Body Checking (Men of Havoc #3)

18

THE TEAM is just finishing their open skate and I check my watch. I have to time this perfectly and I also need an alibi because this could get me in some pretty deep shit. There’s only one person I can trust with a secret this big.

I blow my whistle and the guys stop and begin to head off to the locker room. “Santos. I need you in my office when you’re done.”

The guys tease like he’s in trouble with the principal and I grab my clipboard and jog up to my office where I wait only ten minutes before Joaquín is knocking on my door.

“You wanted to see me, Coach?”

“Yeah. Come in and close the door,” I tell him and watch his eyes grow with worry. “You’re not in trouble,” I assure him.

He breathes a sigh of relief and drops into a chair. “Okay, well, if I’m not in trouble then what? ”

“I need a favor. A big one. It’s something that no one can ever find out about or else you’ll be answering to a new head coach.”

“Oh shit, Coach. Are you in trouble with the law?”

I shake my head. “No, but I could be if you don’t help me.”

“Anything,” he says and rests his elbows on his knees, leaning closer into me. “Just say it and you got it.”

I scratch my beard and blurt it out. “I’m going to teach Maren’s ex-boyfriend a lesson and I need you to be my alibi.”

A look of confusion crosses his face and I explain all that happened while we were on the road, and how I plan to take care of it.

“I’d appreciate it if you could lend me a hooded sweatshirt, something with your name if possible, and borrow your car. I need to leave my truck here and I could either drop you at your house before I go, or just come back here and you can leave.”

“Fuck that. I’m coming with you,” he grits from between his teeth.

“No, Joaquín. You can’t do that. You’re much more recognizable than me and if anyone is going to go down should something happen, it cannot be you. ”

He nods with a disappointed look on his face, but I have to protect him. He’s my player and it’s my job to make sure that his reputation remains squeaky clean. Me…I don’t care. The only thing that could cause me pain would be losing Maren.

“Alright. Jordan is here and Jolie isn’t far. I’ll just see if they want to order lunch and eat here while we wait for you to get back. I promise, Coach, I won’t say anything…to Jordan.”

“Santos,” I growl.

“Coach, I can’t hide this from her. Plus, she can also be a good alibi for you. Trust me. If there’s anyone on your side, it’s my girl.”

“Alright. Fine. Just don’t tell anyone else.” He crosses his heart, pretends to zip and lock his lips, and throws the imaginary key away. “I’ll meet you by the exit doors. I’ll grab your keys and hoodie from you there.”

He nods and hustles out of my office and I send Maren a quick text then leave my phone in my office. Santos meets me at the exit and hands off both items, and wishes me luck with a pat on the shoulder. I need more than luck to pull this off. I need a prayer.

Joaquín’s car rumbles as I come to a stop right behind a black Navigator which I assume is Walker’s. I look around and notice how quiet the street is, and see nobody walking a dog or even stepping out to get their mail. It couldn’t be anymore perfect.

I unfold from the car –how the fuck does that kid drive this thing with his long legs?-- and swagger up the sidewalk to the front door. The house is bright white with a black door and trim and if I wasn’t here to do some damage, I might actually be interested in viewing this home that is for sale and listed with Walker.

The door sits slightly ajar and I knock loudly.

“Please come in,” a voice calls and I push in, shutting it behind me and clicking the lock.

“Hello?” I call out.

“In the kitchen,” he replies and I walk through the large corridor until I reach the open kitchen and living room.

“Hi there. Walker Rosemead. You must be Mr. Thompson.” He holds out his hand and greets me with the fake name I gave him when I scheduled this viewing.

I take his hand in my and squeeze it hard, crushing it and causing him to wince. “I’m your worst fucking nightmare, is who I am. ”

I yank him to me and trade out my hand wrapped around his for my hand around his throat. His mouth opens as if he’s trying to speak, but the words don’t find their way out. Most likely because he barely has enough room to breath a sliver of air.

“Your girl thinks it’s funny to be mean to my girl, Maren. You know the one you dumped over a fucking text? The one you were cheating on?”

His eyes begin to water and his face reddens the tighter my grip grows. He’s shorter than me and scrawny in comparison. I size him up, scanning him from head to toe, and know that all it would take was a hard snap and I could break this piece of shit.

“You need to talk to your girlfriend and admit that you dated Maren and that she wasn’t some stalker pining after your bitch ass. After that, remind her that if she or you say one word about my Maren, I’ll hunt you both down and beat you until my knuckles are bloodied.”

I loosen my grip on his throat and he gasps for air. When he opens his mouth to speak, I realize this guy is not only an ass but a dumb one at that.

“Did Maren pay you to say all of those things?” he chokes out.

With one hand still wrapped loosely around his throat, I cock back the other and slam right into his stomach .

“You think Maren would have to pay me to kick the shit out of you? Nah. This is a perk of the job. The job being protecting the woman I love from assholes like you.”

I throw my fist and connect with his jaw, the crack echoing off the walls and tall ceiling. I release my hold on him and he slumps to the floor. I reach down and pull him up by his shoulders and ram my knee into his gut and throw an elbow at his cheek.

“You think it’s funny to make a woman feel less than her worth?” I give him an uppercut and hear the clank of his teeth as they gnash together. “Does it make you feel more like a man?”

He coughs and a few drops of blood land on the shiny tiled floor. I take a couple steps back, giving him an opportunity to recover before I continue.

“Did you and your girlfriend laugh when you talked about how you left Maren sitting all by herself at the restaurant? Oh wait…she didn’t know you were cheating on her, did she?”

He looks up at me, blood dripping from his lips and fire in his eyes. He growls and uses all of his strength to come barreling at me. I decide to let the guy have a shot because it’s the last one he'll get.

His head goes straight into my stomach and he wraps me up, like a linebacker rushing the quarterback. I stumble back but hit the wall before falling to the ground. He throws a punch and connects with my cheek and I decide he’s had enough.

“Maren was nothing more than a lousy lay. I thought she’d be a little more adventurous since no one is banging down her door,” he spits out with a snarl.

Those words are the last straw and I stop holding back. “Maybe that’s because you’re a fucking pencil dick and wouldn’t know good pussy if it sat on your face.”

I push him off of me and punch him once, breaking his nose, twice, splitting his lip, and three, dropping his ass to the floor. He curls into a ball and groans.

Before I deliver my final blow, I tell him, “Speak about me or Maren to anyone, and you better pack your fucking bags and get the hell out of this city as fast as you can. Because if I find you, I’ll be happy to live my life in stripes if need be.”

I bring my foot back and kick it straight into his already sore stomach. He whines in agony and I step over him. I spot a tray of cookies and water sitting on the kitchen counter and grab one of each, along with a napkin, on my way out. I swipe the small bit of blood from my lip and take a bite of the cookie. My face sours at the stale cookies.

“These cookies are as shitty and dry as you.” I throw it on the floor next to him and take my water to go .

I slam the door behind me and make sure the hood is pulled completely over my head to conceal my face, and slide into the driver’s seat of Joaquín’s Porsche and let my foot lay on the gas, taking me all the way back to the arena with a smile on my face.