CHAPTER TWENTY
Crosby
I rolled out from under my sheets and placed my bare feet on the floor. I dropped my face into my hands and sat for a long time. I’d barely slept. So many emotions ran through me. Tonight was a huge night for me, but all I could think about was the video. And the revenge I wanted to exact on Jeremy and whoever helped him.
I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and my heart clenched. A text from Sabrina was on the screen. Hope you’re feeling better. I’m so excited 2 see you play 2nite. Good luck!!
I knew I wouldn’t see her today. It was her hectic day with back to back classes and a lab, so she clearly wanted to be sure her text covered everything she would’ve said in person. Even if we could’ve found time to meet up, I would’ve made up an excuse to avoid her. I was too much of a coward to face her. To look her in the eyes, knowing what I knew. And, knowing Sabrina, she would’ve known something was wrong. She would’ve grilled me until I told her something.
Again, I didn’t text her back. Instead, I searched online for the video and called Xavier to see if he found anything. Neither of us had, which enabled me to breathe—at least for the time being.
* * *
I stormed into the locker room. My teammates were in various stages of dress. Some taped their sticks, some laced their skates, and others finished padding up before Coach’s pre-game speech. And, while I’d been dealing with the guilt and anger of a video hanging over me like a guillotine ready to drop, they didn’t seem to have a fucking care in the world.
Screw that.
I dropped my bag on the ground. The thud reverberated throughout the room. Eyes cut to mine as I glared at them, my body quaking with rage. How many had been involved? How many had been there to record Sabrina and me? How many of them had the video? The scathing look on my face told them what my words didn’t have to. I. Was. Done.
Their guilty eyes evaded mine. Jeremy was the only one with the balls to look back at me.
Xavier stepped out from the bathroom in his shoulder pads. His wide eyes locked on mine. The subtle shake of his head said something I couldn’t read. Did he want me to wait until after the game to unleash my rage? Was the coach nearby?
Well, I had news for him—for all of them. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was taking this one lying down.
I flew across the room, grabbing Jeremy by the throat and slamming him into the lockers behind him. “Erase the video.”
“What?” he choked out.
“I know you have it.”
“What are you talking about?” His eyes flashed from side to side, desperate for his buddies to intervene. They didn’t.
I turned to look at their stunned faces. Did they think I was a pussy who was gonna deal with their shit lying down forever? Fuck that. The second Sabrina was brought into it, I wanted to rip all their heads off. “Did you and Sabrina have fun over break?” I said, reminding him of his words.
His eyes shifted back to mine and the sides of his mouth twitched.
“You messed with the wrong guy,” I assured him.
“Careful.” He lowered his voice so only I could hear. “You have no idea what I’m truly capable of.”
I stared at him with so much ire I could taste it. I wanted to humiliate him the way he’d humiliated me. I wanted to hurt him the way he was hurting Sabrina and me. My grip tightened. If I just squeezed a little harder…
“Crosby,” Xavier said from somewhere nearby.
His voice snapped me out of it. And as much as I despised Jeremy, hurting him would only give him a reason to release the video.
“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath. As much as I wanted to rip him to shreds, I couldn’t risk the video going viral—or me being kicked off the team.
I. Was. Fucked.
I relaxed my grip and stepped back
Jeremy groped at his throat, the red outlines of my fingers a testament to what I could’ve done to him. But he had me. And we both knew it.
With my emotions raging inside me, I turned to the bench holding my teammates’ pads. And with one long swipe of the arm, I sent them flying all over the room. As my teammates stood frozen around the locker room, I grabbed my bag from the floor and my pads, cup, and stick from my locker and got the hell out of there.
I needed time to calm my anger—and my nerves. I wasn’t one who got nervous easily, but I had a scout there to see me play. This was my shot to break out from the dark cloud my parents had brought over me. This was my chance to start over. To make money of my own so I never needed to depend on anyone else again. This was my chance to finally achieve my dream—despite assholes like Jeremy trying to stop it from happening.
I suited up in a nearby bathroom and walked out just as the team exited the locker room, following Coach to the entrance of the ice. One after another my teammates skated onto the ice. I stepped into the back of the line and skated onto the ice last.
Within seconds, alarm bells began to wail in my head.
An unfamiliar numbing sensation warmed my balls, becoming hotter as I moved around the ice. From warm to hot, heat spread out to all parts of my groin.
Oh, fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck.
Icy hot!!!!
In my cup.
I’d heard it was a killer, but no one ever dared to do it to me. Why would they want their star player out of commission?
But I wasn’t dealing with my past teammates. I was dealing with fucked up guys like Jeremy who were jealous of my skills.
I did the only thing I could, given the current pain I was enduring. I fought the agony, circling the ice to the music blaring and lights flashing. Suddenly, everything began to blur and swirl, as if I’d taken some type of drug. My face pulsed with heat. My heart drummed faster in my chest. Sweat beaded around my hairline, down the back of my neck, then every-fucking-where. I shook my head, trying to clear the haze as I fought to push through it, but the burning became worse. The harder I skated the more it flamed. I needed to jump around. I needed to—
Fuck. Shit. Dammit.
There was no way to focus with my dick on fire. Being on plenty of teams in my life, this prank happened once a season. And the kicker was water intensified it. So even though the inclination was to jump in water, it would’ve made it worse.
I needed to rip off the cup. I needed to be rid of the pain.
But I needed to play.
I closed my eyes, willing the pain away, but all it did was glaze my eyes with tears. Some of my teammates watched me. Did they know what had been done to me or did I just look like I was having a panic attack?
I glanced to Sabrina who sat in the front row with Finlay, bouncing in her seat. She was so excited to be there. So excited the scout was there for me. Little did she know, my body was burning up and there was no way I’d be able to play the way I needed to in order to impress that scout.
She smiled and waved as I skated by them. I couldn’t smile—for a growing number of reasons. I just skated over to the bench. The coaches spoke to each other, likely discussing last minute changes before they relayed them to us. I knew better than to interrupt them. But the urgency of my situation trumped it.
“Coach?” I shouted over the music as my teammates continued warming up on the ice.
He turned to look at me. “What is it, Crosby?”
“I need to hit the showers.”
His creased eyes conveyed his confusion. “What?”
“I need to hit the showers.”
“There’s a scout here to see you play and you’re telling me you need a shower?”
“I’m having a problem with my—”
“Stick,” Jeremy said as he skated over.
My eyes narrowed on him. “Fuck you.”
“Wasn’t me everyone saw you fuck,” he said with a condescending grin.
“You son of a bitch.” I launched myself at him, shoving him as hard as I could into the boards.
He bounced off them. “Careful, Parks,” he warned as he righted himself on his skates.
“Crosby!” Coach grabbed the front of my jersey while his assistants held Jeremy back from me. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
I yanked free from him. “Ask him.”
Coach glared at me. “I asked you.”
My eyes shot away, my anger and pain at a breaking point.
“Scout or no scout,” Coach growled. “You’re not starting.”
I didn’t even care. I took off toward the locker room, needing to do something to ease the fucking pain, but Coach grabbed my arm. “Bench,” he ordered.
At that point, tears pooled in my eyes as fire had overtaken my lower half. I wanted nothing more than to prove I could handle anything thrown at me, but I couldn’t handle this. This was fucking torture.
I dropped down onto the bench hating that Jeremy was getting exactly what he wanted.
My chance at the pros was slipping away with every second I sat there. A sex tape was seconds away from going viral. And my dick was likely to shrivel up and fall off.
My team took the ice, and the game began. I glanced over at Sabrina who shrugged her confusion and mouthed, “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. Nothing about it was okay. My body was on fucking fire. I could barely even sit still.
A few minutes in, our opponents called a time out and Coach ordered me onto the ice. I hopped up and skated out. Every move burned like a motherfucker. Pain throbbed in my dick. A heat I’d never felt before had spread down to my legs. I could barely see through my glazed eyes as the puck dropped. I felt like I was seeing underwater. I couldn’t follow the puck. I could barely hear a sound. The pain was too great. I moved around the ice, hoping the puck magically found its way to my stick. It didn’t. I wasn’t even in position to make a shot if it had. At some point, a whistle blew, and Coach beckoned me off the ice.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he screamed in my face.
“Icy hot on my dick.”
His eyes flared. “Jeremy?”
I shrugged, which just made him angrier.
“Go,” he pointed toward the locker room. “I’ll deal with you later.”
I took off for the locker room, not glancing back at my team, Sabrina, or the crowd where a scout who held the key to my future sat somewhere wondering why the hell he’d even shown up.
Once I reached the locker room, I stripped down and practically ran into the showers. The water couldn’t have done much worse than the pain I was feeling. If anything, the soap might’ve helped slightly. I scrubbed as much of the stuff off as I could, but it had absorbed itself into my skin. And even if I did feel well enough to go back out there, my cup was covered in the stuff.
“Crosby?” Sabrina called.
I stepped out of the showers with a towel wrapped around my hips, my dick still pulsing. “What are you doing in here?”
The pain in her eyes mirrored the pain in my body. “What’d they do to you?”
“Jeremy,” I explained as I sat down on the wooden bench. “Put hot gel inside my cup—or at least had someone do it.”
She clasped her hand over her mouth and dropped down beside me. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve never felt pain like this in my entire life.” I lowered my head, letting my wet hair block out the sight of her beside me.
“Are you okay now? Can you go back out there?”
I shook my head. “It’s too late.”
“Too late? You’ve got a scout here to see you play.”
I tunneled my fingers through my wet hair. “He probably already left.”
She jumped to her feet causing me to glance up at her standing over me. Disgust shadowed her face. “So that’s it? You’re just giving up?”
I shrugged.
She crossed her arms with anger radiating off of her. “What’s really going on, Crosby?”
“What do you mean?”
“This is your dream. You don’t just give up on a dream because some jealous teammates mess with you.”
I closed my eyes, unable to bear her disgust. I wanted to tell her the truth. Wanted to come clean about the video, but what the hell was I gonna say that would make it all right. Jeremy clearly had the upper hand. This stunt proved he could do whatever he wanted with no repercussions. I was damned if I ratted him out and damned if I didn’t.
“So, you’re not going back out there?”
I shook my head.
“You’re wussing out?”
My eyes opened and locked on hers. My motives sat at the forefront of my brain, my explanation on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m not stupid Crosby. I know there’s more to it than some immature hazing.”
I said nothing.
“Tell me the truth,” she pleaded. “Stop lying to me.”
The clenching in my jaw intensified as I stared at her, knowing she was slipping away. Knowing I was letting her slip away.
“Talk to me, God dammit.”
My heart hammered away in my chest, but the words just wouldn’t leave my lips.
She stared at me, a mix of frustration, hurt, and anger marring her features.
I shrugged, which was such a feeble and spineless response. Especially, when she deserved the truth.
“That’s not an answer.”
“That’s all I’ve got.”
“And if that’s not good enough for me?” she asked.
“Then I’m not good enough for you.”
She tilted her head and shot me the same sympathetic look she gave me when she realized I’d spent Christmas alone. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I need you to trust me,” I said, my eyes straying guiltily from hers.
“Do you trust me?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Then prove it. Tell me what’s really going on.”
I sat for a long time, wanting to talk, but so incredibly scared to.
“Is this about the draft?” she asked. “Are you worried you’ll lose your chance if you talk? Because I’ve gotta say, what could be worse than what just happened?”
I released a long breath, the type reserved for impossible situations. “I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing.”
Her subsequent silence sat so thick in the room you could’ve cut it with a knife. What was she thinking? What did she see when she looked at me now? A coward? A fool?
“You deserve better than me,” I said, looking her straight in the eyes.
Her face scrunched. “Bullshit.”
“Everything I touch goes to hell.”
“I’m not gonna let you sit here and throw a pity party for yourself. You need someone who’ll tell you the truth. Tell you when you’re being stupid. You’re being stupid.”
I blinked a few times, the sting of her words much kinder than I deserved. But I didn’t respond.
The silence in the room grew.
The distance between us grew.
The reality of what was happening—what I was letting happen—grew. Sabrina knew it and I knew it.
“Don’t do this to me, Crosby,” she said.
I said nothing as my eyes drifted away from hers.
“Don’t be who I thought you were.”
Her words crushed me, almost as much as the sound of her footsteps trailing out of the locker room and out of my life. And as much as it killed me to sit there and let her go, I knew she was better off without me.