Chapter 58

Fifty-Eight

EMORY

I walk into the locker room with my heart on my sleeve.

I can't make eye contact with much of anyone, and if I do, it comes off as a glare. It's not purposeful, and they don't take offense.

Most of my gear is on, and I seem ready for the game, but I'm not. My phone is in my hand, and I swipe away the texts from my parents and their constant concern and check to see if I have any random messages. I keep hoping Scottie will reach out to me somehow, since I deleted the social media account that she used to her advantage, but she hasn't.

It hurt like hell when I finally figured out the password: Emorysbiscotti.

That wasn't a fucking punch in the gut or anything.

After tossing my phone to the side, I get up from the bench and storm onto the ice without making much small talk with my team.

Warm-ups are mostly over, and this is the first game I've played since the news of Scottie and I broke, which means I'm being watched very closely.

Hockey fans love the game.

They love it even more when emotions are attached. We're sold out tonight, and it would be dense of me to think it has nothing to do with the recent revelations about my personal life.

They're hoping for a fight.

Everyone is predicting the hotshot goalie will lose his shit because of the trauma he's been through. They think she blackmailed me and forced my hand, because that's what she admitted online.

Which, yeah. She attempted to do just that.

But what she didn't finish telling them was that she backed out because her heart is much too big for this world.

She can't avoid me forever, though.

We're legally married, for fuck's sake.

She better come out of hiding soon, because she doesn't know the lengths I will go for her.

A small group of players start to circle the ice, and I can already tell they're wanting to start their shit and get into my head. They better not say a fucking word.

I grip my stick and focus.

Rhodes, who already has a huge presence on the ice with his attitude, drives it a little deeper with his glare set on our opponent and his deep voice vibrating around the arena. "Back the fuck off," he barks to them.

Kane skates past and mumbles something to Rhodes, and then they both take off, leaving the yellow jerseys with a silent threat.

We play hard and fast.

Malaki is up for MVP of the year, and he's slicing and dicing on the icy floor like his life depends on it. But our guys are tired, and we're tied 1-1.

Kane has been in the penalty box three times, and Matthew twice, which isn't the norm for him. But when we play a team this good, there's bound to be some mistakes.

Scottie pops into my head.

So many mistakes were made.

I should have told her that I love her much sooner than I did. Or expressed just how much I love her.

Maybe then, she would have stayed, and we could have figured this out together.

Instead, she fled and tried to fix it on her own because that's what she's used to.

Being alone.

I focus on the black puck whizzing directly for the top left corner of the net. I block it with my shoulder, but the relief is gone when I'm flung backward, cracking my helmet off the ice.

Fucking shit.

"You mother fuckers!" Kane shouts, jumping on top of several other players with me at the bottom of the pile.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The refs and teammates intervene and try to pull everyone off of each other. Fists are flying, and I'm stuck lying underneath them. Number seven smiles slyly at me.

"I'd let that girl blackmail me too."

I know he's trying to get me riled up.

The old Emory would throw his gloves off to the side, and the smug fuck would be on his ass with a broken jaw in seconds.

But I'm not ruining the work Scottie just put in to make me seem like I'm a good man.

She makes me want to be the guy she painted me out to be in the media. I want to show her how good of a husband I can be, without the threat of our stupid marriage contract hanging over our heads.

Fuck.

I have to fix it.

Nothing seems to matter to me, unless I have her.

"Kane!" I shout. "He's baiting you."

"He's baiting you!" he shouts back, flinging the ref's hand off his pad.

"And I'm not takin' it. Get your fucking head in the game."

I should take my own advice, but there's another game that my head is in, and right after we win this one, I'm going to go win that one too.

"Olson." Coach Jacobs seems irritated. "They want you for the press conference tonight."

I knew they'd want me, so I'm not surprised.

"You can refuse it. You'll be fined, but I don't think anyone will blame you."

I'm still in my uniform, minus my helmet. I walk past Coach and pat some of my teammates on the back because we won, and it's all because they worked together as a team.

Kane clicked back into action after I scolded him, and although there were a few other remarks here and there, and some penalties, we were able to come out with a win.

"You sure you want to do this?" Rhodes acts truly concerned for once.

I nod, and he raises an eyebrow.

"I've gotta see this," he says, trying to hide a smirk.

"I'm surprised you're not running off to get Ellie. I feel sort of special that you're waiting around to watch me take a press conference."

He turns away and shrugs. "She's with the nanny."

"The same one or another new one?"

"Same."

"That's a record. How long has this one lasted? A week?" I ask.

"Shut up," he snaps, opening the door. "Don't cuss anyone out if they ask you about Scottie."

"If?" I glance over my shoulder. "You mean when."

If no one brings her up, I'll do it for them.

Silence fills the room when I enter. The only thing I hear are a few clicks of cameras, which only remind me of Scottie.

I take a seat, and strangely enough, I feel calm.

Calmer than I've ever felt in front of a camera—unless, of course, Scottie was the one behind it.

I nod to one reporter in the front because she looks like she'd be the one to bring up the recent drama. She speaks loud and confident, but to my surprise, she only asks about the game. I answer her question fluently and point to another woman, but the moment she opens her mouth and squeaks, I know she isn't the one. After answering her, I scan the crowd and land on a man. He looks like he has enough balls to ask me the question everyone thinks I don't want to answer.

"Now that we've gotten your side of the game, do you care to give us your side of the recent allegations over your marriage?"

Bingo.

I lean back in my seat and smirk.

"I thought you'd never ask."

There's a low buzz of chuckles and whispers. I glance at Rhodes, and he shakes his head. I shrug and turn back to the reporter.

"It's true," I start. "Scottie Monroe did try to blackmail me." I lean forward. "I want you all to underline the word try. " After I'm satisfied that they've all done what I've asked, I rap my fingers on the table. "She didn't blackmail me. She's much too righteous for something like that. But it got me thinking."

I pray to God Scottie is watching.

And if she isn't, I'm just going to have to go find her.

I'll go to the prison and wait until she visits her brother if need be.

"It was my idea."

There are a few gasps, and my agent is probably throwing his TV across the room by now.

"I had a contract written up. She would marry me to help fix my image—since so many of you reporters wanted to spread rumors that I was just an angry, cagey goalie who put some guy in the hospital, and run with the gossip of women saying I did things that were never true—and I'd pay her when the job was done."

"So, she is a gold digger?" one of the men asks.

I flick my eyes to him, and he immediately shuts his mouth. "You talk like that again about my wife, and you're going to need a new profession."

A new set of teeth too.

"Scottie married me for money, yes, but to respect her privacy, I am not going to tell you what that money was going toward. But the last thing this woman should ever be called is a gold digger."

All they'd have to do is see the car she drives to know that.

If they knew the heart she hid from everyone so well, they wouldn't be saying that either.

"I'm here to set the story straight. My marriage started off as a ploy. I was attempting to fix my reputation and to silence the constant rumors, but it wasn't her idea. If the league wants to ban me for extortion, then that's their right. But I can't play another second of hockey with everyone thinking that Scottie Olson is anything but a selfless, self-sacrificing, kind, yet sometimes spirited, and compassionate woman that I'm in love with."

I stand and leave, with my heart bleeding right through my hockey uniform.

The arena has cleared out, and the parking lot is mostly empty. The cleaning crew hesitantly asked me to leave after they attempted to clean the locker room around me and my gear, so I finally gathered everything and left without saying a word.

I silenced my phone because I already know that my post-game interview is everywhere, and most people I know have seen it.

The only one that needs to see it is Scottie, though, and I have no way of finding out if she did.

Not until she emerges from wherever she's hiding.

I've checked everywhere I could think of several days ago.

There aren't many places she can go to, yet I can't find her.

A thick gust of chilly air whips around me as I head for my car. I click the key fob a few times to light up the area and pause when I see something on top of my car.

What the fuck is that?

The closer I get, the more I can make out.

Two glowing eyes stare at me, and my first reaction is to scold the cat for being on top of my car, but that's when I see the blue collar I wrestled onto Shutter the day before Scottie left.

"You let him get on top of my car?" I ask, hoping like hell I hear her voice answer me back.

Please.

I hear her scuffed-up Converse step on the loose gravel. When she appears from the other side of my car, the breath leaves my body.

Thank God.

"He insisted," she says quietly, like she's afraid to talk.

All I want to do is reach out and grab onto her, but I play it safe. I walk closer to the driver's side door and reach my hand out to pet Shutter. He stands on top of the hood in between Scottie and me and, surprisingly, lets me pet him.

"Are we going to have a custody battle over Shutter?" I joke, trying to break the tension.

She crosses her arms over that tattered Blue Devils shirt that I now know was her father's. "Why did you do that?"

I shrug off my hoodie and slide it across the hood of my car. She stares at it for a second before moving it away from Shutter and pulling it over her slender frame.

"Why did I do what? Tell the truth?"

"That wasn't the deal," she whispers. "We had terms."

"Fuck the terms," I say, matter-of-fact.

She huffs quietly. "Then what was the point?"

"The point?" Fuck this. I round the front of my car, and it stuns her. She attempts to step away but stops when I move into her space. I put one arm around her waist and grip her face with the other. "You," I snap. "Us." I shake my head and stare into her eyes. "That's the point."

She opens her mouth to argue.

"No." I tighten my grip on her, and she peers up at me with so much hidden hope that I almost choke. "Do you remember when I told you I take care of the people I love?"

She nods slowly.

"I love you , Scottie."

Her chin wobbles, and I fucking hate to see her cry. I've never hated anything more in my life.

"Nothing else matters unless I have you. Not the game. Not the team. Not my fucking reputation." I shrug. "My agent could call me right now to tell me that the league is suspending me indefinitely for admitting that I exploited some poor innocent woman, and I wouldn't care."

"Yes, you would."

"If it proved to you that you're the most important thing in my life? No, I wouldn't."

She looks away before swinging her eyes back to mine. "I have nothing to offer you," she admits.

"All I need is you," I say.

A breathy sigh slips from her lips, and I fall for her all over again.

It's just the two of us, standing in an empty parking lot, exactly like it was when we started this entire thing.

"For better, for worse," I whisper, moving closer to her mouth. "For richer, for poorer." A tear slips down her cheek. "In sickness and in health." I brush the tear away.

She moves closer to me. "To love and to cherish."

I pull her mouth to mine and whisper against her lips. "Until death do us part, baby."

Scottie reaches up on her tiptoes to seal our kiss, and my knees go weak. Thank God.

When we break apart, my voice is more of a rasp. "Let's go home."

I stare at her pretty mouth when a tiny smile appears. She peeks around me. "Did you hear that, Shutter? Let's go home ."