CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CARTER
I look at the tree-line leading into the woods. There’s a certain silence beyond it I’ve always found peaceful, a muted hollow where even a twig snapping suddenly booms within it.
I see headlights cutting through the trees.
Fuck. Not again.
I grab the shotgun and head out onto the porch. This time those fuckers are going to get a warning shot.
The car stops, a door opening.
I can’t see who emerges the lights are beaming at me so hard, until I hear a voice.
“Carter, wait!” it says—female.
Her.
Wren.
I lower the shotgun.
She ducks back into the cab before closing the door, the cab turning to drive away.
She approaches, lugging a suitcase behind her.
That’s a good sign.
She stops at the bottom of the stairs, looks fucking beautiful. The designer fashion is gone completely. She wears simple jeans and a navy button-down sweater, her breasts, her ass, everything about her casual perfection. I should rush down there, sweep her into my arms, but the argument we had lingers between us, has created a wall I can’t seem to penetrate.
She nods to the shotgun. “Not exactly the kind of welcome I was expecting.”
I turn and place it against the cabin wall. “Sorry.”
She shrugs. “Well, here I am.”
“How did you get past the gate?”
“It was unlocked. Do you want to talk?”
I nod. “For once in my life, I do.”
A dog comes whipping out behind me, barking around Wren’s heels. She reaches down to scratch his side. “And who’s this?”
I nod down at the little Jack Terrier. “Zeus The Second. I needed some company, so…”
She’s smiling. “He’s beautiful.”
I prepare us two coffees inside, take a seat at the kitchen table. “I didn’t think you’d come back,” I start.
Zeus II is curled up on Wren’s lap. She scratches the area behind his head, his tiny face wrinkling and unwrinkling with the motion. “I thought you weren’t a big dog guy.”
“I’m not, but I will be for you.”
She reaches up to hold the coffee with two hands, stares down into the steam rising from it. “You hurt me, Carter. What you said…”
“It was a mistake,” I agree. “Words I can’t take back, and I’m sorry. Truly, I never meant what I said.”
“I’m sorry too,” she says meekly. “I can’t pretend to know what kind of relationship you and David had. Was I upset you knew about the cheating and didn’t tell me? Of course, but I can understand why you maybe wouldn’t want to tell me, that you were jealous I chose David instead of you.”
I want to deny it, purely out of instinct, but I nod instead. “You’re right, but the worst part? I was kind of happy, pleased that your choice was coming back to bite you, and that’s fucking terrible, I know. I’m ashamed, embarrassed. I should have told you. I didn’t, and I’m sorry. That’s all I can say, but…” I take a deep breath, try to impart poetry here, but words were never my strong suit. I speak with actions. David was the one with the power of speech. “What I know now, right now, is that I’ve never been this happy. Being with you, us… It’s better than I imagined, and trust me, I did a lot of imagining inside.”
She gives a small laugh at that.
“You made your choice,” I continue. “But that’s in the past, and I don’t like to bring up the past when I’m trying to plan for the future.”
“What do you mean?”
I shift my chair closer to her. “I mean that I need you, Wren. I can’t live without you. I fucked up. I might again. Who knows? But I do know I want you in my life. Fuck it. I’ll do damn near anything to get you back… if you’ll have me.”
The smile returns. “Did you work on your groveling skills while you were inside as well?”
“Only for extra TV time.”
She plays with the handle of the mug. “Tell me, Carter. Open up to me. What happened in there?”
“I won’t lie,” I tell her. “Prison was difficult. I was the closest thing they had to a celebrity in there, but it didn’t buy me any favors—quite the opposite.”
Wren is concern incarnate. “What happened?”
I keep looking at the woods through the window. I don’t know who I’m waiting for. “The first night three men slipped into my cell. I guess one of the guards left my door open for them. I don’t really know. They were wearing pillowcases over their heads. They roughed me up real good, pounded me for a solid ten minutes or more until my eyes were so bloated I could barely see. I’d taken my share of blows on the ice, but this kind of violence was new.”
“Jesus, Carter.”
“Right on cue, I was approached by another inmate at breakfast. He called himself ‘Tommy,’ said he was a fan, that he could offer me protection on the inside… for a fee.”
“And you paid?”
I nod, ashamed. “I did. I did what I thought best to survive.”
“God, I had no idea.”
“No one does.”
“Did it work? Were you protected?”
“I was, though I learned later it was Tommy’s own boys who beat me up that first night. It was all part of the scam.” I hesitate whether to tell her more.
She needs to know. No more secrets.
“I’ve been approached since I’ve been out,” I continue.
Concern draws her features even tight. ‘What do you mean you’ve ‘been approached’?”
“Men came to the cabin around a week or so ago. They said they were delivering a message from Tommy.”
“A message?”
“That we weren’t done, that the protection payments don’t stop when you’re free; they double.”
The concern is replaced by fear, her pupils large. “They came here, to the cabin?”
“I should have told you, I know.”
“No,” she says. “It’s not that. I’m not worried, but what are you going to do? You can’t keep paying this guy.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
I spin my cup of coffee. “Look, I’ve got to go down to the rink, start my shift. You want to come?”
She smiles. “I’ll grab my coat.”
*
“It’s always so quiet in here after hours,” Wren says, as I pack away the Zamboni. For the last hour she’s sat quietly by the side of the rink smiling, her hands buried in her coat pockets. Stripped of her New York finery, David’s doing, she’s a mirror image of the girl I knew, the free spirit I’ve come to know again, to love.
I climb down and stand with her looking over the rink. “It’s been great for training.”
“I haven’t even asked you how it’s going,” she says.
I snake my hands around her waist, pulling her close to me, enjoying the heat of her body once more. “Training? It couldn’t be better. I think I’m ready.”
“For the NHL again?”
“If Coach Williams will have me. All signs point to ‘yes.’”
“That’s fantastic, Carter. You’re not worried about…”
“What people will say? Not at all. Let them say what they want. I’m going to let my game do the talking. They’ll change their minds once they see numbers on the board. They always do.”
“I’m happy.” She smiles.
“So am I,” I agree.
I lean down to kiss her, for a taste of what I’ve been missing. Even two days was far too long.
The kiss soon turns into more.
Our lips don’t part, my tongue shifting into her hot mouth as I help her remove her coat, sweater, her shirt. She undoes her bra as I lift my shirt over my head, working my pants down.
She pushes me away, laughing, holding her breasts. “It’s freezing in here.”
Her nipples are tawny stubs. “I remember.”