure.” I spend the rest of the afternoon with my sister and Fluffy. And I still don’t have a clue how I can get Rebel back. After lunch, I head up to the mezzanine to see my mother.

  “Cait is doing well,” I tell her.

  I watch her lower lip quiver as she stares out the window. Her life is filled with so much pain. Everything about this house is dreary, including our dysfunctional family. No wonder I avoided relationships like the plague.

  “Did you hear me, Mom? Cait is going to have surgery and hopefully she’ll be up and walking,” I say, and that’s when Mom’s gaze snaps to mine. I think she’s going to say something, but then she turns away and looks right back out the window. I wonder what made her stay here in this place when Dad is never here. She must have pictured a different life for herself at some point. She was just never able to reach out and grasp it. It makes me sad. I kiss my mother’s forehead and head back down to Cait. My head isn’t throbbing anymore now that I’ve had a huge lunch.

  “I’ll be back to get you Monday afternoon. You can come hang out at my place before the game,” I say to her.

  “Your house isn’t wheelchair friendly,” she reminds me.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll pick you and the chair up.” I grin and flex my muscles.

  “Better lay off the steroids there,” she says jokingly. At least, I think she’s joking.

  “I don’t touch that stuff and never plan to. My body is the result of hard work,” I say.

  “Glad to hear. How is Cole doing?” Cait asks. My sister’s never admitted it, but I think she’s always had a crush on Cole.

  “Fine,” I say curtly. “I’m going to head out.”

  “Okay.” Cait follows me to the door and I grab my jacket off the floor. “Always the rebel.” She smirks. And that makes me think of Rebel too.

  I frown.

  “Sorry,” Cait says.

  “Don’t be.” I lean down and wrap my arms around her in a hug. “See you Monday.”

  Just as I’m walking out the door, a black Tesla pulls up. The falcon-wing doors open and out comes my father.

  Even now, after so many years of being on my own, my stomach sinks and my nerves kick up about a hundred notches. Dad looks sleek in a black Canada Goose jacket, avia
tors, and jeans. He looks powerful and confident, and when he comes up to me at the door, he takes off his sunglasses.

  “I tried calling you,” he says with distaste.

  No, “hi, Wolfe.” Of course I shouldn’t expect a hug or an “I miss you, son.” That would be insane. Christopher Ellison is cold and determined. At least those are my best adjectives for describing him.

  “I was busy,” I reply.

  “Too busy to care about your sister?” he asks with that same condescending I-am-better-than-you-ever-will-be tone.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” I retort, not wanting to show him how much he rattles me. How much he makes me feel like a worthless piece of shit.

  “I don’t know why you’re here,” Dad says.

  “I came to see Cait. I wasn’t expecting you to be home because you’ve never been here for anyone.” I don’t know where my sudden burst of courage comes from, but I am sick and tired of letting him take me down.

  “This coming from the kid who moved out and never shows his face around here. I see the apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree,” Dad says, and the corner of his lip tugs in the slightest, making his sneer look repulsive.

  “Both of you stop,” Cait says loudly. “Dad, Wolfe came to see me. He is always there for me. He may have left home, but he hasn’t left me. Your accusations are unfair.”

  “Thanks, Cait, but I don’t need you defending me. I can take care of myself,” I tell her.

  “Can you? I heard you got injured badly this season. Is that what you want a life of; fighting on the ice? Waiting for a concussion that will end you?” Dad asks.

  “Don’t act like you’re concerned. I didn’t exactly hear from you after my injury, and I love playing hockey. I love the game. I love my team. We’re like a family, and it’s something I’m proud to be a part of. I don’t expect you to understand. As governor, you’re only out for yourself. You like the power and what it means to have the title. But what about your family? Mom is upstairs drowning in sorrow. When is the last time you asked her how she was doing? Or when is the last time you tried to get her some help?” I ask and wait for his answer.