41. Daemon

W e have our first game of the year today, and despite working out every day since I got back from the city, exhaustion still clings to me like never before. I know the added stress of my father’s parole hearing, slowly creeping up, is taking its toll, just like I know I’m probably going to have to call a lawyer on Monday and work out my options if he gets released. It doesn’t help that my brother won’t stop calling and texting me, even after Archer put him in his place.

The man in question is currently stretching beside me, ignoring everyone else on the team, including our captain, and shooting me secret, filthy stares. “Kinda wishing I was that piece of ice you’re grinding on right now, Forbes,” he grunts beneath his breath, watching as I bend forward and backward to warm up.

“Stick around after this and we can play a different kind of game, if you like,” I purr back, my need for him never sated, and his smirk widens.

“You do owe me a round of truth or dare.”

“Since when?”

“Since I let you fuck me in a maze.”

“Let me?” I scoff, at the mention of this again. “I don’t recall you complaining. In fact, if I remember it correctly, you were begging,” I tell him, giving him a pointed glare, and his stare heats, as if remembering the moment perfectly.

Pushing up off the ice at the same time I do, he skates closer, too close to be casual, but everyone is distracted by the madness of the game. “I thought you liked it when I begged, Forbes,” he taunts, his lust-drenched voice licking up the back of my spine, and let’s just say it’s a good thing I am wearing my base layer.

Not that it matters, his stare is knowing anyway. “You’re gonna pay for that, Gray,” I toss back, his grin only getting wider.

“I can’t wait,” he replies, as Nova skates toward us, and Archer pulls his focus from me to him. “Princess Peters is looking especially good tonight,” he greets him, forcing his stare to travel over to where Maddie and Hallie are sitting in the stands. Nova grinds his jaw, and I roll my eyes at his attempt to rile him, and at our captain for falling for it.

“And you’ll look good bleeding out at my fucking feet if you say another word,” Nova snaps back, leveling his best friend with a look full of warning, but Archer only winks at him.

“Fuck off, you know you love me, Cap.”

“Yeah, what’s not to love about you,” Nova replies, rolling his eyes. His smile is still playful, but I can’t help but think about what Nova just said.

My eyes find Archer’s again, and the question plays on repeat in my mind as we finish our warm up and the game begins. The sound of the buzzer is usually when my mind clears, when I focus on just the ice and forget about everything else, but as the object of my affection flies past me every few minutes, my mind is only on him. The way he moves, the way he dominates the ice, the way countless girls scream his name, but most importantly, the way his eyes keep finding mine.

Nova’s right, what’s not to love about Archer Gray?

It’s a thought that plagues me for the entirety of the game, even when we win, as we skate off the ice to head to the locker rooms. Archer, of course, finds his way to me with no trouble at all, his stalking knowing no bounds, as he purposely maneuvers himself until we are both at the back of the group.

“What do I need to do to tempt you to let me into that shower stall of yours?” he whispers under his breath, eyes forward, as if he never even spoke, and my mouth curves into a smile.

“Two 6 foot hockey players in one stall, it would be a tight fit,” I toss back, keeping my voice low enough to ensure nobody hears us.

Archer’s head instantly whips around as we reach the locker room, and he turns until he can push the door open with his back. “Oh, I know it would be a tight fit,” he taunts back with a wink, before making his way to our bank of lockers.

I’m smiling as we make quick work of taking off our skates, the atmosphere abuzz with another win under our belt, then I pull off my jersey and open my locker so I can toss it in my bag. My phone sits on the top shelf, and it lights up with an incoming call as I reach for my towel, so I pick up my phone instead, barely looking at the screen, and I am greeted with an automated voice.

“You have a collect call from…” the robotic voice pauses, as another voice I would recognize anywhere cuts into the call. “Ellis Forbes.”

My entire body freezes at the sound of my father’s name, at the sound of his voice, as all the noise around me fades away completely. The automated voice says something else, something I barely hear, but I must accept the call because there is a long beep and the call connects.

“Hey Son, did you miss me?” he asks, his tone filled with malice and warning, and my heart instantly begins to race. No, not him, not here, I thought I was free. “I’m looking forward to our reunion,” he adds, and my mind starts to lose focus, as I struggle to remain upright.

“How did you get this number?” I choke out in a whisper, and his deranged laugh has my hands shaking.

I remember that laugh. I remember what comes after it too.

He always found his punishments funny, like my torture was a long running fucking joke to him, but his laughter was preferable to my brother’s tears. Whenever I heard my father’s car returning home, I would lock Ryan in my room with noise cancelling headphones, telling him not to come out until I got him. It was the perfect plan. I took the pain, patched myself up, and then let Ryan sleep in my room, until I knew our father was gone again. I kept him safe, I protected him, I did everything fucking right, but still I failed.

My baby brother, who was nothing but light and sunshine, was killed, and now the man responsible is going to roam free.

“Oh, my stupid, pathetic boy, did you really forget just how much power I have?” he taunts, and I swear I can feel the phantom slice of his blade against my skin. “I can reach you anywhere. You and that boyfriend of yours. What’s his name again?” His question startles me, and my eyes instantly move to my right, where Archer is laughing and joking with Nova and Reign, as my father adds, “Ah, Archer Gray, that’s it.”

His name falling from my father’s lips, feels like taking every one of his hits all at once. Like slicing open my feet and raking them over hot coals, causing bile to crawl up the back of my throat.

How the fuck does he know his name?

“Yes, I look forward to seeing both you, and Archer, very soon,” he warns, before the call disconnects, but it’s too late, the damage is already done.

I haven’t heard his voice in four years, and all it takes is hearing Archer’s name to undo all the damage I thought I’d repaired.

My legs buckle without permission, hitting the locker room floor with a thud. I hear someone call my name, but it’s not clear. No, the only thing that’s clear is that someone else I love is going to get hurt, because I didn’t protect them. I should have stayed away from him, I should have kept him from my darkness, not invite him into it and let it consume him.

I hear more people calling my name, my entire body shaking now, as my chest burns with pain. I need to breathe. Why can’t I breathe?

“Daemon,” Josh calls my name in a panic, as someone drops down beside me, gently cupping my face, but it’s not Josh, I would know those hands touching me anywhere.

I try to focus my eyes, to see him, to make sure he is safe, as his thumbs brush across my lips. “Baby, what happened?” Archer pleads desperately, just his words soothe something inside of me, but it’s still not enough.

“Baby?” Someone chokes in confusion, and Archer’s panicked and questioning stare meets mine, ignoring whomever spoke completely.

“What happened?” he asks, sounding scared, and he should be, my father knows his fucking name.

My breaths are still coming in quick pants, unable to respond, but my eyes dart around and find the entire team watching me. Nova flicks his stare between me and his best friend, his body over mine, his hands on my face, and I see him piece it together, piece us together.

“Everyone out, now,” he booms, ordering them all in his no-nonsense captain’s tone. To my surprise they obey instantly, all of them shuffling back towards the ice, with the exception of Josh and Archer.

“I thought they hated each other?” I hear Landon Cooper say as he retreats.

“You never had hate sex before, Cooper? You should try it sometime,” Nova snaps, ushering him out of the room, until it’s just the three of us left.

Archer’s hands are still cradling my face, like I am the most precious thing in the world to him, and I try to regulate my breathing, but I’m still panicking too much. Josh drops down beside us, as Archer slumps his full body to the ground, releasing my face, and pulling me into his lap.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers, tightening his hold on me, and going through the motions of inhaling and exhaling deeply, until I begin to copy him. “I’m here, you’re okay, just tell us what happened?” he begs, searching my stare, and my eyes drop to where my discarded phone now lies on the floor.

Josh follows my stare and instantly snatches it up, searching for whatever is bothering me, and it doesn’t take long for him to make his way to the call log. “Who called you? It says an unknown number. Was it Jasper?” he asks, eyes searching mine, but I’m already shaking my head, my body still trembling.

“It was my father,” I choke, and Archer’s entire body flinches around mine, as Josh curses, but no more words come, because what would I even say? That I was selfish enough to let myself fall for him, and now, because he did the same in return, his life is in danger?

My father was right, I am pathetic.

They wait until my breathing evens out and my body stops shaking, before they help me to my feet, both of them sharing conspiring looks, but I don’t say a word. I don’t even shower, none of us do, I just let them grab my stuff, and Archer grips his hand in mine, as Josh pulls away to quickly speak with Nova. Fuck. Things must be bad if those two are talking, but all I can do is replay my father’s words over and over again in my mind.

I look forward to seeing both you and Archer very soon.

My hands once again begin to shake, even with Archer’s strong hold on one of them, and I can see how worried he is, how my darkness is fucking infecting his perfect light, and all it does is make me feel sick. I barely even notice us getting back to the house, Josh guiding us, Archer’s hand staying in mine the entire time. When we get there, Hallie is waiting, her eyes look worried as they wash over me, but I can’t meet her stare, and thankfully, Archer leads me straight upstairs.

The next thing I know, my clothes are off and the shower is spraying down on me. Archer is still there, still holding my hand, as he washes my entire body. He’s done this countless times in the last couple of weeks, but now every swipe of his hands pulls a pained gasp from the back of my throat. It hurts, everything fucking hurts, every mark, every memory, all of them swallowing me whole, until all I can see is my father’s face, my brother’s dead body. I don’t even register that I’m crying, until Archer is wiping away my tears, and it only makes me cry harder.

Once dry and in some fresh clothes, he leads me to bed, tucking me into his side. It isn’t long before Josh appears with a sandwich, a bottle of whiskey, and my phone. I take only the whiskey, uncapping it and swallowing nearly half without taking a breath. I see Archer and Josh share another concerned look, silently communicating, and in other circumstances I might be happy they are finally bonding with one another, but the only thing on my mind right now is getting rid of the pain in my chest.

My phone rings again, and my eyes flare in a panic, but Josh quickly cuts off the call and turns my phone on silent. “It’s Jasper,” he murmurs, tossing it onto my bedside table, all I can do is inhale more whiskey.

Josh takes a seat at my desk, as Archer’s hand rubs up and down my back in firm circles, and it’s the only thing keeping me sane. Without him I’d be lost completely, and I fucking hate myself for it. We sit in silence, the pair of them watching me like it’s their sole mission in life, and guilt and grief drown me like fucking poison.

I hate my father. I hate what he did to Jasper, what he did to me, what he did to Ryan, but I hate even more that he still has the power to hurt me. I finish the bottle of whiskey. Josh is quick to grab me another bottle, while we all pretend we don’t see my phone lighting up with countless calls from my brother.

Maybe I understand now why he ran and never looked back.

That’s the last thought I have, before I pass out completely.