Chapter 17
Tank
I push the boys as hard as they can go. We’re a few games into the season and while we are still undefeated, I know we can do better. After all, those chicks that Sophie decided to beat up think I’m not good enough so I’m going to bust my ass until I prove them wrong. Not just those bitches but every last fucker who doubts me will soon be taught a lesson.
Tank fucking Meyers is here to lead the L.A Storm to victory and come the end of the season, not one person will doubt my skill again. I’ve got this shit in the bag.
I push myself to the absolute limit as I put the boys through some sprints. I shoot up the length of the ice, keeping my puck firmly in my sights before my blades cut through the ice and create an avalanche of ice as I come to a sudden stop, only to turn and push myself back up the other end.
My strides push me ahead of the other guys and I hear their desperation as their blades cut through the ice as they try to keep up with my limits.
“Alright, boys. Bring it in,” Coach finally says.
We all come into the centre of the ice and instantly drop down to one knee. The rink is silent apart from the boys heavy panting as they try to catch their breaths. I look around the circle of guys and see they are all a mess of sweat and realise I need to be pushing them more in their cardio. They are all ace when it comes to lifting weights in the gym but they all freaking hate cardio.
Well, that shit is about to change.
The L.A Storm aren’t just going to be unbeatable, we’re going to be the team that people think about when they think of the best. Coaches all over the world will be showing our plays to their teams because we’re just that damn good. We’ll be the team that kids dream to be a part of and what’s better, those very kids will work their damn asses off to make that dream come true and continue on the great name of the L.A Storm, Just like I know my son would have.
I quit dreaming of the bright future this team has and concentrate on Coach Larsden as he gets stuck into today's plan. He splits us into two teams, placing myself and Miller as the leaders and instructs that we’ll be playing a mock game.
I grin over at my best friend and see the challenge written in his eyes. The fucker thinks he’s got this and it’s going to be pretty fucking amazing taking it from him.
Two newbies go and get the nets and place them in their positions as a few of the guys go around collecting all the pucks that lay scattered over the ice.
A few minutes later, the timer is set and the whistle is blown.
After one of the craziest training sessions, I stand with Miller in the locker room, stripping off my training gear. “That last shot was a foul,” Miller says as he sits to untie his skates.
“Bullshit,” I grin. “In all my years of hockey, I’ve not once been called on a foul. You’re just out of sorts because you can’t beat me anymore.”
“Whatever,” he scoffs. “It was definitely a foul.”
I roll my eyes and quickly get myself showered and dressed before heading out to the parking lot with Miller. I’m telling him all about Sophie’s deal for returning to work when he cuts me off.
“Holy shit, dude,” he says as he gawks into the parking lot.
I look up and follow his eye line straight to my truck.
What. The. Fuck?
The whole thing is completely trashed and I don’t mean in a ‘someone wrote it off’ kind of way, I mean in the ‘some mother-fucker slashed all four tires, took a baseball bat to the windows and bodywork then finished it off with a spray painting’.
“Who the fuck would have done this?” Miller asks as we rush over to my truck to inspect the damage.
“I have no fucking idea but whoever it was is going to pay,” I tell him.
Miller looks over the spray paint, reading the words out loud. “Liar… Cheater…Dickhead,” he says. “Dude, it sounds like a jealous girlfriend or something. Maybe the bitch got the wrong truck.”
“Maybe,” I grunt, taking in the damage to the grill.
“Fuck, man,” Cameron says as he comes to look at my truck with a few of the other guys. “You’ve been up to no good, aye?” he questions with a smirk.
At that, I grab him by his shirt and slam him against the side of my fucked-up truck. “You ever suggest that I’ve been unfaithful to my wife again and I’ll kick your ass so bad that you’ll never walk again.”
“Shit, dude. I was just messing with you,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I know you wouldn’t mess around on Sophie.”
I narrow my eyes on the dickhead and see the sincerity in his eyes before letting him go. “Good,” I grunt as he takes two big steps away from me. “Who do you think did it?” he questions.
“No clue,” I say as I notice nearly half the team have formed a semi-circle around the truck.
“Go check the surveillance, there’s a camera pointing right at the car park,” Miller says.
Hmm, why didn’t I think about that? I take off with Miller by my side because, let’s face it, the fucker isn’t going anywhere. He’s now my ride home.
We make our way to the security section of the building and get them to pull up the footage. It doesn’t take long before I see Crazy Jill appear on the screen carrying a bag and a baseball bat in her hands.
I cringe as I watch her approach my truck and start rubbing her body all over it and from this angle, I’m pretty sure she just got off on my truck. Then, things change. She grabs the bag and bends down as she searches through it. She pulls out a knife and gets to work slashing the tires as if it is the most casual thing in the world.
Next comes the baseball bat which honestly makes me look away. She then finishes off the job with the spray paint before simply packing up her things and walking away.
“That bitch is fucking crazy,” Miller murmurs.
Damn straight. First, it’s the constant calls and messages to me and Sophie, then she intrudes in our home and practically defiles it and now she trashes my truck. This shit has gone on too long and I’m fucking over it.
Not to mention, I’ll be putting in a complaint to the head of security for the rink, I mean, what the fuck have they been doing all afternoon while tis shit was going down?
We step out of the surveillance room and head back out to the parking lot as I call the police and get them to come and document the damage. They arrive in no time and before I know it, I’ve given a statement and my beautiful truck is being towed away.
I’m told as it’s Crazy Jill’s first offence against the restraining order that she will be given a warning and will obviously be lumped with the charges of the repairs to my truck but come to think of it, I don’t want a repaired truck, I want a brand new one, one that isn’t tainted by Crazy Jill.
Shortly after, Miller gives me a ride home and I soon find myself spread out on the lounge with Sophie on top of me as I tell her all about my afternoon.
“I swear, if I ever see that crazy-as-shit woman again, I’m going to give her the beat down of her life,” Sophie vows with that gorgeous little crease between her eyebrows.
“Calm down, woman. You gave a beat down a few days ago and ended up in jail. I don’t want you getting a reputation.”
“What?” she shrieks. “I was defending your honour.”
“I know, babe,” I laugh. “But my honour doesn’t need defending. Trust me, nothing is going to knock me down.”
A grin starts to creep over my wife’s face and I know exactly what she is thinking. “You know, you’re damn sexy when you talk like that.”
“You mean when I talk with my ego?” I grin.
“Mmhmm,” she murmurs as her lips come down to mine. “It’s just that your ego is so damn big.”
I let out a laugh as I hold my wife close to my body. “Fuck, I love you.”
“I know,” she smiles. “I’m just so damn loveable.”
We lay silently on the couch, taking comfort in being in each other's arms. Sophie lets out the softest sigh that I don’t even think she realises she’s done it. “What is it, babe?” I question as I run my hands down her back.
“Hmmm?” she murmurs as she raises her head to look at me.
“You’re thinking about something.”
“Oh,” she says with another sigh. “I don’t know. Dani kind of mentioned something today and I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not.”
“What’s that?”
“That we should hold a little memorial for Tyler,” she says.
“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?” I question.
She shrugs her shoulders as she looks to me. “I guess because I was only five months pregnant. I mean… It’s not like he was born yet. I don’t know, maybe it’s silly.”
I sit up on the couch and bring Sophie up with me so she straddles my lap. “It’s not silly. He was our son and he deserves a memorial just as much as any other person would.”
“You think?” she asks. “I thought it would be a nice way to send him off and celebrate him. I wouldn’t want it like a black-tie event where everyone is mourning and sad.”
“No, we’ll make it special for him.”
Sophie gives me a sad smile as she lets out a breath of relief. “And no one can wear black. That’s a rule.”
“Ok, I’ll make sure everyone knows.”
“No, not everyone,” she says with a sudden shake of her head. “Just the closest people. Like the ones he would have called aunty or uncle.”
“Ok, babe,” I say, wrapping her up in my arms and pulling her in tight.
She rests her head on my shoulder. “I almost don’t want to do it. It just… It makes it so final.”
“Consider this your official goodbye,” I tell her. “But you need to remember he is looking down on us, so it’s never goodbye.”
I feel her head move against my shoulder as she gives a slight nod.
Later that night we settle into our usual routine as Sophie gets up to make dinner. I can’t help but watch her as she moves around the kitchen. I silently watch and grin as every last thing she does in there is completely wrong and I know without a doubt that dinner is going to be awful but either way, she wanted to cook so that’s what I’m going to let her do.
After watching her set the oven way too high, I decide it’s time to intervene. I get up off the lounge and make my way across the kitchen, I reach around her and lower the temperature on the oven as her body folds into mine.
“I hope you’re not trying to take over the kitchen” she questions in a sultry voice.
“No, just keeping it from burning down,” I murmur into her ear as my hands travel down her body.
She lets out a moan as she grips the kitchen bench and presses her body harder into mine. My hands come to the hem of her dress and I slowly slide it up her legs before finding her underwear.
My hand snakes around the front of her body and slides down into the front of her panties to find her ready for me. “I wanted to wash up some of the dishes while dinner was cooking,” she moans as she rubs herself against my hands.
“Not a chance,” I tell her as my fingers plunge into her opening.
She lets out a surprised gasp which quickly turns into another moan. I watch as her grip on the bench tightens and her knuckles begin turning white. I pull my hand out from her panties and grab her by the waist. I waste no time in spinning her and lifting her up onto the bench.
Her hands greedily reach for my jeans and she makes quick work of freeing me while I pull her dress up over her body and tear those panties right off.
As my jeans fall to the ground, I quickly step out of them and allow Sophie to pull my shirt over my head. As usual, her hand dives for my chest and abs while the other snakes around and squeeze the strong muscles of my back. With one quick step forward, I move on in, burying myself deep inside her in one easy thrust.
Not getting the angle I want, I lift her off the bench and press her up against the fridge. She lets out a squeal as the cool metal assaults her skin but that doesn’t stop her from holding on tighter and going along for the ride.
I’m two seconds out from coming when she calls out for me to stop. “Seriously?” I question.
“Oh yeah, it’s my turn,” she says and instructs me to take her to the lounge where she can straddle me. The second she comes down on me, she forces me deeper and I let out a groan. I raise my hips to meet her thrusts but she pushes me back down. “Don’t even think about it, Big Guy. This is my show now.”
Fuck. I halt my movements and watch my wife move on top of me as she assaults my body with the sweetest kind of pleasure. I’m desperate for a release but I know it won’t come until Sophie decides she is good and ready, so I guess now it’s my turn to hold on for the ride.
My hands roam over her perfect body and I soon find my fingers dipping down to circle her clit. “Fuck,” she screams. Knowing I can’t possibly last much longer I press down a little harder on her clit which is just what she needs to go flying right over the edge.
Her body explodes around me as she clenches down on my dick allowing me to finally find that sweet, sweet release. I come hard as she continues riding out her orgasm but I find myself nearly paralysed with pleasure.
“Holy shit,” she pants as her head drops to my shoulder.
“You can say that again,” I murmur.
With a grin, she looks up at me and I see those beautiful eyes sparkling with mirth. “I think dinner is burnt,” she says as she notices the burning smell that’s been filling the house for the last ten minutes.
“I know,” I tell her. “But don’t stress, I watched you cooking it. It was going to be shit anyway. I order Chinese.”
“What?” she shrieks.
“Yeah,” I say leaning forward and pressing the home button on my phone to check the time. “It should be here soon, actually.”
She lets out a little huff as she climbs off my lap and heads into the bathroom. I get up and turn off the oven before searching out our clothes. I pull out the dinner and find it burnt to a crisp as I hear her coming out of the bathroom.
“I’m not eating your stupid Chinese,” she tells me as she comes into the kitchen. “You should have more faith in my cooking skills.”
I hold up her burnt dinner so she can see it perfectly and a wicked grin crosses my face as her own falls flat. “Fuck,” she groans. “I just want to get it right, just once.”
“Babe,” I say, putting the dish down and stepping into her arms. “Just face it. You can’t cook. You never have in the five years I’ve known you.”
She lets out a huff. “I’m not ready to accept it yet.”
“Well you better hurry up because there is only so much more I can take of it.”
“What do you mean? You eat my diners all the time,” she questions.
“Only because I love you,” I tell her as the buzzer for the gate sounds. I press a gentle kiss to her forehead and excuse myself to make dinner like a real man. I press the buzzer and wait by the door for the delivery guy and shortly after, I’m dishing up real food for a very grumpy but starving wife.