The Penalty Box

by Teagan Kade

  Denning places his towel down and starts to dress at his locker. “What is the world coming to when the mighty King brothers have fallen to pussy, huh? Where does that leave the rest of us?”

  I zip up my jeans. “You’ve got your hand, don’t you?”

  Another jeer.

  Denning flips me off, reaching for his shirt from the hanger. “Mrs. Palmer and me go way back but she’s never asked for any kind of commitment.”

  “Do you blame her?” one of the others pipes up.

  Which is followed by laughter all around.

  I’m going to miss these assholes.

  Denning’s smiling to himself. He stuffs his gear into his bag and makes for the door. “Fuck you guys. I’ll see you at the Steam Room.”

  We nod in response, the others finishing up and saying their goodbyes on their way out.

  I’m doing up my shoelaces when I hear the door to the locker rooms swinging open again. “Back for more, Denning?” I call. “’Cause I got more your momma jokes than you’ve got pubes.”

  “I suppose they call that locker room banter.”

  I turn and find Rex Marsden entering the room, two bodyguards fanning out into the corners. I straighten up, body tensing. “What the hell is this? How did you get in here?”

  Rex puts his hands up and approaches me. “There’s no need for alarm, Mr. King. I’m simply here with a proposition for you.”

  I walk forwards to meet him, the bodyguards moving until a raised hand from Rex sends them scurrying back to their posts. “And I am simply telling you to leave, right now, before I get campus security down here and watch them throw your ass out. Honestly, I’d appreciate the show.”

  Rex offers a smirk, but I see the simmer underneath. “All right then. Straight to business.”

  He reaches into his jacket pocket and removes a slip of paper, holding it out. “See for yourself.”

  I swipe the paper from his hand, a quick review showing it’s a check addressed to me, the sum quite significant. I hold it up. “What’s this?”

  “I need you to break up with Linnea. I don’t care how you do it only that she knows you’ll never be a thing, that it’s simply not going to work.”

  Un-fucking-believable. I’m not going to back down. “So, let me get this straight, you’re trying to pay me off to stop seeing Linnea?”

  He remains matter-of-fact. “And they say you Kings are all brawn and no brain.”

  “You’re not helping your cause.”

  His hand goes up again, head bowing. “You’re right. My apologies, but I’d think surely, a King such as yourself would see the opportunity here, make the smart business decision.”

  I shake my head and shirt-front him, sensing him grow uneasy as I inch towards his ugly fucking face. I can’t see anything of Linnea in there. I’m not convinced they’re related, that something so perfect and good could come from something so rotten and vapid. “That says it all, doesn’t it? Your daughter, your own flesh and blood, is nothing but business to you.”

  “She has to see what is right for the family, for the Marsden name. She has to think beyond her own interests for once. That’s her mother’s doing, mollycoddling her and telling her she can do whatever the hell she wants. Look what’s happened!” he fumes.

  I shove him away, bodyguards creeping forward, and slowly, I tear the check into tiny pieces, letting them flutter through my fingers while I watch him. “That was more satisfying than you’ll know.”

  He reaches up and hooks a finger into the collar of shirt, loosening it. “That’s it then.”

  “That’s it,” I reply. “Take Dumb and Dumber there and get lost.”

  He chews on that. I know he’s desperate to get the final word in, but voices outside make him turn and snap his fingers, his bodyguards falling in line as they exit.

  The tension doesn’t ease when he’s gone. I wanted to tear more than that check up just now, but two-on-one wouldn’t have ended well. Rex? I don’t imagine that pearly skin of his has ever been broken.

  He’ll be back. Guys like him aren’t thwarted that easily. He’ll look for leverage, a way to get under my skin. I just need figure out what that is before he does.

  *

  “He fucking what?”

  Peyton is in a rage on the other side of the kitchen counter, storming behind Phoenix and Titus, the latter seems to find it all rather amusing.

  Titus flew in this morning for a surprise visit. He left Maya back in Boston with Amelie, told us he couldn’t resist a short detour from his game in Washington to see the gang. It looks set to be another fleeting visit.

  “And you tore this check up, right there in front of this dude’s face?” he confirms, clearly informed of the situation.

  I nod from the other side of the counter. “Damn straight.”

  The girls are busy with Linnea upstairs. I didn’t want to burden her with this. Not yet.

  “What are you thinking?” asks Phoenix, taking a seat and tapping the countertop. “I could round up the Crestfall boys, go all Clockwork Orange on his ass.”

  I shake my head. “No, nothing like that, but I think it’s best if I keep an eye on him, at least until Linnea and I are safely married.”

  “We,” corrects Peyton, standing behind the other two, the three of them staring at me like strange baby birds. “We’re in this with you, brother. You fuck with one King, you fuck with all of us.”

  “You sure about this?” I ask.

  Peyton reaches past the other two, putting his hand out. “I’m in. Who else?”

  Phoenix places his hand on Peyton’s. “Fuck yeah. I love a good showdown.”

  Titus adds his. “What do you say, Nol? One for all and all for one?”

  I place my hand on top. “All for one—always. Break.”

  “Break,” the others add in chorus, our hands going into the air…

  …Before we all fall into hysterics.

  Titus is leaning on Phoenix’s shoulder. “Fuck me. That was some cheesy telemovie shit. Thank god I’m flying out tomorrow.”

  “Real Mighty Ducks stuff,” adds Peyton.

  “Let’s, ah, never do that again,” says Phoenix.

  “Agreed,” I laugh.

  “Agreed,” the others reply.

  Phoenix stands, clapping his hands together. “Speaking of cheese, who’s up for one of my gruyere tarts?”

  Titus puts his hand up. “I’ll take two.”

  “What, nothing good to eat in Boston?”

  He smiles. “The place is famous for baked beans, bro. I think that says it all.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  LINNEA

  It’s been a whirlwind of a week, but now I’m here, standing at the altar. We opted for a small venue given we only invited close family and friends, but it’s beautiful and open, a large stained-glass window behind me casting shards of rainbow light across those gathered.

  Alissa’s busy to the right, speaking to the celebrant. She’s been incredible, organizing and flitting around town like a madwoman to put this together. We owe her big time.

  Stone’s here in the front row, as is my mother. She looks happier than I’ve seen her in years.

  I’ve got Carrie as my bridesmaid. Phoenix and Peyton are on the other side. I’m always surprised how good the King boys look in suits. They have their hands clasped in front of themselves trying to remain still and serious while we wait for Nolan. We didn’t want to do the traditional walk down the aisle, happy instead to gather together at the altar.

  “You can loosen up,” I tell the boys.

  Peyton exhales. “Thank God. I was starting to turn into a statue there.”

  I check my watch. Nolan’s five minutes late. He’s normally extremely punctual. It’s unlike him.

  Carrie places a reassuring hand on my shoulder, bare given the style of dress Erin helped me pick out. I didn’t want a bulbous ballgown with a hundred yards of lace. I went simple and elegant, the sight enough to send my mother into a ball of tears
. Looking at myself in the mirror, even I had to admit that, hell, there was an actual woman staring back at me with curves and sexy stuff going on. It was…weird. Nice, but weird all the same.

  “He’ll be here,” Carrie whispers. “Don’t worry.”

  Another five minutes and I’m starting to sweat. Doubt starts to seep in, even with all my best efforts to keep it at bay.

  What if he was in a car accident?

  Does he know the address?

  Maybe he’s having second thoughts?

  Maybe I’m going to be abandoned at the altar.

  I swallow and realize my mouth is sandpaper dry.

  Peyton and Phoenix are trying to lighten the mood, but the tension’s becoming palpable.

  Another ten minutes and that doubt starts to turn to anger.

  He’s realized the enormity of what we’re doing and he doesn’t have the courage to face me, to tell me, I think to myself.

  I relay this to Peyton and Phoenix quietly, almost repeating my thoughts word for word, but they huddle in and speak low.

  “He wouldn’t do that,” says Peyton.

  “We know him,” adds Phoenix, “better than anyone. Peyton’s right. Something’s up.”

  Something is up all right—I’m being left here and it’s shaping up to be the most embarrassing moment of my life. Still, I try to find the logic in their words and nod along.

  Then ten minutes pass.

  “We’ll go look for him,” says Phoenix, tapping Peyton in the side with his elbow. “We’ll call as soon as we know anything.”

  “Thank you,” I say, but even those simple words are hard to get out.

  I see Alissa speaking to the brothers on the way out of the church. They leave and she rushes over to me, looks back to the guests. Even her composure is starting to slip. “Let’s get you into the side room while we wait.”

  Carrie joins to usher me away, Alissa saying to the guests, “We’re just going to take a half-hour break, everyone. Canapes and champagne outside.”

  I’m thankful to be in the side room away from everyone. Alissa looks to Carrie. I’ll give you two some privacy, let you know as soon as we have word. She leaves, and Carrie helps me into a chair, squatting to face me. “It’s going to be okay, babe. I promise.”

  “You can’t promise that,” I tell her.

  “Watch me, and if he does stand you up—” she makes a fist, shaking it “—so help me god I will rearrange his internal organs.”

  I can’t help laughing. Maybe it’s the nerves. I don’t know. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a King.”

  She acts shocked. “Girl, you seen me on the court? Do I look like a pacifist out there?”

  “I suppose you are leading the team in personal fouls.”

  She nods proudly. “Damn straight, though I think Coach would prefer otherwise.”

  Silence falls and every second seems drawn out and painful.

  I just want to know what’s going on.

  That’s it. Is it too much to ask?

  “You’re marrying a King,” Christy tells me, back in mind-reader mode.

  “It was never going to be simple.”

  Truer words were never spoken.

  An hour later, with no sign of Nolan, no word on where he could be, we’re forced to send the guests home.

  I’m tired, exhausted in more ways than one. I thought I’d be more upset, but it’s like I’ve come to accept it in a way.

  Carrie offers to come home, but I’ve got my mother, happy to tuck into her like a baby bird on the way home and cry for the first time in years.

  I got out of there as fast as I could, ignored Nolan’s family entirely, poor Alissa’s platitudes, but I just had to go, to get away.

  So, it’s done.

  Stood up on my wedding day and not a damn way to pretend it didn’t happen.

  There’s nothing else to do but forget Nolan and move on—painful as it might be.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  NOLAN

  Rainbows, I realize. Why the hell am I seeing rainbows?

  I lick at my lip. It feels fat and heavy, like a slug attached to my face. There’s grit in my mouth, something hard between my teeth.

  And the world is sideways. Why is the world sideways?

  I push two hands down and lift myself from the ground, immediately regretting it when a wave of hot pain washes over the side of my head all the way down to my neck and shoulders.

  The hell?

  I do my best to take in my surroundings.

  I’m in a tunnel that runs from the Academy parking lot to the street adjacent The Turtle. Someone’s drawn in rainbow chalk on the ground— ‘Vegan: A crazy idea that animals shouldn’t suffer’. There’s a ribbon of blood running through it. I trace it along the ground, up my leg and realize it’s dripping from my head.

  I grunt as I stand, the world swimming back and forth out of focus. When I reach for my head my hand comes away wet with blood.

  I do my best to replay what happened.

  I finished practice, got dressed for the wedding…

  Shit. The wedding.

  I drop to my knees, the pain suddenly twice as intense. I want to sleep.

  “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

  Someone’s got me under the arm, crouching beside me. He’s wearing glasses like Harry Potter, doesn’t appear to be anyone I know.

  “That’s a nasty bump you’ve got there, my friend. What happened?”

  “I…don’t know,” I tell him, words thick and syrupy in my mouth. “I was walking through here and then…” The urge to sleep is overwhelming.

  “Let’s get you to a hospital, hey?”

  The world starts to swim between black and white. Panic fills my head. I’m searching around with my hands, half slumping back to the ground when I notice someone else arriving, a woman.

  She’s trying to talk to me, says something about being a nurse.

  But she’s not wearing a uniform, I think to myself.

  I can’t seem to keep track of time, feel numb and limp when the two strangers help me towards what looks like a cab. They tell the driver to take me to the hospital, but it’s like the conversation is under water, completely distant. There’s an argument of some kind, the driver talking about the blood.

  I pass out before I hear more.

  *

  “Can you hear me?”

  Someone’s shining a light into my eyes and it’s really irritating.

  I try to swat it away. “Yeah, I hear you just fine.”

  “You’re in hospital, Mr. King. You’ve taken a nasty hit to head. Do you understand me?”

  I nod, but it feels like my head wants to fall off my shoulders.

  I reach up and note the bandage in place, take in the hospital room.

  The doctor is young. He points to the table beside me. “We’ve placed your belongings right there, including your cell if you’d like to call anyone.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, mouth dry.

  “I’ll be back shortly to run some tests. For now, just rest, okay?”

  I reach for my cell when he’s gone, dialing Peyton.

  He answers. “Fuckwad, where the hell have you been? You do know you were getting married today, right?”

  “I’m in the hospital.”

  His tone hardens. “What? What happened?”

  Good question. “I wrapped practice, showered, got dressed… I was coming to the wedding… I guess someone attacked me from behind in the tunnel, I think, maybe hit me? Fuck, I don’t know. It’s unclear.”

  “You okay?”

  “My head feels like a fucking cantaloupe, but yeah, I’ll survive.”

  “I’ve seen you checked by a freight train before. You’ll be fine.”

  I hear Phoenix in the background asking where I am, Peyton lifting the phone away from his ear to fill him in.

  “Is Linnea there?” I ask. I don’t know why I didn’t call her first.

  “No, but we can find out where she is, brin
g her down.”

  “I should call her.”

  “I…don’t think that’s a good idea, bro. Let me sweet talk her a bit first, yeah? She’ll understand.”

  I’m too tired to argue. “Thanks.”

  “You need us to bring anything? Reading material, liquor, someone’s head?”

  Even smiling hurts. “We’ll talk when you get here.”

  “Try to stay conscious.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I reply.

  Linnea is the first through the door twenty minutes later. She looks distraught, hand over her mouth.

  “That bad, huh?”

  She comes to the side of the bed, takes my hand. “No, no, just a shock.”

  Peyton and Phoenix enter behind her, standing back while we talk. I expect to see Titus until I remember he flew out this morning.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t make it,” I tell her. “Really.”

  She shakes her head. “No, I am sorry, for assuming the worst.”

  “You really thought I’d do that to you? I can be a real asshole, I know, but…”

  “You can make it up to me.”

  “Hey, if you two are going to get it on we’re out of here,” says Phoenix, pointing between himself and Peyton.

  “You didn’t have to come,” I tell them.

  They approach the bed behind Linnea, Peyton speaking, “And miss out on seeing you lie there looking like an Egyptian mummy? Fuck yes we had to.”

  Linnea’s not in a joking mood. “They said someone attacked you. Did you see who it was?”

  I blink, a sudden jolt of pain pressing me forward from the pillow. “No. They hit me from behind, with something long and hard, I think.”

  Phoenix sniggers, collapsing against Peyton. “Oh, man, wait until we tell your team you were attacked by a flying dildo.”

  I give him the finger. “Keep that up and you will be the one in this hospital bed.”

  “Bro, you’ve never been able to take me. Besides, it’s two on one.”

  Linnea smiles at me. “Two on two, actually.”

  Peyton laughs, nudging Phoenix. “Pretty sure Linnea could kick your ass, man.”

  “Probably,” he concedes. “What is it about all these King women being so damn tough and gnarly?”