Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (44 page)

The final blow, and Scott wasn’t just going to stand here and take it. He’d read things all wrong. Maybe Zach and Zovko were going through a dry spell because of Tyler. Well, too fucking bad. He wouldn’t be used—
Zach
had taught him that he deserved better.

He inclined his head and slid past Zach. Every damn step made him feel like he’d ripped his heart from his chest and was crushing it under his feet, but he made it across the room. Got to the door and held it wide open. “Get out.”

If Zach had hesitated, or said…
anything
, Scott would have changed his mind and asked him to stay. He wanted some reason to believe they could get past this. A glimmer of hope would be enough.

But Zach left the room. He gave Scott
nothing
.

Alone, still standing with the door open, Scott nodded to himself. He should have been prepared for this. He’d learned real young how quickly he could be cast aside when he’d served his purpose. And he’d done that, hadn’t he?

I can’t lose Becky too. Or…or my little girl.
Scott let go of the door. Fell against it as pain tore into his chest. He gulped in air, releasing it in a sob.
I need to go home. Need to go before it’s not mine anymore.

* * * *

Wednesday, two days after the game in New York, the team took a bus to Philadelphia, hustling off when they arrived without saying much to one another. Tyler was relieved that he could spend a few minutes just hanging out with Raif at the hotel and avoid the uncomfortable tension hanging over all the players. He hated Scott being sent home as much as anyone, but he was more worried about his friend being all right than the loss of one of their best power forwards.

He sighed as he changed into his suit, dropping onto one of the beds to stare at the ceiling and just chilling while Raif finished his shower. A few of the guys grumbling about how Scott had abandoned them had pissed off Luke so much that he’d gotten right in their faces, looking for a fight. Callahan had threatened to suspend him, which had shut Luke up, but he’d been quiet and moody since. Tyler wished he could do something to help his friends, but he was at a loss. He just tried his best not to lose his own temper. And hoped he played well enough to bring the guys’ spirits up with a win.

Of course he’d been all set on winning the last game, and look at how well that had turned out.

Coming out of the bathroom in only a towel, Raif stopped at the end of the bed and shook his head. “You’ll wrinkle your suit like that, Ty. Sit up.”

Tyler sat up, wiping the scowl off his face at Raif’s dark look. “Sorry, Sir.”

“Don’t be. I’d simply like you to present yourself well. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t mope quite so much. It makes me feel like I’m the only one grateful for all we have gained.” His lips slanted when Tyler’s brow furrowed. “I love you. Chicklet is happy for us and is already trying to convince me to move in with the three of you. Last week I wasn’t sure how long I would be with this team. Or if I wanted to consider extending my contract. Today, I am willing to do anything to stay. I have a reason to make a life in Dartmouth. With you.”

“I want that.” Tyler shot to his feet and hugged Raif, laughing when Raif muttered something about getting water stains on his suit. It was like he’d been sitting in a dark room, a switch had been flipped, and the light was suddenly on. “Did you tell her you’d move in? You can share my room, I’ll clean it up and stop being so messy. I told my mom about us and she can’t wait to meet you. She’ll come down this summer, and we can go sailing because she really likes that—”

“From depressing to exhausting.” Raif planted a solid kiss on Tyler’s lips. “I’d love to meet her. I take it things are going better with her and the man you don’t like?”

“I just got in a good mood, I don’t want to talk about him.” Tyler hadn’t told Raif much about Jules, but he’d let a bit slip after the last time he’d talked to his mom. Enough to make it a nonissue. As a Dom, Raif was always keeping an eye out for potential triggers, but there weren’t any for him to worry about. Tyler went to grab his phone off the bed and checked the time. “We don’t have to be anywhere for…”

“You’re not sore anymore?” Raif came up behind Tyler, his lips brushing his ear. “You do realize you may be tender every time I take you for a while.”

“Mmhmm.” Tyler wasn’t sure he cared. He leaned back against Raif, closing his eyes as Raif kissed his throat. “You gonna make me wait until after the game?”

“Yes,” Raif said, but his tone was husky and he didn’t stop lightly sucking and biting along Tyler’s throat. He brought one hand to the front of Tyler’s neck and the other down to squeeze his ass. “I won’t toy with you first though. I’ll drive myself mad.”

“Not seeing a problem with that.” Tyler reached behind him, hooking his thumb to the towel at Raif’s hip. His phone vibrated in his hand, and he tried to ignore it, but then Raif’s phone chimed on the dresser where he’d left it with his neatly folded clothes.

Tyler checked the text and saw it had gone out to the whole team. A time and place for them all to meet for a “required team activity.” The bus would be heading out in fifteen minutes.

So much for having some time to rest before the game tonight. Tyler sighed as Raif moved away from him, dressing so fast that Tyler didn’t have much of a chance to enjoy the view. He put on his shoes and went out to wait for Raif in the hall.

A few of the other guys were gathered near the elevator only a few feet away from the room. There wasn’t much conversation, but the atmosphere was more anticipation than pessimism. Only the rookies looked worried. Brad Kelly, who’d been called up from the minors for the second time this season to replace Scott, stuck close to Kral and eyed Mason like he thought the big man might come over and beat the crap out of him any second. Hunt stood by Callahan, clearly not by choice. He was glowering at the assistant coach—nothing new there. Richards was practically attached to White’s hip, nodding at everything White said to him and trying to look all cool and relaxed. The way he practically bounced in place ruined the effort.

Coach Shero came out of his room, smiling and inclining his head to the veterans as he made his way through the crowd. The team split into three separate elevators, getting off on the parking level and quickly boarding the waiting bus. The bus stayed idle for about ten minutes to give stragglers a chance to catch up. Ramos and Luke didn’t make it, but Tyler figured Ramos would make sure they weren’t late for the team activity. Bower was also missing. Not a good sign.

After a short drive, they reached their destination—which was a sports complex the Flyers used in New Jersey. Tyler had never been to this one…there was no ice, just a spread of green used for soccer and football. Good for running on and stuff, but—he wrinkled his nose as he looked over the chairs, tables, pylons, balls, and nets littering every inch of the indoor field—didn’t look like anyone had planned for them to do conditioning here.

Right outside the office at the front of the field, Shero spoke softly to Callahan, who nodded and went to the whiteboard, writing out player names in three groups of seven. Grinning at the men’s obvious confusion, Callahan went to his sports bag and pulled out three blindfolds and three short lengths of rope.

“Coach Shero thought you could all use a team-building exercise, and I couldn’t agree more. So we’re sending you out into a minefield.” Callahan gestured at the chaotic spread. “One man at a time goes through as fast as he can, then returns to tag in the next player. Fall and you’re dead. Bumping into things won’t kill you, but might hurt a bit. And you’ll run the course blindfolded.”

“But…” Kelly ducked his head when Kral frowned at him.

Callahan held a hand up, exchanging a look with Kral before speaking. “Go ahead, Kelly.”

Kelly stared out at the field. “Are we supposed to feel our way? I don’t get it.”

“Your hands will be tied behind your back, so feeling your way would be difficult.”

“Tied?” Kelly paled. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Maybe, but I haven’t told you the best part yet. You’ll be listening for instructions from your teammates. You’re allowed to spread out, so long as you don’t step onto the course and there’s someone waiting at the starting point. You will work together to get each player through safely. The losing teams will be cleaning up this mess.” Callahan seemed to enjoy the low grumbling as the men took in the “mess.” He grinned as they finally quieted down. “The winning team will get a steak dinner before the game. You have five minutes to discuss strategy with your group.”

The groups quickly split. Tyler found himself matched up with Kelly, Kral, Luke—whom he hadn’t seen come in—Richards, Keaton Manning, an Irish forward who’d been with the team forever, and Vadim Zetsev, a Russian right-winger who kept to himself and wasn’t friendly with anyone.

Manning grabbed the pile of orange mesh pinnies and started handing them out, his lilt adding to his chipper tone. “We’ve got this, lads. All the old guys are on the other teams. All we have to do is move fast and listen close. Three of us have accents, so we have the advantage.”

Kral pulled on his pinnie and laughed. “I don’t have an accent. I’ve lived in the states for almost ten years!”

Okay, Tyler hadn’t really noticed before, but if he listened closely, he could catch a hint of Kral’s German inflection. He grinned and put his hand on Kral’s shoulder. “You’re wrong, but Manning is right. It’s a good thing.”

“I guess,” Kral said.

Luke leaned his forearm on Tyler’s shoulder. “What about me?”

“You talk so much no one will have a problem recognizing your voice.” Snorting as Luke gave him the finger, Kral looked over Tyler, Kelly, and Richards. “And you three sound like you’re about twelve, so that helps.”

“Exactly.” Manning gave Kelly a one-armed hug. “Tyler will go first, since he’s been with the team long enough to hear the difference between us all. Kelly, you stay here. Richards, you go to the other end and watch from there. The rest of us will spread out along the side and talk only when we can clearly see what’s in front of him. Good?”

Sounded like a plan. Tyler glanced over at the other groups, pleased to see Raif had taken charge of his, even though it could mean a loss for Tyler’s. He tried not to laugh as he watched Pischlar calmly shake his head at whatever Mason, who’d decided to lead the last group, was saying.

The groups gathered at the starting line and Tyler put on the blindfold. He wasn’t sure who tied his wrists behind his back, but the knots were secure and he lost track of what he was supposed to be doing as he tested his restraints. A whistle blew and he heard Raif shout “slow down!” But he hadn’t been moving, so…

So he had to listen to his own group. He took a few steps.

“Sharp left, Vanek. Directly to your left two steps, then walk straight.” Kral’s voice.

Tyler nodded and quickly followed the directions. There was a lot of yelling, but he blocked everything out aside from Kral.

“Step to your right, you’ve got a pylon right in front of you. Don’t go too far because there’s a table about a foot away. Perfect. Manning is taking over now.”

“You’re ahead of the others, lad. Keep going! Wait!” Manning laughed. “To the left, about six feet. Good. Now straight. Watch that ball!”

Stumbling as his foot clipped something heavy, Tyler blinked behind the blindfold and tried to gain his bearings. He’d turned a little with the near fall. The “ball” must have been a weighted one.

“There you go, well done. Sorry ’bout that.” Manning was silent, so Tyler didn’t move until he spoke again. “You’re facing the wrong way. Turn about forty-five degrees to your right. Yes! Okay, now step to the left. You’re clear for about three feet. Carter has you.”

Luke guided Tyler around a few obstacles, then let him know he was in Zetsev’s area.
Zetsev’s tone was sharp, but his instructions were clear and suddenly Tyler felt hands on his shoulders. Heard Richards as he was spun around. “We’re fucking owning them all, Vanek. Take three steps. Listen for Zets.”

One man, then another, guided Tyler back to the starting line. He exhaled as Kelly pulled off the blindfold and slapped his back. “You rock! Mason’s team already lost a guy. Wish me luck!”

After Kelly untied his wrists, Tyler helped him with the blindfold and tried to tie the younger man up good enough so the trainer who was watching them didn’t have to come over. Raif’s group had just gotten a two-minute delay because one of their guys had slipped his restraints.

Kelly started forward, opening and closing his hands before walking into the side of a table Tyler tried to warn him about. Callahan ran over and adjusted the ropes before pulling Kelly back to the start.

Callahan glanced over at Tyler. “A little too tight.”

“Sorry, Kelly!” Tyler laughed as Kelly surged forward. “Stop! Okay, to the left. Perfect!”

They went through six men, maintaining the lead. Manning went last and he managed to hit every obstacle as they all tried to direct him ahead of Raif’s group, who’d finally found their rhythm. Manning lunged over the finish line just a step before Raif.

Kral pulled off Manning’s blindfold without undoing his restraints and lifted him up as they all hugged the Irishman. The last group stopped, but Callahan shouted that no one was going anywhere until they finished, so the entire team came together, cheering as Pischlar reached the end.