3. Ellie

Ellie

C olton's dad. Of all the heroes to come to my rescue, Grey Aldine had done it. Made of solid muscle, as hard as granite, tattooed better than any biker, Grey had the looks and more. His salt and pepper shaggy hair showed his age, yet his striking green eyes spoke of a much younger and, need I say it, virile man.

Exhausted from my excessive emotion from the night before, I slept until nearly noon the following day. Comfortable and warm in the big bed, I daydreamed of Grey. His raunchy grin, his brawny arms with the tats, his eyes that looked at me with appreciation.

And lust.

I rolled over, suddenly uneasy.

He's old enough to be my dad, I reminded myself. Just because I never had a father figure, doesn't mean I should make Grey into one. No daddy issues, kiddo. Hands off Colton's old man. Not jumping from the son to the father, no way, nuh, uh, don't even go there.

I showered with the hotel's shampoos and soaps, toweled off, and donned my clothes. Combing my fingers through my wet hair, removing the tangles, I stared thoughtfully into the mirror. The purple streak I'd put in for fun now looked silly and childish.

"Grey probably thinks it's stupid, too."

Who cares what he thinks? After this weekend, I'll probably never see him again.

Taking my key card, I shut my room, then took the elevator down to the main floor. The hotel had a decent restaurant, and I was famished. Using Grey's cash, I bought a Reuben sandwich and chips, washing it all down with a Coke. Who the hell cared about my figure? It'll be years before I trust my heart to anyone else again. If I ever do.

Later, again using Grey's cash, I caught a cab to a nearby mall, and shopped. I bought panties, thick socks, toiletries, a pair of jeans and a lavender blouse. With plenty of cash to spare, I wandered the mall, considering the idea of buying myself a new necklace to go with the blouse. After a bitter battle with my conscience, I declined the urge.

I was in the cab, returning to the hotel, when the thought hit me― Check your phone . I'd charged it up before getting into Colton's truck the previous morning, and hadn't looked at it since. Checking the screen, I found I had two missed calls.

One from Jen.

The other from Colton.

Clicking the message icon, I listened to Jen's voice.

Hey, Ellie, where are you? I didn't see you leave, but everyone said you took off like a bat out of hell. Come back, girl, it's not safe for you to be wandering around in the night. Call me, I'll come get you.

"Interesting," I muttered, erasing the message. "And too little, too late."

I glanced at the time her call came in. Long after Grey had picked me up. "Sure, Jen, you didn't see me leave. I'm not that stupid."

I listened to Colton's message.

"You bitch, I could have gotten frostbite. Get your ass back here, I'm not having your death on me. You'll freeze out there. Not that I care, but the cops will ask questions. I won't let you screw up my dad's career with your stupid ass frozen in the woods. Call me."

The cabbie glanced around at the sound of my bitter chuckle. "You okay, miss?"

"Yeah." I tucked my cell away. "Thanks for asking."

***

After growing worried enough that Colton may have sicced the cops on me, I sent him a text after I returned to my room. I'm fine. Fuck off. With a couple of hours to spare before Grey's arrival, I spent the time watching a movie on HBO. If Colton or Jen had called the cops to report me missing, surely they'd have stopped the search for my frozen corpse by now. Not that I cared. What I didn't need were police and rescue folks risking their lives in trying to find what wasn't there to find.

At 4:15, I jumped from the bed at the knock on the door.

Grey, in all his muscular splendor, smiled in appreciation as he eyed my new blouse. "That color looks good on you. Maybe you don't want this after all."

He held up a blue and silver Vermont Vipers NHL jersey, the hooded viper with its mouth gaping wide embroidered on the front. His name and number were written in black on the back.

I squealed in delight, grabbing it from him. "Damn right I do. Come in, I'll change."

He let the door swing shut as I dashed for the bathroom, tugging my blouse off as I did so. I didn't bother to close myself in the bathroom as I yanked the blouse off and donned the jersey. If he saw me change, he gave no indication he saw any part of me naked.

Not that I'd care if he had.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Grey said excitedly.

He grinned as I twirled around him, showing off the jersey tucked into my jeans. "You look good enough to eat."

I laughed, giddy with excitement, inwardly stomping on my grief and anger over Colton's betrayal. I may have only this weekend with Grey, and I planned to have fun. Darkness and depression would have to wait until later.

"Grab your coat," he said.

I donned my jacket as Grey escorted me from the room, my change of clothes, toiletries, in a plastic carry bag. "Colton left me a message."

Grey cocked a brow as he looked down. "And?"

"He was worried I'd die and drag your name through the mud."

"That must have been before I left him a message," Grey commented, "informing him I found you along the road nearly dead, and that I'm ashamed of him."

"You said that?"

"I did. Because I am."

"That's so dope."

Grey took me into the TD Garden via the rear entrance. Security guards, recognizing him, nodded us inside. Hockey players from both teams strode in with us, yelling coarse insults at one another, laughing, swearing like dock workers, heading into the locker rooms.

"Wait here," Grey said, urging me against a wall. "I'll be right back."

I waited, nervous, catching unguarded looks of appreciation, heard snide comments, breathed in the odors of men, cologne, and sweat. I wished myself back in my safe hotel room, not liking the leers I received as I stood, waiting.

After what seemed like an eternity, Grey came back with a badge on a lanyard. He draped it over my neck, lifting my hair so the lanyard lay against my skin.

"This is your pass," he explained. "You still have money?"

I nodded.

"Okay, you won't need it except for a just in case. The game won't start for a few hours." He half-turned and beckoned a middle-aged man in a Vermont Vipers logoed shirt forward. "This is Jack. He'll take you to the VIP section."

I shook hands, smiling nervously at Jack. "Nice to meet you."

"I'll look after her, Grey," Jack said, "don't worry."

Grey winked. "See you soon."

"Okay."

Accompanied by Jack, I toured the tunnels, past the administrative offices beneath the stadium. Employees paid me no attention at all as they passed us, ID badges swinging from lanyards. Jack led the way up several flights of stairs to the rink side, and grinned as he gestured for me to sit in a glassed in box with armchairs rather than seats, tables, and potted plants.

"A waitress will be along to take your order," he said.

"A-a waitress?"

"Yep. Grey said to give you all the perks. Around here, his word is God's."

"What does it cost?" I tried not to panic as I thought of how much money I had left. Enough for a corndog and fries, but not much else.

Jack blinked. "For you, nothing. Unless you want to tip."

Stunned, I stared through the glass at the Zamboni cruising over the ice, the driver intent on his job. Fans began to fill the seats, eating food from the concession stand, drinking beer from plastic cups. A few VIP boxes slowly filled with high paying fans, yet others were still empty.

As the box was heated, I shed my coat and sat in glorious warmth. Music played over the speakers, the Zamboni's motor rumbled as it passed close by, security guards stood at all the entrances. I thought of Colton and Lindy freezing their asses off and chuckled to myself.

"Can I get you anything to drink?"

The smiling waitress handed me a menu―a menu! "Uh, is wine okay?"

"Of course. What would you like?"

"How about a chardonnay?"

"I'll be right back with it."

Tickled to my bones at this luxurious treatment, I watched as both teams skated onto the ice for warmup. The Vipers and their blue and silver uniforms contrasted with the Boston Bruins black and gold. His hair blown off his shoulders by the wind he created, Grey skated past my box, waving to me with a wide grin.

Fascinated by how the players seemed to float over the ice, the ease in which they turned, spun, whizzed down the rink at a speed that would leave a cheetah gasping, I laughed in delight. The waitress brought my wine and reminded me to look at the menu.

How can I look at a menu when all that beefcake skated on full display?

The teams returned to their respective locker rooms. I finally chose a steak with butter squash, a baked potato with everything, and a side salad with bread.

I handed the menu back. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

As I dined on the delicious dinner, people entered the rink, and took their seats. I people watched, observing families, couples, most wearing Boston Bruins jerseys. I smiled to myself at the few who, like me, wore the colors of the Vipers.

How I managed to eat all that food baffled me. I'd just finished when the announcer's voice boomed over the speakers. Both teams skated in, and if Grey looked toward me, I couldn't tell. I stood when the national anthem played, the players at rigid attention facing the flag.

I stared, with bated breath, as Grey and the Bruins' captain faced off in center ice, their sticks ready for battle.

The ref dropped the puck.

Grey fought for it, won, and careened down the arena, charging headlong for the Bruins' goalie. Like a pack of wolves, both Vipers and Bruins raced after him, powdered ice thrown up from behind their blades. Two Bruins tried to steal the puck from Grey. A Viper sneaked up behind one and jammed his stick between the dude's ankles.

He fell, sprawling. Shockingly, the ref didn't call it.

The other Bruin aimed his stick at Grey's skates in a similar move, but Grey danced out of range, and sped up.

Grey aimed the puck at the goalie.

The goalie crouched ready to intercept.

Grey passed the puck to a fellow Viper at the last second.

Caught off guard, the Bruins' goalie failed to follow the puck's direction.

The Viper slammed the puck into the net.

I screamed, jumping up and down, as the buzzer sounded. Grey and his teammates skated in triumph, lifting their sticks over their heads. The Bruins also skated in circles, no doubt cursing Grey and his speed, agility, and power.

I saw the Bruin coming for him.

Scared, I shrieked, "Grey! Behind you!"

Grey, as though hearing me, half-turned, skating both sideways and backward. The Bruin body slammed Grey into the shield that protected the audience from catching a puck with their teeth.

In retaliation, Grey punched the Bruin once, twice, three times in the head.

The Bruin slipped and slid on the ice, bleeding from a massive gash over his eyes.