Rookie (Seattle Sharks 4)

Or, Archer could follow through on his threats, and I’d lose my signing bonus, lose my job, and Mom would lose the traction she’d gained.

Fuck. My. Life.

My heart was barely cinched together by threads.

“Who have you let between your legs?” he hissed. “Who have you let touch what is mine?”

“I’ve never been yours.”

A dark laugh tumbled from his lips. “Oh, that is where you’re wrong, Chloe.” He tsked me. “I’ve been inside you. I know what it feels like when you come. What you look like when you’re sleeping. You said yes. You are mine. You always will be.” He sighed, his finger idly tracing the rim of his coffee cup like he hadn’t just uttered those terrifying and wrong words.

Adrenaline surged through my blood, my hands trembling.

“You don’t own me. I don’t want to be with you,” I said. “I will never be yours.”

He laughed again.

He’ll never let it go.

Fear coiled inside me, chipping away at my already overly sensitive nerves.

This meeting was pointless.

In fact, from the way his eyes studied me, patient and cold, it looked like he expected me to take one look at him and fall at his feet. Beg him to take me back. Take me home to Canada.

Well, he was fucking wrong.

Because my home was here.

With the Sharks.

Where my mother was safe and healthy and cared for.

“I can’t believe I thought you’d actually see reason.” I scooted back in my chair. “That you’d realize we weren’t meant to be together. And that me leaving was permeant, not temporary.” I moved to stand, but his hand flashed out, gripping my wrist so hard I winced.

“I’m not finished talking to you yet.”

“Let. Me. Go.” I tugged on his grasp, unable to break free.

Panic clawed up my throat—those dark eyes never flinching, no remorse as he knew he hurt me.

“Archer,” I said, hating that my voice borderline begged. “Let go.” I clawed at his hand with my free one, but he simply secured it with the other, both my hands now pressed against the table.

I whirled my head around, searching for the barista, another patron, someone who could help. But the place was empty.

“You will listen to me,” he said, that tone so calm, so calculated. He’d never had to raise his voice before, why start now? “This little trip has gone on long enough. You promised yourself to me. And I will take what is mine.”

Tears filled my eyes—anger coating my skin like flames.

“I’m not yours,” I snapped, yanking my arms against his hold so much they barked in protest.

“You are—”

“Chloe?” Bentley’s voice was this side of angry as I snapped my eyes up to his.

His bag slung over his shoulder, Warren, Gage, and Rory hung back a few feet behind him.

“Bent,” I whispered, relief unleashing inside me.

Except, he was staring at where Archer’s hands held me, and he couldn’t see.

Couldn’t tell that it was painful, that it was unwanted.

“You’re interrupting something,” Archer said, barely glancing at Bentley. “That’s rude, Shark.”

Bentley ground his teeth, tilting his head at me.

I shook my head, panic rippling over my body.

“Chloe,” he said again, his tone wary, testing. “Can I talk to you a second?”

“No,” Archer answered for me.

“She can speak for herself,” Bent snapped.

The trio took a few steps closer to him, hearing the strain in his voice.

“It’s not nice to try and steal my fiancée away,” he said, and my eyes clenched shut, the pain pulsing around where his gripped tightened.

“Your what?” Bent hissed.

“Bent, please,” I said, my words clipped from the pain.

Archer slashed his eyes from me to Bent and back again. “Is this him?” he seethed. “Is this the piece of shit you let between your legs? Let take a taste of my cunt.”

I yelped from the force when he clamped down on me before he shoved me back so hard I nearly flipped out of my chair.

“Fuck you say?” Bentley’s voice was raw, primal rage.

In an instant, he hurled himself into Archer, taking him down, the table and coffee crashing from the blow.

Then Gage’s arms were around me, lifting me from the seat I was frozen to. He carried me to Warren, who held most of my weight while I leaned against him, useless and shaking.

Rory and Gage flanked Bentley, but didn’t pull him off Archer.

No, they let the pair scramble on the ground.

Hit and punch and crack and smack.

I flinched and cried out when Archer somehow gained the upper hand, his fingers going for Bent’s neck.

God, he would kill him.

But Bentley was livid and massive.

A wild, feral animal as he thrashed, landing a firm blow to Archer’s temple.

Stunned, he went down, toppling off of Bent in one clunky move.

Bent didn’t stop, didn’t let up, as he pounded his fists against Archer’s face.

“Bentley!” I screamed, not because I gave two shits about Archer, but because I didn’t want him to cross a line he’d never come back from.

Wiggling free from Warren’s grasp, I pushed past Rory and Gage’s attempts at calling Bent off, and I dropped to my knees enough to catch those rage-filled eyes.

“Bent, please,” I said, tears in my eyes.

Something broke inside him, and he scrambled backward, off of Archer, who was regaining his solidity after the stunning hit.

“You,” Bentley panted, standing, his knuckles cracked and bleeding. “You’re engaged to this asshole?”

I shook my head and stepped toward him. “No.”

He retreated from me.

Like I was the threat.

Gage and Rory were there, a hand on his chest, his shoulder, urging him back.

“This,” he spat, pointing at Archer who was shoving himself to a sitting position, spitting blood on the floor. “This is what you were hiding. That you had someone waiting for you in Canada. That you were engaged?”

I choked back a sob, the adrenaline and fear and heartbreak shaking my brain.

“No,” I said. “I mean, yes, this is what I kept from you. But, Bentley, I ended it before I moved here. He won’t stop—”

“What in the blue hell?” Coach’s voice cut me off as he rounded the corner, the vein in his forehead already popped out and throbbing as he took in the scene. “Rogers! My office, now.” He glanced at me before flipping out his cell phone and typing something extra fast.

Bentley shook off Gage and Rory, his hands curled into fists as he stomped past me, never once looking back.

Five minutes later, Ontario’s coach was there, hauling Archer out of sight.

He, thankfully, didn’t look at me either, and I had to wonder if tonight’s events would finally make him leave me alone, or if it only made him want to sink his claws in further.

“Chloe,” Gage said, a gentle hand on my shoulder, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Come on. We’ll drive you home.”

I swiped at the tears on my face.

“I want to wait for Bentley.”

Gage tucked me into his side, Rory sticking close to my opposite side, Warren leading the way.

“We both know that isn’t a good idea,” Gage said, and eyed Warren.

He nodded and said, “I’ll wait for him.”

I sighed, knowing they were right.

Knowing I’d somehow made things worse between us, broken us more than we already were.

In a matter of minutes.

I’d ruined us.

The exact moment I’d been trying to free myself enough to become his.

Defeat and exhaustion and regret unfurled within me—so quick and stark my vision fuzzed around the edges.

So, I let

Gage and Rory walk me to the parking lot and tuck me into the backseat of Gage’s SUV.

My throat was so raw from crying, I couldn’t find my voice. Not even when they’d bypassed the exit for my place and continued on to Rory’s.

“The girls are there,” Gage said. “Think you could use some time.”

Chapter 17

Bentley

Engaged?

Knuckles raw and split and itching from the blood, I stomped to Coach’s office, shaking from rage.

Her secret.

Perhaps the real reason why she wanted to keep us a secret.

The reason she was so accepting when I’d broken us both and bid her farewell with one last night together.

Fucking hell.

I sank into the seat on the other side of Coach’s desk, my head in my hands as I tried to catch my breath.

No.

It didn’t make sense.

She hadn’t looked happy . . . she’d looked . . . terrified.

Or was it simply because I’d caught her that she looked scared?

No.

I knew Chloe.

Knew her like I knew my own heart.

She’d been panicked.

Like all those times I’d caught her by surprise, cell phone in hand.

Flashes—his grip on her. Her eyes wide and filled with tears. The way she screamed my name when all I saw was red.