Puck Prince (Houston Scythes Hockey #1)

22. Owen

22

OWEN

The fear in Summer’s voice was enough to yank me out of the moment with Callie (a moment I was very much enjoying) and rush me out the door. I didn’t even explain what was going on—not that I could have. I just ran, which I feel bad about.

But ever since my sister’s baby daddy got her pregnant and left her high and dry, I’ve wanted to dispose of the man in a violent fashion. Even more so if he’s making threats.

He’s coming here, she said.

Guess he wants to die.

As I rip my way down the street, my mind is scattered. Half of it is hellbent on getting to Summer as fast as possible. And if that piece of shit ex of hers happens to be there? Well, he won’t be for long.

The other half of my brain is still back at my apartment with Callie.

I had a fucking terrible day. Given the events of the last game, Coach didn’t lay into me as hard as I expected him to. But between the contract and the dad speech, I left his office with a headache.

And of course, the guys weren’t any help. They hounded me from the moment I stepped into the locker room. It only let up when I put them all in their places on the ice during practice.

By the time I got home, I was paying for it. I was both mentally and physically drained. But when Kennedy shoved Callie into the hallway—into my arms—my mood flipped.

She was a snarky little ray of sunshine at the end of a shit day, and I didn’t even have to force myself to invite her in. I actually wanted to catch up a little. Maybe even flirt. Hell, if Summer hadn’t called, it could have led to more.

Maybe it’s a good thing Summer interrupted, after all. Because that is out of the question.

It also goes against our predetermined conditions.

“Callie Coleman is off-limits,” I growl to myself. Even if things did feel different today. Even if she knows how to zig whenever I zag. Even if I leave achingly hard every time we interact, but with a stupid, dreamy smile on my face anyway.

She’s off-limits even if her eyes shift from blue to green and back again like ocean tides, depending on her mood.

She’s off-limits even if her lips curl up in the corner when she’s trying not to laugh.

She’s off-limits even with that tiny freckle in the heart of her dimple.

She’s off. Fucking. Limits.

I physically shake the thoughts from my head as I pull into the parking lot and kill the engine. I need to focus.

“Where is he?” I grunt as soon as Summer unlocks the deadbolt, letting me into her place.

“He’s not— I mean, it was just a text.” She gulps, revealing that this wasn’t just anything. “But I didn’t know if he knew where I was or if he would be ballsy enough to show up or what. But I’m fine. I promise. I just overreacted.”

But she isn’t fine. She is anything but fine.

She drops onto her couch, a rumpled tissue in her nervous hands, rocking back and forth. I sit next to her and pull her against me. “It’s okay. I’m here now. It’s okay.”

“I just wish he’d go away for good. I wish I never had to worry about it. Even here, I’m paranoid when I’m alone. I keep Nicky in the room with me at night. That kid is going to co-sleep ‘til he’s in college.” She tries to laugh but it comes out soggy.

“Can I see the texts? Did he threaten you?”

Summer tenses up. “No, it’s fine. Really.”

“Summer, I am trying to help you and Nicky. But I can’t do that without your permission.”

Summer stands up, tossing the tissue in the trash. “I overreacted, Owen. I’m sorry. I’m fine. Really.”

I stand up, too. “No, you’re not fine. You’re shaking! You’re terrified of him. I can help you. I can make sure he never texts—never calls, never comes anywhere near you—again. But I need to know who he is.”

It’s easier to see to it that he never breathes again if I have a name, but I leave that detail out for now.

“So you can what? Beat the shit out of him and get caught on camera doing it? You've been good at that recently.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” My brow furrows.

“Please, O,” she scoffs. “I watch your games, you know. And if I had to guess, your life has gotten harder since that incident with the fan.”

You have no idea.

“Owen…” She sits back down and pulls me with her. “You’ve done so much for us already. The last thing I want is for you to get in trouble—or worse—all because you wanna see Nicky’s dad out cold on the ground.”

“Try six feet under,” I mumble.

She jabs a finger in my face. “That’s what I’m talking about! I won’t have you screwing up your career for us. You’re perfectly capable of doing it on your own.”

I toss her half a grin and sigh, leaning back into the couch.

She leans back too, her gaze cast to the ceiling. “How did we get here?”

“Well—” I lace my hands behind my head. “—it all started when our mom met my piece of shit dad and knocked her up with me. Then she moved on to more piece of shit men.”

“Ooh, that’s where my dad comes in!” Summer chimes in.

“And after years of learning what love isn’t, well… I’m determined to make sure you don’t end up like that.”

She looks at me. “Like Mom, you mean?”

I flex and unflex my jaw. I don’t like talking about her. I never talk about any of this, actually. Not if I can help it.

“She was the only decent parent I’ve ever known. Even if I was with my dad and stepmom a lot,” Summer murmurs.

“I’m not saying she wasn’t a good person. She just—” I sink deeper into the cushions, the weight of the day finally catching up with me. “—wasn’t very good at the whole ‘mom thing.’ The string of men that came through the house, one dirtbag after another, made it hard to remember she even had a kid to begin with.”

“You said she left you alone a lot, right?”

“I was hiding a lot,” I correct. “Stayed in my room, headphones on. I watched hockey reruns on a TV I bought at Goodwill. I didn't even have a stand for it. I just sat in front of it on the floor.”

“That’s where the obsession began?” She nudges me with a smile, but I see the intrigue written all over her face. I’ve never willingly talked about any of this with her before.

I don’t even know why I am now. Except… I really don’t want Summer to end up like my mom. She deserves better. And Nicky definitely deserves better.

“Yeah. It’s also how I kept from hearing what those bastards were doing to her. Eventually, though, I felt guilty enough to interfere. Then they took it out on me.”

She inhales sharply.

I pat her knee with a smile that isn’t really a smile. “Your dad was the only one who didn’t. You know, for a minute there, I really thought he’d stick around. She got pregnant with you, and I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d be a family.”

“Mom was too wild to be domesticated.”

“You’re telling me,” I spit. “I told her I was hungry once. I hadn’t eaten since the day before. She just sat on the step outside in her pink waitress dress, smoking a cigarette with tears in her eyes. She didn’t even look at me. She just said, ‘ There’s pancake mix in the pantry.’ I didn’t know how to make pancakes. I ate it dry.”

“Jesus.”

I squeeze her hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours, either. My dad wasn’t great. He put up this front like he had it all together, but it was just a picture he liked to project. He drank a lot and treated my stepmom like shit. I always thought you had it better. I guess I didn’t know.”

“You know who is going to have it better, though?” I ask, and she looks at me. “Nicky.”

Summer huffs out a teary laugh. “I gave him an abusive father and have a dating history that doesn’t bode well for future prospects. I hate to say it, but I don’t think I’m doing any better than Mom did. Every guy I’ve ever been with has been a loser. My—” She stops, rephrasing. “They just got progressively worse. But it ends with Nicky’s dad. I’m not even interested in dating at this point. We don’t need anyone else.”

I give her a tight smile and another double-clutch of her hand. “The goal is we don’t end up like them. Any of them. Every man that’s come in out and out of both of our lives was a waste of space. But I don’t want you or Nicky thinking that’s how it always is. There are good men in the world. I want to show you that.”

She leans into me, head on my shoulder. “You already have. You take care of us more than you should, O.”

“I take care of you the right amount. It’s what you do for family. It’s what I should’ve done for—” I shake off the regrets still clinging to me. “Mom didn’t understand how much she meant to us. She let people convince her she was worthless and turned to substances to get through the day. She died before I could do anything to help her. But I can help you.”

“I appreciate it, Owen. More than you know. And don’t worry: the only thing I use to get through the day is an occasional glass of wine. I don’t care how much I love my son—one can only listen to nursery rhymes on YouTube so many times before they go a little batshit.”

I laugh. “Understandable. One hour of that, and I was about to launch the tablet off my balcony.”

“Someday, you’ll have kids of your own and then you’ll be doomed like the rest of us.”

“Not in the cards for me,” I say with a shudder. “No kids. No thanks.”

“Why not?” She squints at me. “I’ve seen you with Nicky. You’d make a great dad.”

“After everything I’ve been through, bringing kids into the world is the one mistake I won’t let myself make.”

And it’s true. I’ve never seen myself as a dad. Hell, I’ve never even seen myself married. If there’s anything I have learned from my past, it’s that people fuck up. Kids only become collateral damage. I was collateral damage.

I didn’t go into the full details of that with Summer. Never have, never will. What’s the point? She doesn’t need to know how badly I was abused. How I got into hockey because violence was the only thing I knew, the only place where people told me it was okay to hit and hurt.

No. I think I’ll bypass the dad route on this Game of Life board.

Even if Callie makes me feel different than anyone I’ve ever met.

Even if she drives me wild and makes me want to drive her wild.

Even if she’d look good with my baby inside of her.