Jase

by MariaLisa deMora

  He wasn’t one to take shit from opposing, though, and had earned the nickname Duke It Out Dugger. Jase had watched some promo reels of the man’s fights. He was good on his feet and with his fists, hammering on his opponents with both finesse and power.

  Finally, he thought, practice is over. The rest of the team was leaving the ice. Not wanting to seem eager to unlace, Jase stepped back onto the ice and skated to the far boards. He worked through an agility routine he learned in Russia, skating through neutral ice, pushing his legs hard as he moved forward and backwards across the rink, then repeated it to come to a stop against the far wall. Turning, he saw Coach and Dugger were both watching him and was afraid he had held them up, thinking maybe they didn’t leave the ice until everyone else was off.

  Skating back across to them, he nodded as he stepped onto the mats, pleased when the coach said, “Good initiative, Spencer.”

  ***

  In the parking lot outside the practice arena, he straddled his bike, pulling on his gloves. His helmet balanced on the tank in front of him and he was staring blankly at it, straightening the seams on the fingers of the gloves when he heard a bike enter the lot. Looking up, he recognized Slate’s bike and lifted a hand, watching as the man rode over to him.

  “Hey,” he offered as a greeting, continuing to fiddle with his gloves. With away games last weekend, it had been a week since he had seen DeeDee, and it had been nearly as long since he talked to her. All his calls went unanswered, except by an occasional, brief text. After Ruby had been located and rescued, she had spent several days in the hospital, and during her stay, DeeDee was understandably busy, spending a lot of time with her as the girl recovered from her ordeal. The few details Jase knew were sketchy, but it had sounded seriously scary for a while.

  He had gotten a text from Mason earlier today, thanking him for looking out for DeeDee. Responding with a brief No problem, he hadn’t thought anything else of it until now. Seeing the look on Slate’s face, he had an idea that Mason’s communication and Slate’s visit were connected somehow, and strongly suspected he wasn’t going to like it.

  “Jase.” Slate reached out a hand and they gripped wrists, shaking firmly. “How’s Road’s old ride treating you?”

  “Good, man. Loving the bike,” he responded, settling back onto the seat and tapping his fingers against the sides of the helmet. “What brings you out this way? How’s Ruby doing?”

  “She’s doing really good. Everything is beginning to settle back down like it was before that shit all happened. Doing good. Still needs some help, but we have plenty of that around the apartment these days.” He took a deep breath. “Kinda on that topic, DeeDee wanted me to let you know she’s going to be busy for a while. What with helping Ruby and still managing Slinky’s, she’s got a lot on her plate right now.” Slate had the good grace to look bashful as he delivered the message. If his heart hadn’t been clenching in his chest right now, Jase might feel sorry for the man.

  “She couldn’t tell me herself?” Every breath he sucked in brought pain, as if he were breathing ground-up glass. He was breaking apart inside, and his chest hitched when he locked his eyes on Slate. “She had to send someone? She afraid I’m going to go off on her if she dumps me? That’s what this is, right? She’s dumping me?”

  “Dude, I don’t know what this is, honestly. She’s been with Ruby so much, her and Bear’s mom, and I don’t know if she’s tired, or scared, or yeah…dumping you. No fucking idea, man. I got nothing.” Slate shrugged at him. His face twisted as he said, “Mason told me to remind you there was an understanding.”

  “All right.” He closed his mouth resolutely, locking the rest of the words in his throat. After a minute, he swallowed and nodded, saying, “All right. If she wants me, she’s got my number. I’m aware of Mason’s words to me before I came down here, and I…I won’t bother her.” He swallowed again, shook his head, and said sarcastically, “Beauty. Just fucking beauty.”

  Slate looked at him for a long minute, then without another word, kicked his bike to life, pulling away and out of the lot. Pain in his chest at the thought of losing DeeDee, Jase watched him leave, sitting on the bike, his shoulders rounding with exhaustion. He tipped his head and pulled on the helmet. Turning the key to start the bike, he turned towards home, wondering what he had done to make her draw away again.

  ***

  She stood in Ruby’s kitchen waiting, hands twisting in the hem of her shirt. Slate had just gotten home and she wanted to ask him if he had a chance to talk to Jase. He stalked into the room and threw her a disgusted look, then glanced around. “She’s napping,” she said quietly, knowing he was looking for Ruby.

  “Woman,” he took a step closer to her, his voice low and harsh. “If you didn’t matter so much to my Ruby, I’d be kicking your ass right about now.” The venom in his tone surprised her, but she kept her face expressionless, waiting. “Man was devastated. I don’t know what kind of fucking game you’ve been playing with him, but this shit stops right the fuck here. You don’t want him, well then that’s just fucking fine. You just stay the fuck away from him.”

  She balled up her fists, and then consciously relaxed them. “How did he look?”

  “Nope, you don’t get to ask that kind of fucking question. The man’s as close to a brother as an unpatched friend of the club can be, and I am not going to be goddamn well sucked into your game. This is the last time I fucking play messenger boy for you.” Angrily he stripped off his jacket and shrugged out of his cut. “I’m going to go lay with my woman. I’m going to lay with her, because I fucking love her, and I ain’t afraid to tell her, so she knows where I stand. She don’t play no fucking games, so I know where she stands, too. You need to get your shit straight, DeeDee. You’re family, but part of being family means I get to call you on your shit, and this is shit.”

  He turned to walk up the stairs and paused, his foot on the first step. He lifted the cut in his hand and looked at the patch, then glanced over at her before looking back down. Head bowed, he stood there a moment, and then told her, “He said if you want him, you got his number. Man said he won’t bother you.” Slate turned his head, looking at her with hard eyes, reminding her of that scary side she had seen once before. “Mason told him if he fucked this up, he was a dead man. Did he fuck this up, DeeDee? I need to worry about putting him to ground for fucking you over?”

  Her breath caught in her chest and she shook her head, terror making tears gather in the corners of her eyes. She infused all her certainty in her voice when she said, “No, Slate. This is all on me.”

  “Good to fucking know.” Heavily, he walked up the stairs, and in a moment, she heard the murmur of his voice and Ruby’s.

  Their easy intimacy brought Winger to mind, and she leaned her elbows on the countertop, face in her palms. He had always been so proud of her, proud to have her ride tail on his bike, proud to have her wear his patch, her rag, proud to have her on his arm. They owned each other, and he made sure everyone that saw them knew it.

  She listened to his flattering talk about her more than once, sometimes even when she was present and sitting on his lap. He always called her a ‘pretty, young thing’ and crowed loudly about their age difference, because he had been sixteen years older. The brothers would rib him about keeping up, and he would puff up and grin, pulling her in for a hug and a squeeze. It was important to him, added to his machismo.

  When she and Jase first were seeing each other, she brought up their age difference a couple of times and he laughed it off, saying it didn’t matter. Maybe it didn’t matter to him like it had Winger, at least not now, but she feared it would eventually. But what if I made the wrong decision? she thought.

  Standing, she pushed back from the counter. No, this was the right thing to do; she just needed to push past the pain. Winger had been so proud of having his pretty, young thing, and she wanted Jase to have that in his life, too. He deserved to have the opportunity to find love…but with someone his own age. Sco
ffing, she asked herself, “Did you finally admit to loving him, old lady?”

  ***

  The next morning, Jase was an hour early for the team’s gym session, already deep into a strenuous leg workout, when Leeland Dugger walked in. He walked over to where Jase was lunge walking with a heavily weighted barbell across his shoulders, and stood watching, arms folded across his chest. Jase grunted, “Dugger,” and continued his workout; he was in the middle of the rep count and didn’t want to lose concentration.

  Dugger warmed up, keeping his attention on Jase, even as he pulled and stretched his muscles. Finally finished, Jase straight-armed the weights up and then down his front to chest level, controlling the drop and placing the equipment quietly on the rack. He stumbled a bit backing up, deciding it was easier to ride the fall out and landed on the mats on his ass. Once down, he reached out for his bottle of water now conveniently within his grasp, as if he intended the move all along.

  Dugger snorted, laughing and said, “Never seen a guy so intent on punishing himself as you are this morning. Care to share what the hell you’ve done to deserve this kind of treatment?”

  Breathing hard, Jase swigged from his water again, draining the bottle. He looked at it for a moment, then crushed it and twisted the cap back on, tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Looking up, he huffed, “Nothing. Really. Couldn’t sleep, so might as well work out. I’m just tryin’ to keep up with the Duke, man.”

  “Fuck you.” This was said without rancor, and Jase nodded, paused, and then sadly shook his head.

  “Nope, not my type, Cap’n. Sorry.” He smiled tightly as his response drew a laugh from the man.

  “Just call me Lee, dude. You’re making me dizzy with the name changes every time we talk,” he said, finishing with his warm-up stretches and moving to the leg press machine. “Lunch when we’re finished. We’ll meet a couple of the guys at a local rib joint and feed the machine.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good. What time does the bus leave this afternoon for Kalamazoo?” They had a three-game series in Michigan and would be staying in a hotel for two nights.

  “Two o’clock, I think,” Lee grunted, continuing his leg workout. “You’re rooming with me.”

  Surprised, Jase glanced up. Normally, the captain would have his pick of roomies. While Daniel always selected the guys who needed the most babysitting, he knew he shouldn’t assume that’s what Lee was doing. He stood, walking over to pick up the barbell again, ready to continue his workout.

  “Don’t look like that,” Lee said, letting the weights down with a clang. “I’m tired of rooming with kids. I always have to sleep with one eye open, once they get over the fear of the captain. Last year,” he picked up a bottle of water and took a drink, “I woke up with a shaving cream beard. Another night, they carried all the furniture out of the room and into the hallway of the hotel.”

  “Rookie moves,” Jase scoffed, breathing hard as he lifted. “Last year, I got our new goalie three times with the same prank. I bet the boy will check his skates’ blades for tape for the rest of his life. His crush was at the game every single time. To this day, she’s convinced he can’t skate, because he falls down so much.”

  Lee laughed, throwing his empty bottle away. “The year before I earned captain, I got our goalie with a water bottle at four games.” Holding up four fingers, he made a face to emphasize his success and then pantomimed tipping a bottle up and squeezing it, then being covered with liquid. “Booosh. Classic.”

  Jase finished the set as several of their teammates strolled into the gym. He and Lee shared a glance then they both looked pointedly at the clock, noting the scheduled session should have begun thirty minutes ago. Jase stepped back, leaning his elbow on the weight rack. “Go ahead, Cap’n. This should be good.”

  ***

  They won all three games in the series in Kalamazoo, but tonight it had been by the skin of their teeth. Hanging onto their one goal lead for the entire last period had seemed impossible, but their lines had skated hard and aggressively to pull off the win. Now, they were in Cincinnati for a game tomorrow night. They hadn’t even stopped in Fort Wayne long enough to grab clean clothes.

  “Jesus Murphy.” Jase threw himself backwards onto the hotel bed, dropping his duffle to the floor. “Those motherfuckers had a hard-on for you, Lee. I was only collateral damage, and I’m beat to shit and back, eh? What the hell did you do to that Biannac guy, sleep with his mother?”

  Lee smiled grimly and tossed his bag against the wall with force, watching as it fell to the floor. “His sister, actually.”

  Jase picked up his head in disbelief, looking at his roommate with wide eyes and an open mouth. “Tell me you’re kidding, man. Hell, I have a sister. That would cross a line. I wouldn’t want you sleeping with her, and I like you.”

  “She and I went to Boston at the same time. I didn’t know her brother played, but it probably wouldn’t have mattered if I did. What are the chances that we would be facing off across the circle?” Lee shook his head. “The hell with it. I don’t care if it is a half-hour after midnight curfew; I’m headed to the bar for a drink. After that game, I need one. About the only perk of being team captain is I can break curfew when I decide to and there’s no one to give me shit. Why don’t you come down with me, Jase? I could use the company.”

  Jase let his head fall back on the bed again, plugging in one earbud. “Nuh-uh, man. No way. Have you met our captain? He’s a ball-buster from way back. I’m staying right here. Might not move again. Ever. Jesus Murphy, man, you’re a line crosser. Stay the hell away from my sister.” His breathing slowed and just before he fell asleep, he heard the click of the door as it closed behind Lee. Lucero was up next on the playlist, and Ben Nichols was singing about drinking, explaining how hard it was to get back up in I’ll Just Fall. Twisting his head back and forth, he murmured, “She would be bad for you, man.”

  He woke up in the middle of the night to breathless giggles coming from the other bed and groaned, pulling his pillow over his head and rolling onto his stomach. He hoped the position would keep him from the attention of wandering hands, but knew it wasn’t a sure thing, especially if the girl was a puck bunny, out to fuck as many players as she could boast about.

  “Jason Spencer.” Lee said his name in response to a whispered question, and he groaned again when the girl’s voice rose in excitement.

  “Spencer from Chicago? Seriously? He won the championship last year.” More giggles and then the sound of rocking, swaying bedsprings began, and with the images the noises evoked, Jase felt his cock start to harden, swelling and lengthening until it was uncomfortable. Shifting his hips, he reached down to stroke himself slowly as he listened to the gasps and sighs filling the room, hearing the bedding-muffled slap of flesh-on-flesh as Lee fucked her harder. I do not want to jack off to this, he thought, removing his hand, disgusted with himself.

  He thought about the hotel in Chicago and DeeDee, seeing her red hair spread out over the pillows as he made love to her slowly, but that didn’t help deflate his hard-on at all. Fisting his hand in the sheets, he tried to derail those memories by reciting the Prime Ministers. Macdonald, Mackenzie, Macdonald again, Abbott, Thompson, Bowell. Laurier, Borden twice, Meighen, King, Meighen again, King again, Bennett, King me three. He realized the sounds had faded away and turning to look, he saw Lee spread-eagled, seemingly asleep. There was a slim brunette standing between the beds looking down at Jase.

  “Hi,” she said, biting her bottom lip.

  “Not happening,” he responded, turning his head away. Feeling fingers trailing across his shoulders, he sat up in the middle of the bed, moving away from her. “I said not happening, sweetheart. You should get your clothes back on and head out.”

  She pouted prettily, sitting on the edge of his bed, perky breasts pushed up and out at him. “I could blow you.” She smiled. “I’d like to do that for you.” She shrugged. “Or we could fuck. He kinda passed out. He didn’t…you know.”

  Runni
ng his hand tiredly through his hair, Jase asked her, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Kimmie,” she said brightly, taking his question as interest and easing towards him on the bed.

  Holding up his hand to stop her advance, Jase said, “Kim, it’s time for you to go. I have a game tonight, and if I don’t get some rest…well, I could get hurt. You wouldn’t want me to get hurt, would you?” She shook her head, eyes wide. “I appreciate the offer, Kim, but I need to sleep. So it’s time for you to get your clothes on and head out, eh?”

  When the door finally swung closed behind her, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Looking down at Lee still flat on his back in the bed, he said, “You owe me, fucker.” Yawning, he scooted back into his spot on the bed and slipped into dreamless sleep.

  ***

  “Holy shit,” Lee ground out, wrapping his hands around his head tightly. “Sledgehammer. Has to be what you used to beat me up.”

  “Not a sledgehammer, and you didn’t gain the headache by my hands. If I had to guess, I’d say Jack and Coke. Just a guess by the smell, mind you.” Jase sprawled on one of the chairs by the window. Reaching up, he slowly and deliberately drew on the pull-cord for the curtains, gradually flooding the room with brilliant sunshine.

  “You motherfucker,” Lee said with a groan, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Close those, man. You’re killing me.”

  “Nope, not a chance, Cap’n.” He used the title, emphasizing it. “You’re supposed to be an example, an inspiration. Someone we want to be, not someone we have to clean up after.”

  Tilting his head, Lee squinted a single eye open, glaring at him, “What are you talking about?”

  “Kimmie sends her regards.” Jase held his gaze steadily.

  “Who the hell is Kimmie?” Lee asked, shifting. Evidently, he sensed something wasn’t right, because he reached down and must have encountered the dried remains of his evening’s activities. “Oh, hell no,” he said in shock, squeezing both eyes closed tightly again. “Please, tell me I didn’t bring some chick back to the room.”