“What do you want to know?”
“Me first,” Meredith hurries to speak before the others. “Serious Marc kind of freaks me out, but I’ve seen him be serious with you. Is it weird?”
“I’m not sure if I follow. I mean, he’s a goofball, sure, but not 24/7. Not even half the time, I don’t think.” They’re all looking at me like I’m an alien. Is it really that hard to believe that Marc isn’t cracking jokes all the time? Is he that different with me? And if so, is that a good thing or a bad thing?
“Yeah, he’s a completely different Marc around Lizzy,” Sylvia confirms. “I could tell from our dinner together that he’s a great boyfriend.”
The arena fills with some loud cheers from some of the spectators. The Pittsburgh team scored. The guys could really use a win. They lost the home game and the away game against the Mustangs, so it’d be nice if they could win tonight.
“Marc doesn’t know I’m here,” I blurt out.
The girls whip their heads toward me. “What?” they ask in intervals.
“He asked me to come, and I told him I wasn’t, so he doesn’t know I’m here. I feel a little bad because it was the second time he asked me to come and I said no. Now I’m here and he doesn’t know it. What if he goes straight home instead of up here?”
“He won’t,” Meredith reassures me. “He almost always comes up here with Noah. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll text Noah and tell him to make sure Marc comes with him.”
“No, that’s okay.” If he normally does, then let’s hope he will.
Theresa brings up the fashion show, which is coming up soon, and I focus on the game while they talk about it. The Rebels aren’t playing well. It’s really that simple. Passes aren’t good. There’s countless turnovers. They aren’t quite as fast or physical as the other team. The only thing they have going for them is a few shots on goal when they manage to have the puck in their possession long enough to do something with it.
My senses zoom in on nineteen. Marc and a Pittsburgh player seem to be shoving one another on and off as they skate down the ice. I glance up at the jumbotron to check out how much time is left on the clock. When my eyes fall back to the ice, Marc is throwing punches with the guy. What in the hell happened? My eyes are back on the big screen and Marc looks pissed. Seeing the fight is what triggers the panic attack.
My breath quickens, imaginary blood coats the ice, and I’m thrown back to the day Roger died. He started so many fights. My throat tightens and I squeeze my eyes closed. The urge to vomit is sudden and overwhelming. My body feels weak. I sway in my seat. The crowd hoots and hollers, cheering on the fight. God, when will it end?
“Come on,” I hear Sylvia’s voice as I feel her grab my wrists to pull my hands away from my mouth. Keeping my eyes closed, I let her lead me out of the room. She hugs me and shushes me, which makes me realize I’m crying. All I can see in my head is the last fight Roger was in, mere minutes before he died. He was brutal in a way that scared me because I’d never seen him like that, but it was my fault he was as angry as he was. “You’re okay, Lizzy. You’re okay. It’s okay. Marc is fine, too. Breathe in and out slowly. You’re starting to hyperventilate.”
I focus on my breathing to calm down, but the memories have me rattled. “I don’t know if I can go back in there,” I whisper.
“That’s okay, too. Do you want me to stay with you?”
I shake my head and force her to go back inside to watch the game. I walk about three feet from the door and sit down on the floor, leaning against the wall. My heart pounds in my chest. The panic is still circulating in my system. I fold my arms over my knees and wait, hoping that maybe I’ll be able to return to watch the game while somehow knowing that I’m not walking back into that room tonight.
God, it’s like I’m back to square one.
“YOU MIGHT HAVE to hold Meredith back. Between the black eye and busted lip, she won’t be able to resist me because I’ll look like a bad boy and women love bad boys. That in combination with me being her favorite Rebel, and she won’t be able to control herself.”
Rams shoves me, making my shoulder brush against the wall as we walk toward the box where Meredith awaits. “Shut the hell up, Marco. Once we’re married, I’m demanding you stop this shit.”
“Oh, come on. You’d miss it. Meredith would miss it and—” I stop as I see Elizabeth standing by the railing across from the box with her arms wrapped around herself. Without a second thought, I leave Rams behind to go to her. She said she wasn’t coming. Her head turns and then I see red rims around her eyes.
“Marco,” she whispers.
“Polo,” I whisper back, wrapping my arms around her. “What happened?”
She shakes her head. “How was the game?”
“Lost. We’re going to the bar; want to come with us?”
“Yes.” Her hand slowly rises and carefully touches my lip and around my eye. That’s when it clicks for me. Or, at least, I assume she’s standing out here because of the fight I was in tonight. Scotty said Roger was getting into it with everyone during his last game.
“I’m okay.”
“I know.”
“Are you?”
“Trying to be.” Her hand falls as Noah and Meredith come from the box.
“Are you guys coming?” Meredith asks.
“Yeah,” Elizabeth answers. “We’re coming.”
I want to ask her if she’s sure, but that sounds like a bad idea. She’s already answered, so she must be sure. There’s an awkward silence as we walk out to the parking lot and I realize it’s because I’m quiet. This is usually the part where I make a joke. Tonight, I’d ask how hard it is for her to resist me, but I haven’t because Elizabeth seems off and flirting with Meredith to annoy Noah isn’t going to happen.
I follow Elizabeth to the bar. I take it as a bad sign that she orders two shots to start with. Tonight must’ve fucked with her more than she’s showing. Scott and Sylvia are next to arrive and Scott frowns when he sees the two empty shot glasses and Elizabeth glancing around for the waitress to order more alcohol. When she doesn’t see one, she gets up and walks over to the bar.
“What happened with Lizzy?” Scott asks me.
“She watched some of the game like the rest of us and was doing great,” Sylvia answers. “But she had a panic attack that hit her hard when she saw the fight.”
Which means I was right. My eyes search the bar for Elizabeth. She’s sipping on a margarita and talking to some guy. What the hell? She doesn’t look like she’s dying to get away; she’s actually talking animately with him. Does she know him? She sets the drink on the bar and hugs the guy.
“Who is that with Elizabeth, Scotty?” I interrupt his current conversation with Sylvia.
He turns to look, but they are still hugging. “Can’t tell.”
“That kind of looks like Tucker, doesn’t it?” Sylvia asks.
“Oh shit,” Scotty mutters as they pull apart. “That’s him all right.”
That makes me stand. “Who is Tucker?”
“Roger’s best friend. We haven’t seen or heard from him since he died. I don’t think Lizzy has either.”
Tucker says something that makes Elizabeth burst into tears and then, they’re hugging again.
“This might push Lizzy over the edge. I can’t believe that fucker. He’s going to disappear and then all of a sudden talk to her in a bar when he sees her?” Scott is standing now too. The moment Tucker walks away, leaving Elizabeth hunched over the bar clearly looking defeated, Scott goes to walk over to her, but I move faster and stop him.
“You can stay.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Marco?”
“I said you can stay. It’s not your fucking place anymore, Scott, so back the hell off. I’m here to take care of her. You can sit your ass back down because I can guarantee you, between the two of us, it won’t be you she’s going to want for support.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but Sylvia grabs h
is arm and tugs him back. I don’t wait any longer to argue with him. He pisses me the fuck off with that shit. It surprised him that she talked to me. We apparently aren’t the same thing as him and Sylvia and now, when Elizabeth needs someone, he thinks he should be the one to go to her? Fuck that!
She’s my girlfriend. I don’t give a flying fuck that she’s his sister-in-law. She’s mine. Mine to care for. Mine to look after. Mine to be there for. He’s done those things since Roger died, but he can take a step back. He no longer needs to be her go-to person because I am and I swear to all that is holy if he steps in front of me one more time, I’m going to punch him in the throat.
With a deep breath, I release the anger. I place a hand on Elizabeth’s lower back, startling her.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” I say as I take the seat next to her. I’m facing her with my knees apart. Elizabeth stands, steps into the space between my knees, and slings her arms around my waist as she rests her head on my shoulder.
“I did. Roger’s best friend, Tucker, is apparently here. He saw me and wanted to catch up, I guess. Tonight must be a night of flashbacks.”
“Excuse me?”
I glance over at the sound of a girl’s voice.
“O.M.G. You are Marc Polinski! Can I get a selfie with you?”
Elizabeth stiffens in my arms. It’s brief, but she does it. She pulls away before I can stop her. I take the selfie with the girl and the moment she turns her back, I pull Elizabeth back into my arms.
“Do you want to go home?”
“And let this margarita go to waste? No.”
“What happened with Tucker?”
She shrugs and sips more of her drink. “He just wanted to apologize for disappearing on me because we were friends too. He and Roger were close, closer than Roger and Scott, and his death was really hard on him. He’s felt guilty about it. He said it didn’t feel right to reach out after what he had done, but once he saw me, he had to say something. I’m glad I saw him, but I hate it, too. I’m glad you’re here, though.”
“Tell that to Scott,” I mutter.
Elizabeth pulls back. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” I answer with a shake of my head.
“No, I tell you stuff. You tell me.”
“He aggravates the shit out of me when it comes to you. It’s like he still thinks you’re the same Lizzy when he doesn’t see how you’re my Elizabeth. He thought he should’ve been the one to come over to check on you once Tucker walked away.” Elizabeth frowns. “Same exact thing I thought, and I had to argue with him. I get why he does it, and it’s good that he does, but not if I’m around, there’s no need. He doesn’t fucking see that. I swear, he doesn’t see that I’m capable of being there for you.”
“Cut him some slack.”
“What?” She can’t be serious.
“You don’t know everything, Marc,” she says quietly. “He’s taken care of me for the past six years; sometimes, he had to because I didn’t do it myself. He’s not going to stop overnight just because you want him to, even if he should. Please, keep doing whatever you’re doing, but don’t let it get to you too much. Don’t be mad at him for taking care of his family.”
Holy. Fuck. There’s shit I still don’t know? Important things that cause Scott to basically hover like he has and be like he’s been? How much more is there? I sigh and give in. “Only because it’s you.”
She smiles. “Thank you. I feel better now.”
“Let’s get back to the table, then.”
Scott looks annoyed, but I ignore him for the most part, even though while I talk to Meredith, I hear him ask her if she’s okay. Of course she is because otherwise, we would still be hanging at the bar or we’d be going home. If Elizabeth would let me in on whatever secrets she has left, maybe he’d finally shut the hell up because then that would be proof that she trusts me completely and therefore, so should he.
“Are you even listening to me, Marco?” Meredith asks.
“Of course. You said that you think Noah is an asswipe because he isn’t as charming as I am.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “I said that you and Lizzy should come over for dinner sometime.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure. We can do that.” I lean in to whisper, “Ask her to bake something. You won’t regret it, promise.”
“Will do.”
“Good. Rams treating you decent? I can no longer offer my services if he isn’t, but you could stay with me and we’ll spread some wild rumors to make him jealous. Or, I can beat some sense into him, but that might be hopeless.”
“Marco, leave my woman alone,” Noah orders, pulling her closer to him.
“Why? Did you overhear her plans to leave you and try to steal me from Elizabeth? I’ve told you before that you should be concerned over her having the hots for me.”
“Leave them both alone, Marc,” Elizabeth says, slipping her arm around my elbow. “Even if you were single and Meredith wasn’t with Noah, she still wouldn’t want you.”
Noah laughs loudly and it’s probably because my girlfriend just slammed me and is on his side without saying so.
“You hush. You don’t know anything.” I kiss her real quick. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” I remind her.
She shrugs unapologetically. I glance around the table, noticing for the first time that Z is here. He didn’t sustain a concussion from the hit, which is good, and he’s making more of a presence for himself on the ice. What shocks me the most is that Ian is also here.
“Bruiser, what are you doing here? You might combust or something from not being wherever it is you usually go when you’re not with us.” Not everyone knows that he goes to see his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend and doesn’t know he lives in North Carolina, and I’d rather not be the one to spread the news.
“Couldn’t go there tonight, so decided to come here.”
“We love being your second choice.”
“Better than third or fourth,” he says.
Elizabeth’s hand starts running up and down my thigh, moving toward the center of my lap with each glide upward. Her margarita glass is empty. This girl and alcohol always brings out her need for sex. “Let’s go home,” she whispers in my ear.
I wave down the waitress to pay for Elizabeth’s drinks. If she doesn’t stop brushing against me, I’m going to have to pin her arms to her sides to restrain her because she’s going to start the fun too early.
“We’re heading out,” I announce a few minutes later once I’ve paid, stood, and have taken her hand.
“She doesn’t need to drive,” Scotty says.
“I’m fine,” Elizabeth answers as I reply, “Wasn’t planning to let her.”
Two shots and a margarita in forty-five minutes? No, she isn’t driving. Elizabeth is a lightweight. We’ll come get her car in the morning. Despite what she said, Elizabeth doesn’t put up a fight as we say goodbye and walk out to my truck. She sits in the middle seat next to me and tries to get her hands inside my pants to stroke me, but I have to keep shooing her hands away. The last thing I need is that kind of distraction while driving.
“You’re no fun,” she pouts.
“We’ll have plenty of fun once the truck is in park. Safety first.”
That cracks her up. “Okay, okay.” She finally stops and rests her head on my shoulder.
When we pull into my driveway, my headlights pass over a figure on my porch. My body locks up and I’m tempted to put the truck in reverse and leave.
“What’s wrong? Marc?”
I shift into park. “Stay here. Better yet,” I unbuckle, open the door, get out, and grab her thigh to pull her into the driver’s seat. “Leave. I’ll call you when you can come back.”
“What? You just said I couldn’t drive and now you want me to drive your truck? What’s going on?”
“My father is fucking standing on my front porch, Elizabeth, and I don’t want you here for whatever is about to happen.” I buckle her in.
“Now get the hell out of here and be careful. I’ll call you when I can.”
“Marc,” she protests so softly, I almost change my mind.
“No, Elizabeth. Go the fuck home.” I slam the door and wait with my arms crossed for her to put the truck in reverse and back out of the driveway before I turn and face the nightmare waiting for me on my front porch. God, I hope she’s sober enough to drive home, but she can’t stay here. My skin crawls the closer I get to him; there’s no way in hell I want Elizabeth anywhere near him. He can be so unstable and I don’t know where his head is at. She doesn’t need to be here. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s no way to greet your father,” he says. “Who was the girl?”
“None of your business.”
His jaw tightens, and that’s all the sign I need to know he hasn’t changed. He may be showing restraint, but he’s ready to pop me in the jaw for that. “You guys lost tonight.”
“You didn’t fly all this way to tell me how I’ve fucked up in the game lately. Why are you here?”
“We can’t go inside? It’s cold out here.”
“No.”
His eyes narrow. I don’t care that I can see the curls of air from his breath thanks to the light from the road. We can both freeze to death. Besides, it’s not that damn cold. I could use something more than my suit jacket, but I’m not shivering just yet either. I wait him out with my hands in my pockets and my eyes on his.
When I was a kid, I was terrified to look into his eyes. They were often hateful, sometimes crazy looking, and he’d rather I keep my eyes downcast than look at him head-on anyway. To look him in the eyes was a challenge to his authority. Sometimes, it still bothers me to do it because when I do it now, it’s out of defiance. To show him that I can do it and appear to have no problem doing so. Sometimes, I feel guilty about it. He took care of me in his own way, whether it was a good one or not, when he could’ve given me up. Often, I wished he had. But he didn’t and for some reason, I feel like he deserves some credit for that.
“I want to move here,” he finally says.
He has to be kidding. Is he looking for approval from me? He’s not going to get it. There’s no way I want my father to live in the same country as me, much less the same town.
Because It's You (Carolina Rebels Book 2) Page 19