Chapter 29

We're playing Vancouver again, and it's the perfect time to make that asshole pay for benching me. The boys may have said he got his teeth knocked out, but it's not enough for me. I'm fucking him up if it's the last thing I do. And that's why when the puck sails toward me, I ignore it.

Instead, I grab him by the jersey and slam him into the boards—hard. With only one minute on the clock and us being tied, I'm hoping the team pulls through, but it doesn't even matter right now as I rip the helmet off the guy who hit me upside the head with his hockey stick.

My gloves come off, but I keep the helmet on to protect my head. It's a cheap move, but all I feel is peace when my fist connects with his jaw and I hear it crack. I hit him again and again, and he clutches his face, pushing me away. I let him and watch him skate away with what's probably a broken jaw.

The sense of satisfaction I feel is unmatched. It's not lost on me that this is the first time I"ve felt anything close to happiness since Bailey walked away from me.

The horn blows, signaling that time has run out, and my teammates look at me with disappointment on their faces. We lost. And it's all my fault. My shoulders hunch with tension, but it's due to their defeated expressions. I don't feel guilty at all, and that's even more messed up, because I'm usually nicer than this. I usually wouldn't pull something this selfish, but lately, I haven't been caring about much. Not when I can't feel anything other than devastation.

Just not over this. Fuck hockey, it's just a damn game. Yeah, it might be my livelihood, but nothing will ever compare to the helpless feeling of watching someone rip your heart out of your chest cavity with their bare hands. Is this why she left me? To avoid feeling this again herself? If so, then I don't blame her. This sucks. But I would've never done that to her. I would've protected her heart with everything I had. Not that it matters now since I won't get the chance to.

Just thinking of going back to the empty life I led before her makes me want to throw up. I don't think I can do it; pretend she never existed. It's just not in my chemistry to forget about her. She's engrained herself into my very cells, taking them hostage like a fucking virus. And I don't want to get better. I'd do anything for the sickness. Being in love sucks. It might just be the worst thing that's ever happened to me because I've never felt it to this degree before, and it really hurts when it's over. I'm not sure how long it'll take me to recover, but if tonight was any indication, I probably shouldn't be on the first line.

We go back to the hotel room, and there's a silence between Jeremy and me that I don't like. But I don't know how to break it. I don't even know what to say. So I do the only logical thing—I stay silent. Until he decides to talk to me.

"It's okay, T." Jeremy sighs, his brown eyes closing. "You're gonna be okay. Trust me when I say she's not worth crying over."

I wipe my tears, chugging more Jameson straight from the bottle. "She is, and that's the problem. We connected, Jer. We really did, and it's not that simple anymore. I know this broke her too."

Jer frowns, "I have to tell you something."

"Yeah?" I ask him, taking another sip of the whiskey.

"I may or may not have seen her the other night."

I sit up from my slumped position on the bed, and the whiskey slightly shakes in the bottle, threatening to spill over. I could care less if I'm covered in it, though; it fits the vibe I'm emanating. "What the fuck did you just say?" I ask through gritted teeth, ready to break his.

"She went to Cheyenne's house while we were fuck?—"

"Don't lead with that. As for being in Cheyenne's house, I'll take a rain check on that conversation, just know it's coming." I take a deep breath in through my nose, then exhale slowly. "What was she doing there? And why didn't you tell me this that night when you came over?"

"I—um." He runs a hand down his face. "She was distraught. Bailey was screaming when she came in, begging for Chey. She fell to her knees, crying her eyes out. So know you're not the only one hurting."

"Why the fuck," I growl, "didn't you tell me this?"

"That night was about you!" Jeremy stands up from his queen-sized bed and begins to pace back and forth in front of my bed, pissing me off further, if I'm being honest. There's a wildfire running through my veins, and he just keeps stoking it with every word coming out of his mouth. "Not her. I was fucking pissed, dude. That she'd do that to you. That she'd hurt you in that way. But let me just say that while I know she's hurting, I also know she has no intention of coming back. At least, that's what Cheyenne said to me this morning."

My heart drops, mainly because all hope has slithered and died with those stupid words. No intention of coming back. "I know," I whisper. "I told her not to."

"You did what?"

"To make the story short, I told her that if she wasn't going to stay, to not call me ever again. That we were done."

Jeremy grips his hair with both hands, which is a sign of the frustration I'm feeling, except triple it, and he's still nowhere close to what I'm actually going through. "Why the fuck would you do that if you don't mean it?"

"I do." I nod once. "If she can't stick by me, I don't need her."

"The fuck you don't." He shakes his head and pins me with a glare that makes his eyes seem even darker—black, even. "Look at you, T! You're a walking corpse. You're just as bad as when your sister died."

I flinch, mostly because he's not wrong, which just makes me feel guilty. "Listen, Jeremy." I sigh, "She doesn't trust me with her heart, and now I can't trust her with mine. She didn't just break it; she destroyed it."

He nods, because what else is there to say? He knows I'm right. Jeremy can see how broken I am. We've known each other for many years. He's been there for me since before my sister died years ago, and he's been my D-man since then, too. We've been inseparable since we were paired and put on the same line.

No one on this team knows me better than him. And right now, he knows there's no repairing me for a while, in fact, maybe ever. I thought that Bailey and I had a shot. Hell, I was hoping to be the end game. But clearly, we weren't ever on the same damn page. As soon as I professed my feelings, she bolted faster than a lightning strike.

"I don't blame you." He returns to his bed and sits on the edge of it again, snapping his fingers in a signal to hand over the bottle. I do, nearly falling off the damn bed in the process because I'm sloshed as hell. "Except what are you going to do if she does come back, begging you to be with her again?"

"We were never together." I shrug, my turn to signal for the bottle. I chug again, savoring the burn in my esophagus as it makes its way down. "And now? I don't want to be."

"You're kinda being heartless, T."

"Fuck that." I laugh, but it sounds bitter even to my ears. "She ripped my fucking heart out and stomped on it. If Bailey had cared about me even a little bit, she would've never done that."

"So what was the alternative?"

"Being with me, Jer!" I yell, getting up from the bed and stumbling immediately. I right myself, trying to keep my balance, but it's useless, and I fall back on the bed, sitting at the edge of it. "Letting me into her heart was the alternative. Only she didn't want that. And I'm not about to get played."

"I hope you know what you're doing, man."

"I do," I lie. "Let's go to bed, please. I'm fucking exhausted."

Jeremy turns off the lights, further giving me the space and time to think—time and space that I know I don't need right now. Although maybe it's necessary to drown in the pain, if only so I don't go back to her when she comes begging on her knees. I have a feeling she will when she realizes this is the biggest mistake of her life. It truly is, but maybe my biggest mistake was letting her in to begin with.