Rookie (Seattle Sharks 4)

I nodded, something swelling in my chest, something I’d never had before.

Brothers.

Because that is what the guys had become to me. Closer than blood.

And they wouldn’t leave me hanging in this—no matter how risky it was.

“Why are you two still here?” Coach asked as he headed toward the exit.

Warren clapped me on the back. “Shaking off the adrenaline before he gets behind the wheel, Coach.” He flashed him a smile. “I’ve got him, don’t worry.”

Coach darted his gaze between the two of us, and then nodded. “Go home soon,” he said, a warning in his tone as he walked out of the arena.

I sighed, thankful he trusted Warren enough to leave me with him.

I would’ve sought Archer out even if Coach was here, but it was nice to know he wasn’t in the building.

My position was important to me, my team more so, but I couldn’t rest until this was done. Until I had answers, and hopefully offered Chloe one last piece of closure.

Chapter 18

Chloe

Bailey, Paige, and Nine hadn’t hesitated to support me the second the guys led me through Rory’s house.

They poured me a drink and listened to me explain things when I was finally ready.

The act of telling them everything . . . it took a minute but damn it felt good at the end of it.

But even as Gage and Rory listened from the other side of the living room, it was Bentley who I really wanted to be telling the story to.

He needed to know how lost I’d been when I got in over my head with Archer.

He needed to know that when I’d said yes, it was because I was the shell Archer had worked over a year to create. Worn me down until I thought I was nothing.

And when I woke up, when I realized how far I’d fallen, I gave him the ring back and called it off.

They all knew how well that went.

“Asshole,” Nine said, though she’d already known most of the story.

All the girls had.

“Tonight was about ending it. Putting a stop to the threats and the texts,” I said. “It didn’t go like I planned.”

I flashed my eyes over to Rory and Gage. “I’m sorry.”

They furrowed their brows. “This isn’t your fault,” Gage said as Bailey handed me another drink. “It’s his.”

“But Bent,” I said, pain lancing through my chest.

He’d looked so betrayed. Even in his rage. Like I’d snapped any last tether I’d had to him.

“He’ll be fine—” Gage jolted, his words stopping as he reached for his cell. “Fuck,” he said after reading a text. He quickly showed it to Rory, who hissed.

“What is it?” Paige asked, eyeing Rory suspiciously when he came over to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“Gage,” Bailey said when he did something similar.

“Oh fuck me,” Nine said. “What did Warren say?”

“Rookie is benched until further notice,” Gage said, his eyes sympathetic as they fell on me. “We need to go see him. Talk to him.”

Bailey eyed Gage like she knew there was more to the story, but didn’t press.

I couldn’t sort out all their shared looks because I was too busy trying not to puke.

Bentley.

Benched.

Because of me.

He’d earned more time on the ice tonight than he ever had before. Coach was watching his progress and rewarding him. He was on the fast track to securing a position on the team for longer than a year contract at a time.

And the longer he was on the bench, the odds of him receiving a better contract went out the window.

I’d already cost him so much.

“Chloe?” Bailey asked, her hand on my shoulder.

I blinked out of my thoughts, noticing the guys were already gone.

“I have to make a call,” I said, totally vague as I stood, but I’d explain later.

I was beyond done.

I had to take back control of my life.

My lack of actions had already cost Bentley. I would not continue for one more second—not when it was hurting him.

Holding the phone to my ear, I paced the length of Paige’s living room, grateful they were quietly giving me the space to do this.

Adrenaline surged with each unanswered ring, but I didn’t dare hang up.

Answer, damn it.

“You have some nerve,” Archer said in way of answering. “Calling me after you caused such a scene.”

“Me?” I snapped. “You did this. All of this. If you would’ve just left me alone. Accepted my leaving—”

“Save it,” he cut me off. “I’m growing tired of your attitude.”

“Good,” I said. “Because I have news for you.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes,” I hissed. “Forget going to the cops because I know you’re not scared of that. You’ve got enough money to buy a force if you wanted to.”

He chuckled, that sardonic laugh rose chills on my skin, turning my stomach.

“But what you do value above all things, is your reputation,” I continued. “Your public image. The way your fans fall at your feet.”

Silence so cold I could feel it in my bones.

“You threatened to go to my boss, my new team, and tell them lies about me. Well, I’ll tell the press the truth about you.”

He snorted. “You have no proof of anything.”

“Don’t I?” I asked, gripping the phone so hard my fingers stung. “I’ve saved every text. Every email. Plus, my firsthand account would make for a riveting interview, backing up every single piece of evidence I have.”

“They won’t believe you,” he said, but even I could hear the doubt in his voice.

“They will,” I said, putting every ounce of strength I possessed into the words. “And even those who don’t believe me—it won’t matter. The story will be out there. No one will ever look at you the same again.”

“Fuck,” he snapped.

“You understand me, then,” I said. “That if you reach out one more time—”

“I get it.”

“Not one text, Archer. One email. One call. If you even so much as look at me the next time we play Ontario, I’ll go straight to the press—”

“I said I fucking get it,” he snapped before the line went dead.

I blew out a breath, trembling as I pocketed my cell.

One call down.

Now . . . a meeting.

Because we would see Ontario again, and while I hoped my threat was enough, and that Archer really did understand, I knew what I needed to do.

It hurt, knowing what it would cost me.

But I had to take responsibility for my actions—no one deserved to suffer but me.

Especially not Bentley.

I just hoped like hell Coach would listen to me.

Chapter 19

Bentley

Twenty minutes later Rory and Gage strolled through the arena doors, flanking either side of Warren.

“Where is he?” Rory asked Warren.

No other questions—the whys didn’t matter.

I needed them, and they were here.

Warren motioned his head, and we followed him around the giant circle hallway until we stopped in front of the visitor’s locker room.

I half-expected Gage to block my entry into the room and give me some dad-like lecture on why this was a bad idea, but he didn’t.

In fact, there was a layer of revolution and rage coating his eyes.

Rory’s too, his fists clenched at his sides.

Had Chloe told them something when they’d taken her home?

“She’s at my place,” Rory said, as if I’d spoken the question out loud.

“With the girls,” Gage added.

“Safe.” Rory’s eyes flashed support and sincerity, and my adrenaline shifted from rage to a confident calm.

“Thank you,” I said, and walked through the door.

/> Didn’t take me long to find him.

He was pacing in the small PT office, an icepack to his right cheek and a cell phone held to his ear with his other hand.

The Ontario Coach was long gone, too.

Good.

I didn’t bother knocking, just swung the door open.

“Fuck . . . I get it,” he snapped, not noticing the four of us. “I said I fucking get it.” He dropped his cell, ending the call. “Bitch.”

Was he talking to another woman?

This piece of shit.

“Shit,” he hissed, then finally glanced up at us as we filed into the room.

The guy had the good sense to look scared.

I crossed my arms over my chest, determined not to fly at him.

“We need to talk,” I said, and watched as he tracked Rory, Gage, and Warren’s movements behind me.

They blocked the exit, a wall of muscle, a unified front.

Archer flung the icepack on the table, a heavy sigh tumbling from his lips.

“You planning on ambushing me, Rogers?” he seethed. “For what? A cunt whose lost her flavor? She’s not worth it.”

My jaw clenched, and Rory gripped my shoulder, a silent reminder to stay calm.

To be bigger than this vile piece of garbage.