Rookie (Seattle Sharks 4)

Jolts of adrenaline crashed into my already over-pumping bloodstream.

The door slammed, and I was on my feet in a blink.

No thought, just instinct. Ready to finish what we started.

“Sit down, Rogers,” Coach grumbled as he rounded his desk and sat in his chair.

I blew out a breath.

Fuck, I was losing it. I needed to get a grip, and fast.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked after he’d folded his hands on his desk several times like he was trying to control his temper.

I opened my mouth but shook my head.

My girl, my heart, she was . . . in trouble?

She had been, right?

And when he’d spoken to her like that...like some piece of trash, a possession he wanted to control . . .

I’d snapped.

“We won,” Coach said. “I know our rivalry runs deeps with Ontario, but holy hell, Rogers. You helped win this game for us. What the hell happened?”

I raked my fingers through my hair, trying so damn hard to slow my heart, to quell the sting biting every inch of my insides.

I wanted answers, too, but not the ones Coach sought. Chloe should’ve told me whether she was engaged to that asshole or not.

If she was in trouble or scared, she should’ve fucking told me.

After all these years, she still didn’t trust me to help her.

Not true. She said she needed time. Wanted to handle it on her own.

I’d always been supportive of her choices . . . always. But with guys like Archer? Handling it on her own wasn’t an option.

I could tell that much from the way he’d spoken to her, the firm grip he’d had on her wrists, the way her eyes had been ice-cold in terror.

My knuckles cracked as I clenched my hands into fists again.

I half-hoped Archer would be outside the rink, waiting for me whenever Coach let me go.

Let me go.

The words rang through my head, dropping my heart into my stomach.

Finally grounded in the present, I snapped my eyes up to him.

Was he going to kick me off the team?

“He—” I clamped my lips shut and searched for words that wouldn’t get Chloe in trouble. “I have no excuse,” I said, blowing out a breath. “He said something, and I snapped. That’s it.”

Coach narrowed his eyes, scanning my face like he didn’t buy it.

I was a grinder—aggressive on the ice for the sake of my teammates—but I wasn’t the most active fighter. Rory used to be, before he mellowed out, but there were plenty of other guys whose fuses were much shorter than mine.

Coach knew that. Knew it would take more for me to snap than a taunt from an Ontario player. But he wasn’t just any Ontario player.

He was hers.

The one she’d lived with in Canada.

The one she’d said was her only serious relationship since me.

And I fucking hated him for that on principle alone.

But now? Now I wanted to end him. And that scared the shit out of me.

“I told you I was proud of you,” he said, reminding me of our conversation a few weeks ago. “You think I hand that shit out easily?”

I shook my head.

“I don’t. That is earned.” He sighed, pressing his lips into a hard line.

“It won’t happen again,” I muttered, not entirely sure the words were true.

Because what if some other asshole shows up and runs his mouth at Chloe?

Would I snap then?

Would I make them eat their words?

Or was it secluded to the fact that I’d felt Chloe’s fear and it transformed me into a primal beast?

“Damn straight it won’t,” Coach said. “I see a real future for you on this team, Rogers. I’m talking past Gage’s retirement. But I expected better from you.”

Shame rippled inside me, joining the rage pulsing on a low setting.

Sure, I’d let Coach down. But I knew I’d do it again. Because I would always choose Chloe over everything else.

Didn’t matter that we’d ended whatever it was between us.

She was my heart.

Always would be.

“I’m benching you until further notice.”

I flinched, my eyes flying wide.

For one fight? I bit my tongue, refusing to utter the words.

He must’ve read the accusation in my eyes because he said, “I had to deal with too much bad press and small-jail-time with Jackson. I told him the same thing—if he didn’t straighten out, he’d be gone.”

My brows raised. I remembered the season Rory’s anger had gotten the better of him—outside the rink as well as in—I just hadn’t realized it had been that bad.

“And he pulled his shit together,” Coach continued. “He realized how important this team . . . this family was to him. Cut the boyish shit out. Got a lock on it.”

Boyish shit.

This wasn’t that.

If Coach knew—if he’d seen how scared Chloe was—if he knew how much I loved her and heard what that prick said to her, he wouldn’t be so angry with me.

There was a code among us—you don’t fuck with someone else’s girl.

But if she was engaged to him then technically I broke the code.

Fuck.

A headache formed behind my eyes, my jaw aching from the lucky hits Archer had landed.

The truth begged to be freed—let Coach know I wasn’t acting like a child. This wasn’t about some rivalry.

But if I admitted to it—Chloe would lose her job, her bonus, and her mother would lose everything.

Not to mention I’d lose my position, too.

Fucking hell this was such a mess.

This is why I wrecked us. Put an end to it.

So that she would be protected.

But I couldn’t protect her from what I didn’t know.

What she kept from me.

A low rumble resonated deep inside me, but I swallowed the war cry.

Now I knew.

I knew enough, and while I couldn’t have her, couldn’t claim her as my own, I could do something.

“This family is important to me,” I finally said once I was certain the rage had cleared from my tone. “It won’t happen again.”

At least not where anyone could see.

Because I wasn’t letting this go.

Not until I’d finished it.

“Good,” Coach said. “Get your head straight and prove it to me. Then we’ll talk about getting back on the ice.”

I nodded, rising at his dismal.

My heart sank—I’d worked so hard to earn the time I’d recently been given on the ice. Not an easy feat when Gage was my competition.

I flew through the locker room door, stomping into the hallway, my anger ratcheting up again.

“Whoa.” Warren’s hands were on my chest, stopping my beeline for the parking lot. “Bentley,” he said, using his entire body to halt me.

I huffed. “Did you see where he went?”

Warren shook his head, but I saw the lie in his eyes. “You don’t want to do that, bro.”

“I assure you, I do.”

“What did Coach say?” he asked, trying to distract me.

So, Archer was still close.

Good.

“I’m benched until further notice.” The words stung to say out loud.

Warren flinched but quickly smoothed out his features. “You’ll be back on the ice soon,” he said. “As long you don’t do something stupid. Something you can’t come back from.”

I rolled my neck, the anger rippling off me in waves.

Lowering my voice to a whisper, I cut my eyes to him. “What would you do if it was Nine?”

He narrowed his gaze.

“I don’t know the full story and maybe it’s not my fucking place. But I know Chloe, and she was terrified of this asshole. She’s the strongest woman I know, and I know she can handle herself . . . but fuck, Warren. What would you do?”

Warren dropped his hands from my chest, rubbing his palms over his face. “Fuck,” he hissed, but made no step to move.

“I’ll try talking,” I said. “I swear. He just needs to know he’s fucking with the wrong girl.”

My girl.

“Damn it,” Warren snapped, holding up his finger while he pulled out his cell phone. After a fast text, he pocketed it again. “Wait.”

There was an order to his tone I didn’t fucking care for.

“Get out of my way, Kinley.”

If he wouldn’t tell me where the prick was, I’d search every inch of the rink, the parking lot, and then resort to stalker levels to track him down.

I’m sure there were a few bunnies following him—I’d start with the ones I knew. Call them until I got a lead.

“I will tell you where he is,” Warren said, drawing me out of myself. “If you wait.”

“For what?” I snapped.

“For backup. Alibis.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “No one fucks with our family.”