Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (15 page)

But maybe Raif wasn’t really that man. Maybe he never had been.

Tyler tried to tell himself he didn’t care.

* * * *

A creak on the wood floors in the hall, but Laura hadn’t heard the door open. She usually slept very lightly when Chicklet wasn’t lying next to her. That anyone had gotten into the house without her hearing them was disturbing.

It’s probably just Tyler.

Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, she frowned. Only 10:30—he was rarely home this early unless Chicklet asked him to be. Paranoia almost had her reaching for her handgun under the mattress, but she stopped herself. Her nerves were shot, the last thing she needed was to be walking out into the hall with a loaded gun in her hand. She wasn’t mad enough at Tyler to shoot him.

Punch him? Maybe. Very few of the men she worked with knew about their relationship, but those who did had to comment after the fight at the gym. Tyler’s attitude had them asking if she needed a spare set of cuffs to bring home. One suggested keeping her
“boytoy” on an ankle monitor when she let him off his leash.

Tyler wasn’t her—damn it! She grabbed her red silk robe before slipping into the hall silently, setting thoughts of Tyler aside until she made sure
he
was the one in the house. One could only be threatened so many times, see brothers and sisters of the badge laid to rest in a velvet-lined box covered with a flag, before those seconds of uncertainty in a quiet house became possible life or death. The hall was empty. A noise came from the kitchen. A drawer opening.

Knives. She kept close to the wall where the floorboards wouldn’t creak. Her skin was cold, grew colder still with the sheen of sweat slicking her flesh. Every single slashed
-up, stabbed corpse she’d ever seen flashed through her mind, pictures with bloody bodies followed by the killer’s eyes. Her palms grew moist. She shook with nervous energy as she crept up to the opening in the hall that led to the kitchen.

The sound of the fridge door opening made her breath
rush out in relief, but a bang stopped her short. Steady, repeated banging. She frowned and glanced into the kitchen.

It
was
Tyler. Hitting his head against the freezer door over and over. She shook her head and walked into the kitchen to stand behind him, tugging at his arm to stop his head from connecting with the fridge again. “What are you doing? You—”

Groaning, he took her by the wrist, spinning with the motion so she stood with the fridge at her back and him pressed up against her. His bottom lip was a still a little swollen from the fight, but he didn’t seem to notice as he covered her mouth with his, kissing her hard and rough.

Her fingers latched on to the collar of his jacket as her head did a disorienting twirl, likely from lack of oxygen and way too much heat spilling into her from the boy. She wasn’t sure whether to pull him closer or push him away. His tentative kisses when Chicklet directed a scene between them usually annoyed her, but this was nice. She closed her eyes and tipped her head to the side as he slid his lips across her cheek, then grazed her throat with his teeth. He tugged at the belt to her robe.

She found herself unzipping his jacket and rubbing her hand over his jean
-covered erection before her brain finally caught up. They shouldn’t—she pressed her hand to his cheek to urge him to look at her. “We don’t do this. Not without Chicklet.”

He shook his head and placed his hands on her hips, drawing her close so she could feel his length against her belly. “Please, Laura. I need you. I need a woman so fucking bad.”

“Any woman will do?” She rolled her eyes, twisting a little to put some space between them. “I’m flattered. Really.”

“No, it has to be you. You understand and Chicklet won’t understand and
…” He swallowed hard, red blotches spreading high on his cheeks as he met her eyes. “She’s not here, is she? She’d want me to tell her how badly I fucked up. A punishment would be good, but she’d make me think about things, and I don’t want to think. I need to feel things in a way that makes sense. Wanting you makes sense to me.”

Wanting
him
didn’t make sense to her, and yet…she wouldn’t deny he’d gotten her all nice and wet. Chicklet had gone back to her family bar to take over while her father was sick. She hadn’t put any restrictions on Laura or Tyler, so there was nothing to stop them from giving one another pleasure.

But why the sudden rough, wild desire? Her mind wouldn’t let her just go with it. She had to have a good reason to let Tyler have her. She smiled, stroking his smooth jaw with her fingertips. “What happened, Tyler? Why do you need this now?”

“He rejected me. I thought I’d finally… I couldn’t say what he wanted me to. He touched me and I would’ve given him anything he asked for. Except that. Scares the shit out of me.” He dropped his head back and groaned. “So fucking
stupid
. As if not saying the words makes it less real. I don’t even know who I am anymore!”

“Shh.” Laura placed her fingers over his lips. “I know who you are. And I get it. When I’m shared at the club, I crave the familiar when it’s over. Chicklet is my safe, stable place to land—so are you.” The last was a lie, but seemed to comfort him, so she kept going. “I’m happy to be that for you. I won’t make you talk about anything, but I’ll listen when you’re ready to face this.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready.”

She slid her robe off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her naked. She smiled as his breath caught. “Does that really matter now?”

His pupils dilated. He leaned over her, fisting one hand in her hair as his mouth descended to hers. “No.”

They moved together, removing his jacket, kissing and biting as he peeled off his
T-shirt, stopping just long enough for him to get it over his head. She undid his jeans and pulled them down with his boxers, ready to take him in her mouth. He jerked her to her feet, lifted her against the fridge, using it to support her weight as he angled his dick to her pussy with one hand.

He slammed into her and they both shuddered. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he drew out, bracing herself as he began to piston in and out with a force that edged on pain. Tender loving wasn’t something she could take from a man, but mindless fucking pushed all the right buttons.

Every part of their bodies glistened with sweat, causing them to slide against each other, making her back slip against the fridge. The friction within built up the sensations until they burst out and a scream escaped her lips. She clawed at his back as he thrust in roughly, clenching as she felt his release. He cursed and held her tight, kissing her shoulder, whispering nonsense.

So quick. Satisfying, but there’d been a point to this. More than helping him with the desire that confused him. More than giving him a
“safe place to land.” She clung to him, trying to remember her own motivations.

And then it came to her. She kissed his cheek as he carefully withdrew and lowered her to her feet. “I do understand, please know that.” Another kiss and she waited for his nod. Then whispered
, “But he did this to you, Tyler. Raif is the reason you lost control. You’ve done so well in getting him to see you want him. Keep doing that until you can say the words he needs to hear. Don’t let him forget you.”

“I don’t want him to forget me.” Tyler hugged her and rested his forehead on her shoulder. “But the man is going to drive me insane.”

She placed her hand on his sweat-soaked curls and murmured quietly, “But it will be worth it. He can do things for you that I can’t.” She gently pushed Tyler away. Picked up her robe and put it on, meeting his eyes again once the belt was tied and she was fully covered once again. “Think of him holding you the way you held me. Of surrendering to him as I surrendered to you.”

He stared at her. Let out a rough sound. Then went back to banging his head on the fridge.

This time, she let him. And smiled as she went back to bed. “Goodnight, Tyler. And sweet dreams.”

“M
ommy, why are you mad at Demmy?”

Scott froze with his hand still on the cereal box he’d been putting away. All the muscles in his body tensed. He and Becky had been
…pleasant in front of Casey over the past few days, but their little girl was observant. She frowned at her mother over the table, milk dripping from her spoon.

Becky opened her mouth. Closed it. Then gave an
“everything’s okay” mommy smile as she finished packing Casey’s lunch. “I’m not mad at Demmy,
mon petit chou
. There’s a lot going on with the team right now and we’re all worried.”

Casey put her spoon down beside her bowl and nodded seriously. “With the
playoffs coming soon, Demmy should be on the ice.” Her eyes teared and she lowered her face to her hands. “Uncle Tim wouldn’t have suspended the boys! I want him to come back!”

“Oh, baby!” Becky dropped to her knees and pulled Casey into her arms. She made a soft shushing sound as Scott stood there, feeling useless. He rubbed Becky’s shoulders, not sure she’d want him to touch her, but needing to be close to her as she whispered to their daughter. “I do too. But he’s with us always. You know that, right?”

“I want to see Demmy play with Daddy! And Daddy is always gone! Everyone is going away!” Casey sobbed and Scott’s heart broke. If only he hadn’t fucked up so bad, his little girl wouldn’t be dealing with all this. He blinked back his own tears as Casey reached for his hand over Becky’s shoulder. “Daddy loves you. He’ll forgive you even if you’ve been bad.”

Scott blinked fast and laughed. “You think I’ve been bad?”

Casey sighed and nodded, wiping away her tears with her tiny fists. “Uncle Luke and Vanek aren’t playing either. I read blogs, Demmy. You are all bad together. But I will kick you if you have bunnies in your hotel room like the reporter said—”

Becky put her hand over Casey’s mouth. “I told you no more blogs. You know Demmy loves us and
… Okay, we are not talking about puck bunnies. You shouldn’t know about them!”

Laughing behind Becky’s hand, Casey said something. Then repeated it when her mother moved her hand. “Bunnies like kissing hockey players. They have big red lips and they’re gross. I don’t like seeing them near my daddies, but we have to be nice to them.”

Scott’s eyes widened. He completely agreed with Becky. Casey really had to stop reading those “sports blogs.” “Says who?”

“Hunt and Richards. I asked them last time
Mommy let me go to the locker room and I saw them helping the bunnies fix their clothes.” Casey looked very sad. She fiddled with her spoon. “Bunnies are poor, you know. They can’t buy clothes that fit them right.”

Okay, he was going to have a talk with Hunt. And Richards. They shouldn’t be trying to explain
anything
to Casey. He picked up the wood-handled brush from the table and ran it through Casey’s curly blonde hair, gathering it into a ponytail then tying it with the soft pink scrunchie waiting on his wrist. “Casey, you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll be back on the ice soon.”

“And
Mommy and you and Daddy will be happy again?”

“Hey, we all saw your report card. That makes us all very happy!” Scott leaned over to hug Casey tight. Things were a mess right now, but he’d fix them. He refused to consider a morning
when he wasn’t on the road where he wouldn’t see Casey and Becky. This was his home, and unless he was behind bars, nothing could keep him from coming back here. “Casey, all that matters is everyone in this house cares very much about you. And about each other. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I want us to win.” Casey stared at her spoon. “We won’t win if you’re in trouble.”

“I’ll stay out of trouble.”

“Promise?” She gave him the
sweetest, most trusting look.

All he could do was nod and make a promise he’d never break. Not if he could help it. And damn him, he’d make sure he didn’t disappoint her. “Pinky swear, baby girl. Now hurry up and get ready for school before you miss your bus.”

Not long after, he kissed Casey’s cheek and stood in the doorway, letting the cold in as he watched Becky walk Casey to the bus stop. He waited for Becky to join him before shutting the door. Then braced himself for the silence.

Instead, Becky shoved him against the wall and broke into tears. “You know
, when I got that call about Tim, I thought I’d lost you! No one knew you’d stayed behind to sign stuff and show Justina’s brother a few moves. We thought you were with Tim. Every time you’re late, I see you inside that car!”

Scott shifted away from her, seeing that night again, thinking of how easy it had been to tell Tim to go on without him. “I should have been with him. I might have seen the other car—”

“You would be dead!”

“No! He would be alive!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! Everything would be different
, and I wouldn’t be fucking everything up right now because he would tell me—he’d tell me…” Scott pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. Tim had seen everything. Known everything. He’d have watched Zach with Zovko and told Scott what to do. Or made suggestions. All that mattered was he would be here if Scott had gotten into the damn car! “I wish I’d gone with him!”

“I don’t! I miss him, but losing you—” Becky grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “When I heard you’d stolen a car
, all I thought was ‘Is he drunk?’ and then I curled up on my bed and pictured you on those icy roads. You hitting a tree and leaving me for good. I put on a brave face for Casey after losing Tim. And Tim…you know how much he meant to all of us. If I lost you… I’ll always be there for our baby, but you make me whole. I wouldn’t be whole if you were gone.”

“I wouldn’t drive drunk, Becky. You know that!”

“And I’m supposed to know you’d steal a car sober?”

“Only one
specific man’s car.” He wrapped her up in his arms, wishing he’d considered how much he’d scare her before going all crazy. “Still stupid. I get that.”

She relaxed against him and let out a heavy sigh.
“There’s more to this. You stayed up all that night. Last night, you slept on the sofa. What’s going on, Scott?”

“
I just need time to sort things out. After I saw Zach—”

“Saw
Zach what?”

No. He couldn’t tell her that Zach had kissed another man. This was something Scott and Zach had to figure out
, and he wouldn’t have Becky picking sides. He couldn’t help but wonder if the right explanation would have her siding with her husband. They were in a ménage relationship, but only because Zach had needs that could only be met by a man.

Becky shared Zach with Scott. Maybe she wouldn’t understand him getting jealous. Maybe she’d think he was making a big deal out of nothing.

Maybe she’ll decide I’m too much trouble to put up with anymore.

She smacked hi
s chest, snapping him out of the thoughts that had him sinking deeper and deeper into hopelessness. Her eyes narrowed and her hard expression made it almost impossible to believe she ever knelt to anyone. “Saw. Him.
What
? I know that look, Scott. You’re hiding how you feel because you don’t think it’s important. We’ve discussed this.”

“Yeah, but this time it really
isn’t
important.” He forced a smile and bent forward to steal a quick kiss. “Don’t worry so much.”

“Nice try, mister.” She huffed and slipped past him to get her briefcase. “Zach shouldn’t be at practice long. I want the three of us to have lunch. If he’d done something to hurt me, you’d be ready to kick his ass. You better be ready to tell me what’s going on before I have to drag it out of the two of you
, or I might embarrass us all and crack him upside the head in the middle of the restaurant.”

He grinned, wrapping his arms around her from behind before she could walk out the door. Kissing her neck, he pictured the look on Zach’s face if his sweet little sub smacked him. And how red Becky’s face would get when she realized she’d so have to pay for it once she got home. “This I gotta see.”

She shook her head, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “You’re impossible! Get some sleep. Then play with your tools and try to relax. You’re back on the ice this weekend and I can’t wait. I’m tired of you moping around the house.”

Moping?
He followed Becky to the door, lips twisted in a frown. “I haven’t been moping. I don’t mope. Things are what they are. I’m dealing just fine.”

She spun around with the door open and patted his cheek. “That’s the thing,
mon amour
. Sometimes you don’t have to ‘deal’ with things. Not alone anyway. You’re allowed to be upset with Zach. I let him know when I am because my ass is very sore if I’m not up-front with him. Maybe I should get him to spank you. Might help.”

“Not happening!” He laughed as she winked at him, but the sound died abruptly as he shut the door behind her. He stared at the dark wood and shook his head. He
had
tried to talk to Zach and all Zach seemed to care about was the mistakes Scott had made. There were plenty, which made Scott wrong and Zach right. Always.

Both Becky and Zach had told him again and again that he was as much a part of this relationship as either of them. And he’d believed them, but now
…he wasn’t so sure. Talking about how he felt when shit happened wasn’t easy, but he could do it.

The problem was, Zach didn’t care.

* * * *

Stuffy and boiling hot and shivering and
… Luke blew his nose, pulling the blanket over his head as his brain tried to implode in his skull. He sank deeper into the bed, every part of his body aching like he’d been rolled over repeatedly by a monster truck.

This was it. He was dying.

A big hand yanked the blanket away. Luke frowned at Seb who felt his forehead. Seb clucked his tongue. “You have a fever,
mi pobrecito
. Have you taken anything?”

Before Luke could answer, Jami came into the room, his sweet, wonderful angel carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup and a tall glass of root beer. She glanc
ed over at Seb expectantly.

Seb arched a brow at her.

She jerked her chin at the top of the bed. “Please help him up and fix his pillows. He needs to eat something. I’m going to run to the store to get him some cold medicine.”

“Do we not have some,
mi cielo
?” Seb looked at Luke as he took hold of a pillow. The only warning he’d probably give before yanking the pillow out from under Luke’s head. Seb clearly wasn’t human—he never got sick and he obviously didn’t understand how miserable Luke was.

Luke dragged himself to a sitting position. Panted as the stuffy feeling practically smothered him.

Jami unfolded the legs of the tray and put it over Luke’s lap. “We have medicine, but he doesn’t like Buckley’s.”

“I see.” Seb folded his arms over his chest, making Luke nervous as he watched Jami fuss with the pillows, then pick up the spoon. He barked a laugh when Jami tested the soup with her lips and brought the spoon to Luke’s mouth. “He is not a child, Jami. Luke, feed yourself.”

Ugh, go away, Seb.
Luke closed his lips around the spoon and swallowed. The soup was salty.
Very
salty. But at least Jami had some sympathy. “She likes taking care of me.”

“As do I, but this is
too much. Take some medicine and I will see that you’re not bothered.”

“She’s not bothering me.” A racking cough tore its way out of Luke’s chest. Gah, his throat was killing him! He slumped back on the pillow. “Just go then. I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you will be because I’ll make sure of it. I—” Jami held up a finger as her phone buzzed. She pulled it out of the pocket of her tight jeans and held it to her ear as she grabbed a thermometer from the tray. “No, Mrs. Carter—sorry,
Mom
.” Jami smiled and brought the thermometer to Luke’s mouth. His lips parted and he waited with it under his tongue while Jami nodded at whatever instructions his mother was giving her. “I’m checking now. He feels warm to the touch though. Yes, I made him soup and I’m going out to get him that honey-flavored medicine you—yes, that one, I wrote it down—”

His mom would help Jami manage his illness and make him all better. Luke relaxed onto the pillows, let Jami take the thermometer, then reached for his root beer. His girl had even brought him a straw. Damn, she couldn’t be more perfect.

The glass was taken out of his hand. The straw pulled away from his lips. He glared at Seb.

Seb turned to Jami. “Please ask Luke’s mother if root beer is really the best thing for him right now.”

Oh shit.
Luke winced as he heard his mom yelling. She hated him drinking soda on a good day, which meant he’d have nothing but herb tea until he wasn’t sick anymore. This was gonna suck. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Thanks a lot, Seb.”

And hell, didn’t Seb look confused. “Do you not want to get well?”