A Dose of Pretty Poison: Chapter 13

What do you do when another team does an interview and talks shit about yours? When their recent luck goes to their head, making them obnoxiously cocky, and you’re determined to make them regret it? That’s simple. You all agree to come in for a couple extra practices.

Coach stands at one end of the ice with a stopwatch in his hand, timing each of our speeds. He’s been writing them down to compare where we were when we started to how we are now, and I don’t think there’s a single one of us who hasn’t improved.

Well, except maybe Aiden, but he’s basically a glorified water boy anyway. Still a valued member of the team, just not someone we’d put in at the final hour of a timed game. Or even the final hour of a game we’re winning by three points.

“All right,” Coach says. “I’m definitely happy with these results. Cam, you upped your speed to what Hayes’s was originally.”

Cam purses his lips and nods. Attaining my speed has always been one of his goals. He’s just never figured out how to do it—until Laiken.

“H!” Coach barks. “You’re hitting times a whole three seconds faster. If you were to race Laiken now, I think you’d give her a run for her money.”

Yeah, fat chance of ever getting her to go near me willingly again.

He goes over the results for each of the guys. Some are doing great; others could use some more improvement. They probably spent the time during Laiken’s lesson following along but believing they didn’t actually need to know any of it.

Fucking idiots.

“Lucas.” Coach stops and shakes his head. “Somehow, you managed to get slower. How the fuck did that happen?”

The rest of us chuckle while he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Coach. Maybe I need some one-on-one lessons from Baby Blanchard. I’m sure that’ll teach me.”

My whole body tenses at the thought of what he’s insinuating. Lucas hitting on Laiken is nothing new. He’s been doing it for years. But now, I want nothing more than to check him into the boards hard enough to cause whiplash.

Cam rolls his eyes. “One of these days I’m going to convince her to get a restraining order on you.”

Now that’s an idea I could get on board with.

“Aw, come on,” Aiden argues. “Are you saying you don’t want me to be your brother-in-law one day?”

This motherfucker is going to get me on probation for aggravated assault if he keeps it up. Then again, I probably wouldn’t be as lucky as Cam. I’d end up in prison—spending my nights dreaming of conjugal visits with the girl I can’t have.

A bark of laughter shoots out Cam’s mouth. “Dude, I wouldn’t even let you marry my fourth cousin twice removed.”

Lucas looks offended. “Now that’s just mean. You’re fucking with my destiny.”

“Don’t hold it against him,” Owen chimes in. “Cam not wanting you in his family has nothing to do with why you won’t be marrying Laiken.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demands.

Coach pinches the bridge of his nose. “It means Laiken wouldn’t have you, especially if you keep referring to her as Baby Blanchard like some kind of pedophile. Can we get back to business now?”

The look on Lucas’s face is priceless—like he just had all his hopes and dreams stomped and spat on. Owen puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles.

“It’s all right, dude,” he says. “She’s just out of your league.”

Cam snorts. “She’s out of all your fucking leagues. None of you stand a chance with her, and even if you did, I’d never let it happen. My sister is off limits to every single one of you dipshits.”

If that’s not a sign from the damn universe, I don’t know what is. Over the years, Cam has gotten increasingly annoyed with the guys hitting on her. Once, when she was the subject of locker-room talk, he damn near put Owen through the wall. Looks like Lucas might be next—unless Cam finds out what I’ve done.

I NEVER IMAGINED THERE would be a time I would even feel slightly uncomfortable at Cam’s house. Not after the years I’ve spent here. The last thing I want to do is disrespect Laiken, and being here when I know I’m on her shit list feels like disrespect. But when Cam asked if I was coming back to his place for video games like we normally do, I couldn’t think of an excuse quick enough.

So, now I’m sitting on the couch, playing video games.

Their parents left shortly after we got here to go have dinner with a couple friends. They tossed Cam some money for pizza and told him to tell Laiken when he orders it, and out the door they went. That and the fact that her car is in the driveway is the only reason I know she’s in the house.

Maybe she came downstairs and when she realized I was here, took off back upstairs. I mean, if she hates me to the point where she never wants to be around me again, I can’t say I’d blame her. But damn, it would suck.

“I’m going to grab another beer,” I tell Cam. “You want one?”

He picks up his can off the coffee table and shakes it. “Yeah, I’m low. Thanks man.”

“No problem.”

I go into the kitchen and open the fridge, looking for where Cam put the beer. Just as I spot them, tucked away on the back of the second shelf, I hear a cough and a sniffle coming down the stairs. My head whips around, and when Laiken’s eyes meet mine, she freezes.

Her nose is red and irritated, and the blanket that’s wrapped around her is a clear indication that she’s sick. It looks like she tied her hair up yesterday and never fixed it after she woke up, with the way the bun hangs to the side of her head. And the most infuriating part is how fucking gorgeous she still manages to look.

Congested and miserable should never look that damn good.

“Can, uh…” She pauses to cough. “Can you hand me a bottle of water?”

I nod and grab one, putting it on the island for her to grab.

“Thanks.”

It’s the first time we’ve talked in three days, and it feels like getting to take a quick breath after nearly drowning. But knowing it’ll be short lived is like being shoved right back under.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She waves it off as she takes a sip of water. “I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

My brows raise. “It’s almost June.”

“It’s probably from the weather changes.” She stops and then hums. “You should know all about that, being an expert on bouncing between hot and cold.”

Her words hit dead in the middle of their target, and I wince at the way they hurt. My intention was never to hurt her or play with her feelings, but that doesn’t change the fact that it happened. And all I want to do is make up for it.

“Lai,” I breathe, but anything else I was going to say is gone as Cam comes into the room.

“Are you hungry? I think I’m going to order pizza.” He stops and looks at Laiken just as she tears her eyes away from me. “Oh, hey sicky.”

“Careful,” she taunts him. “I’ll go upstairs right now and cough on your pillow.”

He grabs a menu out of the drawer and puts it on the counter. “Does Mom know she gave birth to a demon?”

Laiken smirks. “Yeah. She talks about your labor all the time.”

There’s no way I could fight off the smile that comes. Even while she feels like shit, she’s a total spitfire—making you regret every word that leaves your mouth.

It would just be nicer if I wasn’t also on the receiving end of it.

THE RINK IS PACKED with fans. It’s usually a full house, but this is next level. There aren’t enough places for everyone to sit. After Beaufort’s interview, the whole town wants to see us show them who’s boss.

We’re all in the locker room, getting ready and making sure our mindset is on point. If there’s anything we do best, it’s this. We might not always get along, but when it comes to proving that we’re the best team around, we band together. That’s what happens when you’ve all been playing together for years.

I look around for the playbook, wanting to go over it one more time, but it’s nowhere to be found. And neither is Cam for that matter.

“Owen,” I get his attention. “You seen Cam?”

He nods toward the door. “He stepped out for a minute.”

“Did he have the playbook with him?”

“Sure did.”

Ugh. “Thanks, man.”

Every single game, Cam leaves the locker room for a minute to see his family. His parents wish him luck, and Laiken makes a comment about how she hopes he falls on his face. It’s basically become a tradition at this point.

I grab the handle and pull the door open to go find him, but all the air is instantly sucked out of my lungs the second I step out.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Laiken is standing there with Mali and Cam, looking every bit like regret personified. Her hair is curled, and the light dusting of makeup Mali must have done for her accents her already breathtaking features.

I let my eyes move lower, and I bite my lip when I see the way her white top stops just beneath her tits, leaving her stomach exposed. The belly button ring shines in the light just above where her jeans hug her body in all the right places. The whole thing put together makes my damn mouth water.

The locker room door begins to open behind me, but when I notice it’s Lucas, I quickly slam it shut again. If he sees her looking like that, he’ll pop a boner, and then I’ll be forced to slaughter him and paint the ice red with his blood.

It takes everything I have to keep my eyes off her and my jaw off the floor as I approach Cam.

“Hey,” I say, clearing my throat. “Can I have the playbook? I just want to go over a couple things before we head out there.”

He nods. “Hold up. I’ll join you.”

As he turns back to the girls, they each give him a hug and Laiken does her typical thing of backhandedly wishing him luck. And then she’s gone, without saying a single word to me. Thankfully, Cam doesn’t even notice and heads back into the locker room while I watch her walk away.

She has me eating my words like a five-course meal.

HOCKEY IS ONE OF the few things I pride myself on. After using it as an outlet when my dad walked out on us, it became the most important thing in my life. It’s the one thing I’ve always been good at, and there’s never been a time where my head wasn’t in the game—until tonight.

We all filter back into the locker room after the first period, every one of us needing the break that the intermission provides us. We may be winning by two, but it’s not nearly the massacre I was hoping it would be. Every person on the ice has been giving it their all.

“What’s up, man?” Cam asks as he fucks with something in his locker.

I shake my head and exhale. “I don’t know. It’s just not my night, but I’m trying.”

It’s a much safer option than the truth. I’m distracted by your sister looking like sex on legs is not something that would go over well.

He takes his phone out and hands it to me, the interview on the screen. We both watch the video we’ve seen over twenty times and listen to the way they talk their shit—acting like we’re just a speedbump on their way to the championship.

“Imagine what they’ll say if they actually beat us,” Owen says.

And he has a point.

Under no circumstances can we lose this game, no matter how hard it is to stop picturing kicking everyone out of here and fucking Laiken on every surface of the place.

Standing up, I hand Cam back his phone and grab my helmet. Luckily, everyone else is pumped up. We’re winning, and as long as we can keep this momentum, their undefeated streak will end tonight.

But as I walk out the door, the sight in front of me has a better idea—murdering their fucking captain.

Laiken has her back against the wall and a flirty look on her face while he leans over her. My teeth grind together, and the only thing I want to do right now is rip him away from her and knock him the fuck out, but I can’t.

What right do I have to do that? She’s not mine.

Forcing myself to keep my eyes straight, I let my stick take the brunt of my anger and walk past them. But that doesn’t mean I don’t put my eyes on her the second I get back on the ice.

I hate every goddamn thing about this.

The way he has all her attention locked on him.

The way he plays with a strand of her hair.

The way her whole face brightens as she laughs at something he said.

I’m not a possessive person. A girl once tried to hook up with Cam to make me jealous, and all it got her was me tossing him a condom and telling him to have at it. But watching her with him feels like I’m living in my own personal hell.

Mali goes over to get Laiken, and for a second, I’m relieved, but when he hands her a small piece of paper, all I can see is red.

Both teams get back on the ice, and everyone takes their seats again as it’s time to face off—and I’m up against none other than Mr. Flirt himself. We stand across from each other with the ref to the side of us, and my rage twitches at the way he looks over to smile at Laiken.

“Hey,” I growl. “Keep your eyes on the ice.”

He scoffs. “The fuck is your problem?”

“As long as you stay the fuck away from her, I won’t have a problem.”

The sarcastic chuckle that leaves his mouth is the last thing he should do, and when the puck drops, only for him to immediately shove me, all bets are off.

My stick falls to the ground as I come back swinging. Usually fights in hockey have at least a few seconds of dancing around each other, but not this one. I rip his helmet off his head and toss away one glove to make sure he feels every bit of my fist slamming into his face.

He tries to fight back, landing a few punches, but it’s nothing compared to the beating he’s getting. And when I grip his jersey and take him down to the ice, the ref just blowing a whistle isn’t enough. He has to pull me off him.

The two of us skate off to our respective penalty boxes, and it isn’t until I sit down that I see her. Mali looks impressed, but Laiken is far from it as she rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

Whatever. Add it to the fucking list of things I’ve done wrong.

I don’t care.

I THOUGHT THAT WAS it. That I’d get my anger out by bloodying him up a little. But I was wrong. So drastically wrong.

Shit hits the fan after the second intermission. I should feel great. They may have managed to get another goal in, but we raised our lead by two more points, making the score 7 to 3. If we can’t win by a shutout, this is the closest thing to second best. But when we all head back out to the ice, the rage that explodes inside of me is enough to light the whole fucking world on fire.

Laiken is sitting in the bleachers with Mali and her parents, but she’s no longer freezing her ass off in the white top she was wearing before.

It’s so much worse than that.

She’s wearing his fucking jersey.

Every rule I have of giving her space and keeping myself away to respect her boundaries goes right out the window as I skate over to her and bang on the glass. Mali laughs as Laiken’s gaze locks with mine, watching me wave her toward me. She steps down off the bleachers and stands on the other side of the glass.

“Take that shit off,” I roar.

She’s anything but impressed. “No.”

Wrong answer. “I mean it, Laiken. Take it the fuck off or I’ll cut it off you.”

The corner of her mouth raises slightly, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “My drink spilled, meaning if I take this off, I’ll literally be sitting here in my bra. Is that really what you want?”

Fuck. She has a point. But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stand around and let her look like she belongs to him. That will happen over my dead body.

Getting off the ice, I go into my locker and grab the backup jersey I have hanging in there. I grip it tightly as I throw the door open again and bring it over to Laiken, passing it to her as I stand off to the side of the bleachers.

Her brows furrow as she holds it up and looks at the back. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not staking a claim on me or whatever it is you’re trying to do. Go get me one of Cam’s.”

Yeah, that’s not happening. “It’s that or the bra, and you may be ballsy, but you’re not the type for self-humiliation.”

She gives me a look that rivals the one she had in surf shop. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Yep,” I answer. “And I’m glad you’ve figured that out. Now, hate me all you want, but take off his fucking jersey.”

There’s no chance for her to argue it further as I walk away and get back on the ice. And when I glance over at her again, she may be pissed off, but she’s doing it while sporting my number on her back.

THE THIRD PERIOD STARTS up, and it’s not long until I’m back up against the dude who must be looking to die today if the smirk on his face is anything to go by. We’re in their zone, with the chance to score again if this play goes the way we’d like. But as we wait for the puck to drop, he just can’t help himself.

“You think I won’t still fuck her while she’s wearing your jersey?” he asks, his grin turning smug. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to let you know how her pussy feels.”

It’s not my fault.

My actions are not my own.

And the way my stick flies into his face, slicing through the flesh near the corner of his eye, is not something anyone will ever get an apology from me for. Honestly, he’s lucky that’s all I did.

His glove instantly covers his eye, and before I can go after him further, the ref gets in between us and holds me back.

“Go get that checked out,” the ref shouts to him and then turns back to me. “Good job, tough guy. You just got yourself thrown out of the game.”

Maybe that was his plan. After all, the only chance they have at winning against us is to get rid of one of our best players. It wouldn’t surprise me if after the last period, they decided to play dirty. I may have played right into his hand but fuck it.

It was worth it.

I shove the ref’s hands off me and skate off the ice. Coach shakes his head as I pass but he does nothing to stop me from going into the locker room. Every single person on my team knows that now is not the time to try talking to me.

My blood is still boiling as the door shuts behind me. I rip off my helmet and throw it across the room, no doubt scratching it up and making me need a new one. Fuck staying for the rest of the game. The guys have it under control. The best thing I can do for everyone right now is get the hell out of here.

I sit on the bench and rip off my skates, low-key wondering if the blades are sharp enough to slit the guy’s throat.

Yeah, like I said…

I need to get far away from this place.

I manage to get my uniform off, and I’m pulling up my jeans when I hear the door open. My whole body goes still, not even having to look to know who it is.

The tension that vibrates between us is enough to know.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” she asks.

I refuse to look at her. “It’s hockey. Fighting happens all the time.”

The only way I’m making it out of this room without doing something else I’ll inevitably regret later is by acting like it wasn’t about her, even though we both know that’s not the case. Call it plausible deniability.

“And the jersey?”

I scoff. “You can’t wear the opposing team’s jersey at one of our games. Don’t let it go to your head.”

She huffs out a laugh, not believing a word coming out of my mouth. “And what about this?”

Finally turning around, I see her holding up the same small piece of paper from earlier, with his phone number scrawled across it.

“You mean to tell me it had nothing to do with this?”

I drop my head as I chuckle, knowing there’s not a damn thing I can do now. The moral compass she told me to shove up my ass goes right out the window, and not a single ounce of self-control is anywhere to be found.

There’s no stopping me anymore.

“You really think he’s what you want?” I question, my voice low as I walk slowly toward her. “You think he can make you feel the way I did? Make your whole body shake when you cum?”

Her throat bobs as she swallows, but she doesn’t dare say a word. All she can do is stare back at me as I reach her. Slipping the lighter out of my pocket, I don’t look away from her for a second as I light the paper on fire.

As the heat reaches her fingers, she lets it go and watches it fall to the floor—turning to ash as it burns on the tile. I take her chin between my thumb and the knuckle of my index finger and turn her gaze back to mine.

“He can’t, and I won’t even let him try.” I keep her in place as I move in until my lips are right against hers, feeling the heat of our breath mixing together. “Because you’re fucking mine.”

And the small space between us disappears as I kiss her in a way that throws us both into the abyss.