The bar was surprisingly crowded, the noise level louder than the one other time she had been here. Which, of course, made sense, since it had been early afternoon the last time she was here.

They were seated at the same grouping of tables, though, tucked back in the corner, far enough away from the main crowd that there was at least a semblance of privacy. Not that anyone could have a private conversation, not with the noise of the crowd and the band.

And it wasn't like she had anyone to talk to. She was seated with her back facing the wall, in between Jason and the older guy a few of the players jokingly called Pops. Aaron, she thought his name was. He was quiet, his eyes holding the kind of gaze that let people know he'd been around for a while, had seen and done things nobody else had experienced.

At least, nobody else seated around them.

And he was quiet, almost too quiet. Like he was lost in his own thoughts as he stared into the half-empty mug of beer in his hands. Not rude, not at all. He had offered her a smile and shook her hand when Jason introduced them. Even engaged in some casual and brief small talk at first.

Unlike Jason, who promptly seemed to forget she existed as soon as he sat down next to her. She probably shouldn't blame him, though, not when he was occupied with his new girlfriend.

Her gaze slid around the table, briefly studying each face before moving on. Battered and weary. Battered and excited. Battered and tired.

Battered and disappointed.

She caught Tyler's eye, offered him a quick smile. His lips moved, the corners of his mouth briefly curling up when he looked at her—and disappearing just as quickly when he looked away. She swallowed a sigh and dropped her gaze to her own beer, wondering again how long Jason planned to stay here. Wondering again why Tyler looked so miserable.

The Bombers had won, despite losing their lead halfway through the third period. Tyler had let in two more soft goals, which had nearly cost them the game. Jenny understood his disappointment, understood probably better than most why he seemed to be distancing himself from the rest of the guys sitting around the table. He was no doubt cursing himself, questioning his ability, still convincing himself he was second best.

She wanted to go over to him, sit down next to him and wrap her arms around him and tell him to stop doubting himself. Tell him he wasn't second best. He'd let in a few soft goals. So what? It wasn't the end of the world. It didn't mean he wasn't any good.

But she couldn't do any of that. Jason would totally freak out if she did. And even if she decided to take her chances, it still wouldn't matter because she doubted Tyler would even be able to hear her, not over the sound of the band playing.

And yeah, the band kind of surprised her. She hadn't realized Mystic's was the kind of place that would even have a band—especially not a country band. Not that there was anything wrong with country music—Jenny happened to like country music. She was just surprised that the rest of the crowd seemed to enjoy it just as much. There was even a nice little group of people in the middle of the floor, laughing as they bumped into each other while trying to figure out the moves of a line dance. It was one she actually knew. Okay, one of a few she actually knew, not that she'd admit that to anyone even if her feet were moving through the steps under the table.

She sighed and took a quick sip of her beer then looked around again. The loud music and noise from the crowd didn't seem to stop a few of the guys from talking to each other. Or maybe yelling was a better way to describe the conversations. The more she looked, the more she realized that she was only one of a few not carrying on a conversation with anyone.

Her. Aaron. Tyler.

And Zach, who was sprawled in a chair at the end of the table, his long legs stretched out in front of him, a scowl etched onto his rugged face.

Terminally constipated.

Jenny had to bite back a smile at the memory of Haley's description. Maybe the other woman was right, because Zach certainly looked pissed off. Of course, he was probably pissed because of Haley. The two had started bickering about something soon after getting here, their irritation with each other vibrantly clear. Haley had poked Zach in the chest and said something that wiped the teasing grin from his face. Then she had disappeared several minutes later, a worried frown on her face as she stared at the phone in her hand.

Should Jenny say something to Zach? Tell him what she had seen at the game? What could Zach do if she did tell him? The two of them weren't together, even Jenny could see that. But she could also see that there was something there, something lurking beneath the surface, ready to erupt. And God help anyone who was nearby when it happened.

But if she didn't tell Zach, who could she tell? Because she had to tell someone, she couldn't just stay quiet. Jason? She glanced over at him then mentally shook her head. No, not Jason, not with the way Megan had tried to distract her at the game. Maybe it was only because Megan didn't know her, didn't trust her yet—which Jenny mostly understood. Kind of. But what if it was something more than that? What if Megan was trying to help Haley hide it? She didn't want to think like that, couldn't let herself actually believe that—and she didn't, not really. She didn't know Megan or Haley, she couldn't just jump to conclusions about them.

But she couldn't stay quiet, either.

Her mind made up, Jenny pushed away from the table and made her way over to Zach. She noticed Tyler watching her, saw the curiosity in his gaze as she leaned closer to Zach. She shook her head in Tyler's direction, tried to give him a silent message that she'd explain later. Did he understand? She couldn't tell, and she couldn't worry about it just now.

Zach looked up, his frown easing just the tiniest bit. She leaned closer, her mouth close to his ear so he could hear her. "I need to talk to you."

"What's up?"

"Not here." She nodded toward the door. "Outside."

He hesitated, his dark brows pulling low over his eyes. The scowl deepened and he glanced around, then looked back at her. "What is it, Jenny?"

"Oh my God, you're as bad as Jason. I'll tell you when we get outside." She didn't give him a chance to ask any more questions, just reached down and grabbed his hand and pulled. It was like tugging on dead weight. She frowned and pulled on his hand again, barely budging him. "If you don't come with me, I'll tell everyone what you did that one time."

A look of horror crossed his face and she had to bite back a smile. She had no idea what was going through his mind, no idea what he thought she might know—which was absolutely nothing. But this was Zach, it was a given that he had done something he didn't want anyone to know about. Let him think she had dirt on him—as long as it got him to move, she didn't care.

And move he did. He shot a panicked look around the table then pushed out of his chair, grabbing his black leather jacket at the last minute before she led him toward the door.

Cold air slammed into her as they moved outside, making the breath catch in her lungs. The night was quiet, broken only by the deep bass line of the music inside. The temperature had dropped in the last hour or two, the air heavy with a damp chill that sliced straight into her bones. Tiny snowflakes swirled around them, glistening in the exterior lights that sliced through the darkness. Had they been calling for snow? Jenny didn't know, didn't really care. She dropped Zach's hand and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she had thought to grab her own jacket before coming outside.

Zach took one look at her, rolled his eyes, then thrust his jacket toward her. "Put this on before you freeze to death. And tell me what the hell's going on. Why did drag me out here?"

She shrugged into the heavy leather coat. It was at least three sizes too big but she didn't care. Its heat was already wrapping around her, along with the faint spice of whatever cologne Zach wore. Great, now she'd probably smell like Zach. She'd have to take a shower when she got home because ewww.

Zach jammed his hands into his trouser pockets and hunched his shoulders tight around his neck. He bounced on his toes a few times, no doubt trying to stay warm himself. "Start talking, Jenny."

"It's about Haley."

Zach stopped bouncing, his eyes focused on hers. Wary, cautious. Maybe a little disbelieving, just like his voice when he finally spoke. "What about her?"

Yeah, there was definitely something there alright. She took a deep breath and looked around, making sure they were alone. Then she took another deep breath, her gaze not quite meeting Zach's. "I, uh, I think someone is maybe hurting her."

Silence stretched between them for a long minute. Longer, even. Long enough that she suddenly questioned her wisdom in telling him anything. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. Maybe she was butting in where she didn't belong. Maybe she really was rushing to conclusions.

Another thought rushed her, one that made her stumble back in shock. No, absolutely not. Zach wouldn't hurt anyone. Not like that. Yes, he was big and gruff and looked tough. Even acted tough out on the ice, his play physical and aggressive. But despite the perpetual scowl, despite the dark scruff that covered his jaw and the tattoos that covered his body, Zach was a teddy bear. He'd never hurt anyone, especially not a woman.

Jenny sucked in a quick breath, the cold air burning her lungs, and raised her eyes to his. A muscle twitched in his clenched jaw, the always-present scowl deeper now. Dangerous. He kept watching her, anger flashing in his eyes. And when he spoke, his voice was as cold as the night air. Low, tight, oddly controlled.

"Hurting her how?"

"I—I'm not really sure. I just..." Her voice trailed off and she looked away from the intense ferocity in Zach's eyes. "She had bruises. On her arm."

"What kind of bruises?"

"The kind you get when someone grabs you. Hard. Like this." She grabbed Zach's arm, her hand wrapping around his forearm and squeezing once. She released his arm, her eyes darting back to his. "Only harder. And a lot of them. Old and new, like it's happened more than once."

"What did she say about them?"

"Nothing. She was hiding them. The only reason I saw them was because her sleeve got caught on the seat at the game."

"And she didn't say anything when you noticed them? Nothing at all?"

Jenny shook her head, misery weighing heavy on her shoulders. "No. She pulled her sleeve down and tried to act like I didn't see them. And when I tried to ask, Megan changed the subject and—"

"Megan? She knows, too?"

"I—I'm not sure but yeah, I think so. Maybe."

"Son of a fucking bitch." The words were low, fierce, filled with anger. Jenny's shoulders slumped, uncertainty filling her.

"I—I wasn't sure who to tell, or if I should tell anyone or—"

"No, you did good. I'll handle it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet. Something—"

"Zach, don't do anything stupid. That's not why I told you."

A small smile curled one corner of his mouth. Cold, calculating. Deadly. "I never do anything stupid, Jenny. You know that."

"Zach—"

"Come on, let's get back inside. It's too cold for you to be out here."

"Zach—" She didn't get a chance to finish because Zach grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together as he led her back inside. The band was still playing, the crowd on the dance floor dancing along in a two-step. Jenny threw a longing glance at the dance floor as Zach led her back to the table, his hand still wrapped around hers. He finally released his hold and pulled her into a bear hug.

"Thanks Jenny-Benny. I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Positive." He dropped a kiss on her cheek then stepped back as she shrugged out of his coat. Zach looked around the table, a quick grin flashing across his face as his eyes rested on Aaron.

"Hey, Aaron. Take Jenny for a spin around the dance floor. My girl wants to do the two-step and you're the only one who knows how to do that shit."

"Zach, I don't—"

He turned, dropped his hands on her shoulders and gave her a quick smile. "Go. Have fun. And stop worrying. I told you I'd handle everything."

"I'm not—"

Zach cut her off again, this time by pressing a kiss against her forehead. And then Aaron was standing there, offering her an apologetic smile as Zach nudged them toward the dance floor. She hesitated, not knowing what to say. She didn't want to dance, not with Aaron. But how could she say that when the man was standing there, waiting on her? And Zach wasn't even paying attention anymore—he was leaning over, his fisted hands resting against the table as he said something to Jason.

No, not Jason—Megan. Jenny couldn't hear him but she knew from the expression on Megan's face that he wasn't talking about the weather. Jason started rising from his chair, only to drop back into it at one hard look from Zach.

And oh God, what had she done? Zach was ready to go on the warpath and she was the one who caused it. She should say something, should try to explain—

Except the look Jason shot her way told her not to come near them. To not even think about coming near them. Was he angry at her? He wouldn't be, not if he really understood, not if he had seen what she had. Maybe she should—

"Let them deal with whatever's going on. Getting in the middle won't help." Aaron's voice was low, comforting. She glanced over at him, not trying to hide her building worry.

"I think I just made things worse."

"Whatever it is, I think Zach has it under control. Come on, let's dance. It'll take your mind off things." He offered her a quick wink then placed his hand in the middle of her back, leading her into the throng of dancers. She tried to smile, wondered if it looked as stiff and awkward as it felt. If it did, he was too much of a gentleman to say anything.

Jenny settled next to him, getting into position for the dance. She threw one last glance over her shoulder, wondering what Zach was doing. Her eyes caught Tyler's instead and she stumbled, her heart slamming against her chest at the expression on his face: sorrow, disappointment, regret.

She lost sight of him as they moved around the dance floor, craned her neck to look once more when they finally made it back to the place where they started.

It didn't matter, because Tyler was gone.