Chapter 11 Jack
T he movie theater's dimly lit lobby feels almost intimate as I stand beside Elyse, waiting for Sam to return with our snacks. An awkward silence hangs between us after our earlier disagreement about her investigating the Firebirds. I'm sure that's why Sam suggested this outing, to try to bridge the gap between us and Elyse, and it's the only reason I'm standing here. It's probably the same for her.
She fidgets, and I take a deep breath. "I acted like a jerk earlier. I had no right to blow up at you like that."
She meets my gaze, those olive eyes sparkling with understanding. "No, you didn't, but you were just trying to protect the team. I get that."
"Still, the way I spoke to you was uncalled for." I reach out, my fingers grazing her arm. A jolt of electricity shoots through me at the contact. "You were only doing your job. I respect your dedication, even if it puts us at odds on this."
A small smile tugs at the corners of her full lips. "Thank you for saying that. I never want there to be tension between us."
The words are loaded with the growing intimacy neither of us can deny any longer. My gaze drifts to her mouth, and I remember how soft those lips are against mine.
Before I can overthink it, I cup her face in my palm and pull her toward me. Our mouths meet in a tentative, exploring kiss that quickly deepens into heated passion. Her hands clutch at my shirt as our bodies press together. I'm vaguely aware of someone clearing their throat nearby.
We break apart, both of us flushed. Sam stands a few feet away, an amused smirk on his face as he juggles our drinks and a tub of popcorn. "Should I come back later or…?"
Heat rises in my cheeks, but I can't resist shooting Sam a cocky grin. Wrapping an arm around Elyse's waist, I possessively pull her against my side. "Nah, we're good. Lead the way, Masterson."
Sam shakes his head in mock exasperation but heads toward the theater entrance. As we follow, Elyse leans in close, her lips brushing my ear. "I'm glad we got that out of the way."
I chuckle. For the first time in a long while, I feel light and carefree
***
The next night, I take a long sip of my beer as Sam settles onto the barstool next to me. The dimly lit sports bar is mostly empty this late on a weeknight, giving us a semblance of privacy.
"So…" He arches an eyebrow at me. "You and Elyse, huh? How long has that been going on?"
I shrug one shoulder, feigning nonchalance. "Not that long, honestly. It just sort of…happened. We went from fake it to make it," I say with a careless grin. "It's your fault, if you think about it." That's not really true though. Even if Sam hadn't suggested we fake-date for the press, I'm sure we would have still been drawn to each other through a different way.
Sam nods, studying me intently. "I can't say I'm surprised. The way you two look at each other…" He trails off with a wry chuckle. "Just don't break her heart, man. She's tougher than she looks, but still…. She's young and never had a serious relationship. I don't want to see your inherent grumpiness stifle her sunshine."
"I'd never intentionally hurt her." The words tumble out, surprising even me. Clearing my throat, I take another pull of my drink. "Listen, there's something you should know…" Sam waits patiently as I gather my thoughts. Finally, I meet his gaze head-on. "Karina showed up again recently."
His expression darkens instantly. "That psycho ex of yours? Seriously?"
I nod grimly. "Saw her outside the arena after our last home game. She tried to approach me, but I shut that down quick."
"Dammit, Jack." Sam slams his fist on the bar, making our glasses rattle. "After all the shit she put you through? You can't let her worm her way back into your life again."
"You think I don't know that?" I snap, then force myself to take a calming breath. "Believe me, I have no intention of letting Karina anywhere near me or…" I hesitate briefly. "Or Elyse."
The thought of Karina anywhere near Elyse makes my blood run cold. That woman is unhinged, obsessive, and manipulative to the core. I won't let her toxicity taint what Elyse and I are building.
He seems to read my mind. "You really care about her, don't you?" When I don't respond right away, he presses on. "Look, man, I get being gun-shy after what happened with Karina. She messed you up, but Elyse…" A fond smile plays at his lips. "My sister is someone special. Don't let your past demons ruin your chance at happiness."
His words resonate. For so long, I've been merely going through the motions but never allowing myself to open up or get too attached. Karina's betrayal shattered what little faith I had in love, and her behavior afterward made it easier to stop trying than to put dates through her craziness.
But Elyse is different. From the moment we met, she awoke something in me I thought was long dead. Her warmth, her light, and her unshakable optimism—it's like she breathed new life into my world.
"You're right," I say, staring into my glass. "She is special, and I'll be damned if I let Karina or anyone else ruin this for me."
Draining the last of my beer, I slide off the barstool with renewed determination. "I'm not gonna hide or run away this time. Whatever happens with Elyse, I'm all in."
Sam claps me on the shoulder, a proud grin splitting his face. "That's what I like to hear, captain. Let's get outta here. We don't want to piss off Coach by arriving late to practice tomorrow, and you need about a hundred years of beauty sleep." He nudges me with an elbow to my lower back.
"At least I have a chance of looking better. You'll always be cursed with that ugly mug." I toss some bills on the table, and we walk out, ribbing each other. It feels good to relax and let go.
As we head for the exit, I can't help stealing one last glance over my shoulder, half-expecting Karina's sneering face to materialize, but there's nothing there except the empty bar and my own lingering doubts.
I shake off the unease. Karina is in the past, and it's time I left her there for good.
***
Once we're home from the bar, I take a shower. My shoulder is killing me, but I still consider slipping into Elyse's room. Only the lack of light dissuades me. I don't want to wake her up.
Rolling my shoulder, I walk to the living room where I left the bottle of pills from Dr. Kleiner earlier. Dropping onto the couch, I pick it up and stare at the bottle of painkillers in my hand, the plastic crinkling as I clench my fist around it. My shoulder throbs, a dull, insistent ache that refuses to be ignored. Gritting my teeth, I pop open the lid and shake two pills into my palm.
"You sure that's a good idea?" I jump and swear under my breath. I didn't even hear Sam come in from the kitchen. Turning, I find him leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest. Concern etches lines around his eyes. "Those things are hardcore, bro. You don't want to get hooked on them."
I snort dismissively. "It's not like I'm gonna start popping them like candy." Still, a sliver of doubt pricks at me as I eye the innocuous white capsules.
He shrugs but doesn't push further. Smart guy—he knows arguing will only make me dig my heels in harder. Instead, he steps forward to hand me a glass of water before he nods toward my shoulder. "How's it feeling?"
"Like someone took a sledgehammer to it." I try to rotate the joint, wincing as the pain flares white-hot. "Damn thing just won't heal right."
"Maybe you should get it checked out again." Sam's words hang in the air as I consider his suggestion. "See someone better than Dr. Kleiner."
I shift on the bench, my shoulder throbbing in protest. "You think Coach would actually let me see someone else after that shit he pulled with Vince?"
Sam's expression darkens at the mention of our former teammate. "Low blow, bringing up Halstrom like that."
Shrugging one shoulder—carefully, to avoid further aggravating the injury—I meet his gaze levelly. "You know I'm right though. Matthews doesn't give a damn about our health as long as we're winning games."
He runs a hand through his tousled dark hair, exhaling a frustrated sigh. "He can't keep sweeping things under the rug forever. Not with this lawsuit hanging over his head."
The living room falls silent as we both mull over the implications of Vince's legal battle against the team. If he wins his case, exposing Matthews' shady tactics, it could bring the entire organization crashing down around us.
A wry chuckle escapes my lips. "Can you imagine the shitstorm if the truth came out? About the injuries he's covered up, the players he's bullied into keeping quiet…"
I trail off, memories of my own unpleasant encounters with Matthews flooding back. The man is a Class-A prick—manipulative and utterly ruthless in pursuit of victory.
Unconsciously, my hand drifts to my aching shoulder as I recall the heated argument in his office just a few weeks ago…
***
"Dammit, Ford, get your head in the game." Matthews slams his meaty fist onto the desk, making me flinch. "I don't pay you to pussyfoot around out there."
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to snap back at the smug bastard. "With all due respect, Coach, I'm playing hurt here. This shoulder injury is no joke."
He waves a dismissive hand. "So take a few painkillers and suck it up like a man. You think you're the only one dealing with nagging aches and pains?"
The words sting, stoking the simmering flames of my temper. I open my mouth to protest, but Matthews cuts me off with a menacing glare.
"Don't even think about giving me some excuse about needing time off or surgery or whatever. We're defending a championship that we fought and bled for last season, Ford. I need you on that ice, one hundred percent, no matter what it takes. Are we clear?"
My jaw clenches as I force out a terse nod. "Crystal."
Matthews leans back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing at his lips. "Good. I'd hate to see your life become…complicated."
The implication hangs heavy in the air. I don't bother to ask what he means—the guy's a pro at thinly-veiled threats. Swallowing hard, I turn on my heel and stalk out, my shoulder screaming in agony with every step.
***
"Earth to Jack?" Sam's voice snaps me back to the present. "You zoned out on me for a second there, bro."
I blink rapidly, shoving aside the unpleasant memory. "Sorry, man. Just…thinking about some stuff Matthews said."
Concern flickers across Sam's expression. "He didn't threaten you again, did he?"
"Nah, not exactly." I hesitate, wondering if I should fill him in on the details. "Don't worry about it," I say instead, forcing a casual shrug. "You know how that asshole likes to run his mouth."
Sam's brow furrows, but he seems to accept my deflection for now. "If you're sure…"
Popping the pills into my mouth, I chase them down with a swig of water. Sam watches me impassively, but I can sense the disapproval rolling off him in waves.
"Don't give me that look," I say harshly. "I'll be fine once these kick in. Just need to take the edge off for now."
"If you say so, Cap." Sam's tone is dubious, but he seems to know better than to argue further. "I'm gonna grab a shower."
I grunt an affirmative as he disappears down the hall. Sinking onto the battered sofa, I lean back and try to relax, letting the meds do their work.
My eyelids start to droop as the pain gradually recedes to a dull murmur. Unbidden, my thoughts drift to Elyse and the look on her face when I snapped at her earlier. I really was an ass, letting my temper get the better of me like that.
She didn't deserve the brunt of my foul mood. I should apologize and make it up to her somehow. Of course, that's when the other worry slithers in—the one I can't seem to shake no matter how hard I try. Karina flashes through my mind, her cruel laughter echoing endlessly.
What if she tries to go after Elyse? Uses her to get to me in some twisted game of revenge? The thought of that poisonous woman anywhere near Elyse makes my blood boil.
My eyelids droop lower as the painkillers fully kick in, the tension slowly bleeding from my body. I'll figure it out in the morning.