by L. J. Woods
Christian and I are from two different worlds now. He still stands for everything I hate but that gives me something. That spark. That burst. Fuel.
Inspiration.
Moving to the living room, plate in hand, I grab the notepad and pen off the mirrored coffee table before grabbing the hotel phone next to me. “Hey, room service? Can I have some coffee and a couple of painkillers?” She asks if I want it charged to the room and that’s when I realize, I’m not on my dime. So I order up a few other things to keep me company. Like some writer’s juice, or in this case, “A bottle of your finest champagne.”
Spending the rest of the morning writing out a plot feels like a dream while I lounge around in a fluffy white robe, sipping mimosas. Hair of the dog is a time-tested remedy and I’m riding that train, the buzz from last night resurfacing. I don’t even notice how much time passes until the phone startles me, my ass moulded into the sofa.
Pushing the pen on my ear I pick up.
“Evening, mi reina.”
His deep, smooth words send a flutter from my core through my body. “Is that your new name for me? What happened to Loca?” I’m transported to his voice in my ear last night, while I fucked his fingers to orgasm after orgasm.
“Well if you’re dating a King …” Now I’m biting my lip. “Hey, about last night—”
“We can talk about that later.” Cutting him off, I shake my head like he can see me. I don’t want a twisted conversation ruining my flow. Or I’m avoiding the inevitable, trying to live in this post-hookup fantasy a little longer. “Focus on your game.”
He chuckles, “You’re something else, Rayne Rose.” My cheeks heat again. So do my thighs. “Lexi’s coming to grab you before the game. I know the plan was to stay with the girls but there’s security at the hotel.”
“No, that’s perfect,” I say, noticing the sultry hint in my voice before I stop myself from twirling my hair like I’m a smitten high schooler.
“Perfect,” Christian repeats. There’s a moment of silence. It’s both comfortable and tense and I hope I’m not breathing as hard as my heart beats. He’s only been gone a few hours but I already feel like I want to taste him again. Feel him again. “See you soon, Rayne.”
By the time I have a solid plot, the front desk tells me Lexi’s here. When she gets to the door, she’s got a whole lot more on her arms than what we bought the day before. Her eyes wander my frame in the fluffy robe, my hair a mess before she grins. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
While we get dressed for the game I tell her a little about our night. But recounting last night’s antics doesn’t do anything to get him out of my head. By the time we’re dressed, I’m a little nervous to see him again. Last night was raw and … a little blurry but there’s a flutter in my stomach the entire time we pre-drink.
We’re all in little cheerleader outfits when we arrive at the local arena. I was hesitant about wearing another getup but knowing how much Christian loved me in the first one, I can’t wait until he sees me in this. Lexi did her magic, a swirl of makeup around my eyes in the Hawks colours. While I feel like a clown, this is the most excited I’ve been for a hockey game since third grade.
I’m a bundle of nerves the entire way there but Lexi hands me her flask of tequila. By the time we're in the bleachers, I'm warmed up, buzzed and ready for a game.
When the guys hit the ice, Christian’s eyes search the crowd. He’s all suited up in his gear but his eyes narrow like he's looking for something.
Me?
“Kick their ass, Perez!” I yell.
The moment I do, a wide grin spreads across his face. His gaze meets mine and the flutters roll through me again.
Get it together, Rose.
His glove grips the stick and when the ref blows the whistle, he whips into action.
Parents sit around us but I don’t see Christian’s dad. So I cheer louder, joining Lexi and the girls with being the loudest voices in the building. Christian points his glove my way, my body responding with a shiver down my spine before he lands his first goal and it’s not long before he lands his second. You’d never be able to tell he’d sprained his ankle a few days ago. He’s playing like a fucking champ, dominating the ice.
“He’s killing it.” A voice comes from beside me. A girl. When I turn to who it is, my eyes widen, King joining her side. That brings last night rolling back, my stomach churning.
“Listen, Jo, I’m so sorry,” I explain. “I was only trying to make Christian jealous.” I wince when I hear myself admit that out loud. That was such an Eden move.
King smirks beside her and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. King can be a manipulative dick when he’s not thinking.” She nudges him with her elbow as Christian steals my attention, stealing the puck from the opposing team.
“That I can be,” King speaks up. He leans over, handing me another flask. Eden is still full of functioning alcoholics. That’s one way to survive in hell. “Sorry for putting you in that situation. But, it looks like it helped. Noticed you guys disappeared and I don't have to ask what you were doing.”
Jo rubs her stomach. “Careful. Or you might get one of these yourself. Then you’re stuck with ‘em forever.” She smiles towards the ice. “And knowing Christian, he wants perfect Eden kids in a perfect Eden house for his perfect Eden life."
I wince. “Nooo, no, no. I know how quickly families can fall apart. No offense, but that’s not on my list.”
Jo raises her hands to show she’s not bothered. “Hey, to each their own. But take it from this foster kid. A lot can change in a little bit of time.”
We killed someone.
This is likely not the time to ask, but my curiosity is hard to stop. “Did something happen in Eden?” Jo’s brows lower so I explain, moving in closer, the scent of vanilla getting stronger. “I used to live there a long time ago and someone hinted that something fucked up happened?”
Jo glances at King who’s rolling a jay in the middle of the arena. It’s like she knows something but she’s holding back. “He’s a good guy. You’re in good hands. Believe me.”
“So, I’m not a good guy?” King pipes in.
“No,” she responds. “You’re not. But you’ve been through hell.” Jo turns back to me. “And so has he. Behind that charming exterior is a lot of pain. He hides it well but … don’t we all.”
The buzzer sounds, Christian slamming another goal as this side of the arena goes wild. He points his glove my way as if to say “that was for you.”
My stomach flips, heat on my skin.
“Do you see those fucking googly eyes?” King chuckles, “Man, Perez is as fucked as I am.”
And I’m pretty sure I’m fucked too.
Seventeen
Christian
Seeing Rayne in the crowd makes me play harder than I have in a while.
Well, that and the fact that I had one of the best nights of my life with her. That was one hell of a birthday celebration.
Seeing her show up for me despite giving her the chance not to must mean she doesn’t regret it. That fuels the fire on this ice.
I’m doing things I shouldn’t do. Especially with a scout in the crowd like driving the puck all by myself to the net. That gets me a goal, so does skating backward to the net so I can see the look on her face. My dad in the stands is nothing but stress, but Rayne? She makes me want to do my best. Especially in that little outfit she’s wearing that she knows drives me fucking insane.
King standing next to her doesn’t rile me up like it did last night. We hashed it out this morning. Said he didn't like seeing me so close to his girl and, same here. But the shiner under his eye helps.
We finish the game with a solid shutout. Five to nothing and the boys relish in the win. It puts us far ahead in the league and this win is bound to impress any scouts. And Ray.
“Looking good, Perez.” Turning around a man in a suit tips his head to me. He’s from the Bruins. Dad played for them for a few years. “Expect t
o hear from us.” I keep a straight face, nodding, but there’s a party going on inside and when I look over at Coach, he smiles.
“You gave it your all today, Perez.” Coach gives me a hard pat on my back. “You deserve it. Oh, and there’s someone else here to see you.” He steps aside, Ray in that outfit behind him and this is starting to feel like a win all over again. “I’ll round up the guys. Keep your hands to yourself, Perez. I’m always watching.” Coach points at his eyes, then mine before walking to the locker room. I thought he’d be mad that she came up but it looks like they’ve sorted something out.
“Hey,” she says, biting the nail of her thumb. That hasn’t changed and that means she’s nervous. “Congrats on the win. You have impressive skills, Perez.”
I take a step towards her, towering over her in my skates. “You talking about the hockey game or last night?”
“Next time I’ll be sure to bring scorecards.”
That sassy humour makes me smile. “So there’ll be a next time?”
"Not if you keep begging for it like a horned-up puppy." She pushes on my chest with a laugh, her cheeks reddening and after last night, it’s clear some walls are gone. “So," she hesitates, her toffee eyes meeting mine, rocking on her boots. "I guess, I’ll see you back in Eden?”
“Or in thirty minutes,” I confirm. “You’re riding with me.”
She scrunches her nose. “And twenty other guys? No."
I laugh. “I’m not riding with those sweaty ballsacks. I drove up.”
And she doesn’t fight it. “Alright.” She nods as I roam my eyes over that outfit. “See you in thirty.”
I’m quick out of the showers like I got a hot date and I don’t even care that the guys make fun of me in the process. Isaac babbles about Lexi but being in the shower, my mind is only on Ray’s naked body.
“I gotta get her outta my house, man,” Isaac says, towel around his waist when I pull the thick curtain open. “Lexi is ruining my game.”
I laugh. “Man, as exciting as it sounds to come up with a plan, I gotta get Ray home.”
He arches a brow. “Home? Or do you mean on your dick?” Brushing by him, he chuckles. “So you all are getting serious, huh?” He waits for an answer but I shrug. “You have a thing for broken girls. Just don’t get your heart broken this time.”
A pang hits my chest before I glance at him. “I’m good.”
He lifts his hands in surrender and with that, I finish getting ready.
When I meet Rayne outside the rink, she’s hanging with King and Jo and she fits in like the perfect skate. Two rich assholes and their badass girls. Not that Ray’s agreed to be my real girlfriend, but I can change that.
“Thanks for coming down, man,” I give King a pat on his back. “Next time we have a game close by, I’ll expect you to stir some shit up again.”
He laughs and while he’s a prick, it’s nice to hear it again. He pulls me in for another hug. “Well, at least you know she cares. ‘Cause this bruise on my face tells me you got yourself in quite the hole, Perez and I don’t mean pussy.”
After saying goodbyes, Rayne gets in the car, without my demands or strapping her in this time. It’s silent as we drive out the lot and down the road. It’s like we’re both afraid to come back to reality.
Raising the volume on the stereo, “Aston Martin Music” by Rick Ross comes on and with the mood I’m in, it’s hard not to sing along to the chorus. I’m a boss with Ray by my side. Like I imagined it all those years ago in my Hot Wheels jeep.
“I still think that’s one hell of a banger,” Ray’s voice breaks the silence, a waviness in her raspy voice. Glancing at her, those glossy eyes tell me she burned one with King. “That song with you and Isaac? You’ve got a hell of a voice.”
“So do you,” I reply, car gliding down the road. “Filled my room with your screams last night.”
She slaps my knee but even that’s enough to send heat through my body. “Seriously,” she laughs and I’m already used to having that laugh around me again. Melodious. Raspy. Perfect. “Is hockey really what you want to do for the rest of your life?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? I killed it today. Even got a nod from the Bruins.”
“So you’re gonna follow the path daddy’s laid out for ya.”
That gets her a narrow glance. Why is she pushing this? “As if you’re not out to impress your dad? Isn’t that how I got you to be my fake girlfriend?”
“No,” she spits back. “I didn’t want my dad to get fired from a decent job. Compared to your weekly allowance, his pay is shit.”
“And that’s my fault too?”
“Yes, you rich, privileged man, it—”
SLAM!
The car lunges forward with a hard force, cutting off her words.
“What the fuck?” My hand flies to her thigh, making sure she’s okay before I glance in the rearview, a black Escalade on my heel. "What is this guy's problem?"
Pressing on the gas puts me further away from the SUV, but it's quick to come back up behind us. I can’t make out who's inside. It’s an older model telling me it's no one from Eden but the driver has on a cap that blocks his face.
“Shit,” Rayne mutters but she doesn’t sound surprised.
Wait. “Don't tell me this is your stalker.” I press harder on the gas.
“I—I dunno …”
She’s hesitating to answer but this isn’t the time to grill her. Whoever this is is out for us.
“You strapped in?” I ask.
She nods, looking over her shoulder, a nibble on her nail.
I hardly catch the license plate before it hits us again. Then again.
Gripping the wheel, I keep the car on the road. “Fuck.”
But it’s not for long. The last hit makes me veer off and I’m trying to steer back before the car revs, ramming us.
Rayne screams.
Then for a minute, we're weightless.
I’m gripping tight to the wheel as the car flips, the world spinning.
Her wide eyes are the last thing I see before everything goes black.
Eighteen
Rayne
“Sweetheart?”
The name comes out of his mouth like a tease. Like he’s hunting me. But it’s enough to make my eyes pop open. My head pounds, body burning. Sore.
A crack shows through the windshield, smoke billowing from somewhere, a hissing in the background.
I’m seeing the world upside down, still strapped to the passenger seat, the smell of burnt rubber in the air. Tugging on the seatbelt doesn’t get me loose but I’m able to reach for my knife in my pocket. I’m thanking the heavens Christian gave it back, in an interesting way but relieved nonetheless. I’m gonna need it.
I am power. Not prey.
It hurts to turn my head but I need to make sure he’s okay. Looking through a blurry, bloodied eye, I say his name as quietly as I can, but loud enough so he can hear it. “Perez.”
My knife slices through the fabric of my seatbelt like butter before I crash into the windshield. Wincing, pain vibrates through me.
“The car is fucking totalled, boss. Sorry.”
A familiar voice comes from outside of the car.
“If I find her, I’ll bring her back.”
Shit.
Jack.
“Christian!” I whisper again.
He doesn’t move when I shake his hard shoulders and that makes my stomach twist. His head hangs to one side, blood coming from his nose.
Fuck …
My heart thuds, Jack’s voice coming closer as I shake his body harder.
No.
God, no.
Slicing his belt loose, he falls to the windshield. The glass cracks some more under his weight and finally, he groans.
A heavy weight lifts off my chest before I tap his face with my hand. “Christian?”
Jack’s footsteps come closer, the sound of his crunching steps loud in my ear.
“Christian we gotta go. Now.”
He groans again, eyes blinking open.
Step, crunch. Step, crunch.
My heart thuds with Jack’s every move. If he finds me, well, I don’t want to think about what’ll happen if he does. If he’s out here, Ace lost his patience.
“Sweetheart?” he singsongs, his voice so close it makes my body tense, pain ringing through me. “You alive?”
His shoe appears at the driver’s side of the car, my eyes widening.
Christian groans. He’s alive, but if I stay here, I won’t be. My lips press to Christian’s head and that makes him open an eye, his face scrunched but I’m out of time.
Pushing through the passenger window, I’m grateful I rolled it down for some air. Grateful I didn’t get thrown out of it. ‘Cause now, it’s my escape and I hope Jack doesn’t see me come out from it.
Glass scratches my legs and arms and I’m regretting wearing this getup. It’s not the best for a getaway. The side of the car hides a large rock at the side of the road and I’m quick to get behind it, hoping I'm not being loud. If he doesn't find me, he’ll leave.
At least I hope.
“Well, if it isn’t the new lover boy.”
Fuck.
Peeking over the rock, Jack drags Christian out of the car, his body limp. Christian groans but I’m too far to hear what he’s saying, his voice croaky and weak.
“Where is she?” Jack asks. Christian’s body goes rigid before I see his large hands reach for Jack’s throat.
Yes, fight!
But before he can, Jack pulls his gun. He presses Christian face-first to the ground next to the flipped car. He’s on his ankle, and the strained look on Christian’s face tells me he’s in a lot of pain.
“You’re disposable, Rich Boy," Jack says. "But you can save yourself if you tell me where she went.” He looks over at the empty road and it looks like he's checking for witnesses.
Christian's a fighter though, twisting and turning with his arms behind his back. He’s about to say something when he looks up. My heart skips when Christian’s eyes lock with mine.