Puck Prince (Houston Scythes Hockey #1)

46. Owen

46

OWEN

I can’t be in my apartment. Not when I know she’s right next door, one wall away.

Not when the image of her sobbing in my entryway is still fresh enough that it’s been hours, and I keep finding myself reaching for her.

Then I remember she lied.

Callie kept a pregnancy from me. My baby from me. If I‘d known she was pregnant, I never would’ve told people we were dating. I wouldn’t have taken her to bars and the ball and expected her to sit in the crowd at my games where anyone could get to her.

I would’ve kept her away from the press and the cameras. I would have protected her.

But she never even gave me the chance.

I take the stairs up to Summer’s place, hoping to work off some of the steam in my veins. I knock once, and my sister opens the door.

“You didn’t even check to see who it was first,” I growl.

“Hello to you, too, O. Lovely to see you.” She stands aside, waving me in. “Speaking of seeing you, I saw you on the cameras you installed, dumbass. I also heard you tear into the lot ten minutes ago and then sit in your car. I’ve been expecting you.”

I ignore the sass and walk inside. Summer locks the door behind me.

She checks the baby monitor on the counter before turning her attention back to me. “He’s still asleep, so tell me what’s going on.”

“Callie’s pregnant.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud and it doesn’t feel real.

“Oh.” She lets out a low, long whistle. “Congrats?”

I look up under lowered brows, leveling her with what I hope is a scathing look.

“Or not.” She drops down onto the couch next to me with a wince. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

That doesn’t feel right, either.

Am I sorry?

I stand up and pace across the living room. It’s a new habit of mine. I picked it up two hours ago. “She didn’t tell me. She kept it from me.”

“For how long?”

“She’s twelve weeks.”

Summer nods, silently processing everything. Meanwhile, my mind is like a tumble cycle on the dryer. I can’t seem to grab a firm hold of any thought or feeling.

“Maybe she was scared?”

“ I’m scared. I was parading her in front of the media for weeks, Summer. She’s been to games and bars and—” I shove my hands through my hair. I’m going to be bald by the end of the day. “I would’ve done everything differently if I’d known.”

“What did you do when she told you?”

There’s a part of the story I’m not exactly proud of.

“I told her to get out, then I came here.”

“Owen!” Nicky stirs on the monitor, and we both pause, waiting for him to settle. As soon as he does, Summer leans in, whisper-shouting. “Your girlfriend told you she’s pregnant with your baby, and you told her to kick rocks? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I didn’t tell her to kick rocks; I told her to go to Kennedy’s.”

“Same thing.” She shakes her head, so clearly disappointed in me. “She was wrong in not telling you, but you made everything worse.”

“I don’t know how to do—” I fling my hands around, encompassing the totality of life and parenting and child rearing in a few frantic movements. “— this . I wasn’t planning on any of this.”

“No one knows how to do this, but you have to work through it. Whether you were trying to have a baby or it was an accident, it doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters now is your baby.”

She’s probably right, but it still hurts. “I can’t believe she lied to me. After everything I’ve done for her.”

“Listen, Owen.” Summer leans forward, elbows on her knees. “Should she have told you? Yes. Is your life about to drastically change? Yes. Do you have every right to be panicked, angry, terrified? Absolutely, yes. But while you’re riding that emotional rollercoaster, just imagine how scared Callie is.”

My heart sinks. Of course, she’s scared. She’s got to be petrified.

I sink back into the couch, and Summer pats my knee. “I’m not taking sides, Owen. I’m just saying… I’ve been where she is. I know what it’s like.”

“This isn’t like you and Nicky’s dad. I didn’t hurt her,” I growl. “I’d never do that.”

“I know. But you helped her get pregnant and then left her alone to deal with it.”

I drop my head to the back of the couch. “I was pissed because of how I found out. It’s not about…” The words catch on the emotion rising in my throat. “I saw a sonogram.”

A tiny smile pulls at Summer’s lips. “And? Is the baby gonna have your giant head?”

I roll my eyes. “It was only half of the picture because I ripped it.”

“You tore it up?!” Summer looks like she’s going to hit me.

“No! Not like— We were fighting over it.” That doesn’t sound much better, but it’s the truth. “Anyway, I got the top half. There was a head and… a nose. It’s a baby. I made a baby.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

“Fucking wild,” I agree. “What’s even crazier is that it’s not even here yet, and I’ve already failed.”

“Today is just one day. You haven’t messed it all up.”

“Not just today. I should’ve protected Callie more the last few weeks. Miles’s fiancée is pregnant, and he kept her tucked away from the spotlight and the chaos until recently. I should’ve done that.”

Summer waves me off, suddenly serious. “I promise you Miles has messed up in ways you don’t know about. Everyone does—some worse than others. Messing up is the normal part. Getting it right is rare.”

“Yeah, maybe.” But goddammit, I want to get it right.

“Definitely,” she declares, slapping me on the back. “Which is why this baby is going to be okay. You’re going to work things out with Callie and then figure out the rest.”

“Right,” I breathe. “And how exactly am I going to do that?”

Nicky stirs on the monitor again, letting out a piercing wail.

“I guess you’re going to have to talk to her. Be real with each other. Because this—” She holds up the monitor. Nicky is squirming and starting to fuss as he reaches blindly around for his pacifier. “—is hard to do alone.”

As if Callie can sense the shift in my mood from all the way across town, my phone buzzes. Her name lights up my screen.

Summer peeks over my shoulder at it just as Nicky lets out another cry. She holds up the monitor. “I’m going to answer this. You answer that.”

She snags a burp rag from the coffee table and heads down the hall as my phone buzzes again.

I take a deep breath. It could be an apology. Or some explanation for why she lied to me.

Or maybe she’s telling me that she’s clearing out her stuff from the dresser, and she’ll be gone by the time I get back.

When I unlock my phone, the reality is so much worse.

My heart stops as I read her messages.

I don’t even attempt to type anything back. I just press the call button, already grabbing for my keys and heading for the door.

“Where are you?” I growl the second the line connects.

There’s a sniffle that breaks my heart. “In the bathroom at Rendezbrew. The door is locked.”

“Don’t move, Callie. Keep the door locked and don’t fucking move.” I slam Summer’s door shut and take off running down the hall. “I’m coming for you.”

I need help.

He’s here.

The texts are burnt into my brain as I rip down the road. I know the shop she’s talking about, and I ask Alexa to call.

It rings three times through my car speakers before the host picks up. She starts in with her greeting, trying to sell me on their everything bagel bites before I’ve even said a word, but I cut her off.

“I need you to clear the restaurant right now. I can pay.”

“Is this because of all the paparazzi here? The hockey players are making a mess of things. My manager is pissed.”

“Who’s there?”

I know about her ex, but did he bring a friend? Is Callie outnumbered and cornered? My hands are so tight around the steering wheel, it’s a miracle it doesn’t crumple.

“Miles from the Scythes is here with his fiancée, which would be enough, but there’s some other guy. I recognize him from some articles, but I don’t keep up with hockey; I just read the blogs.” There’s a pause. “Wait… are you a reporter? Because I’ll give a quote.”

Everyone is a fucking vulture.

“Clear the place out, and I’ll pay you for the trouble when I get there. The beautiful blonde in the bathroom—leave her alone.”

I hang up and punch the gas. I just need to get to Callie.

I see the amoeba of paparazzi around the front of the restaurant from two blocks down. I weave through the crush of cars and slam my car into the park right outside the main entrance, nearly taking a few of the leeches out as I do. I don’t bother with shades or a hat. They’re going to take pictures, and I don’t give a shit.

As I shove my way through the crowd, people start to recognize me. They grab and shout and try to block my way forward.

Not wise.

I throw elbows like I’m on the ice, blowing through the reporters, catching only the tail end of the questions they don’t stop asking even when my arm is in their esophagus.

“Owen! Who’s the father?” one demands. Everyone lifts their phones towards me to catch the quote I’m never going to give.

Of which baby?

That response would really get the media’s attention. They could be talking about Summer or Callie—maybe even Alisha.

I keep my mouth shut and make my way into the restaurant.

“We did what you asked,” the hostess says from the stand. “There was a guy in the back who didn’t want to leave, but–”

“Where is he now?” I demand.

The only thing even close to how much I want to get to Callie is how much I want to ruin her ex-boyfriend.

“My manager scared him off.”

Damn. So close.

“But the girl in the bathroom is still back there.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Is that… Is that woman Callie?”

This woman really does follow her sports gossip. I ignore the question. “Thank you.”

I make my way to the locked bathroom and knock. “Callie? It’s me.”

I hear her shuffle on the other side of the door. My skin is itching to touch her, to see her and know she’s okay.

“Is he gone?” she asks through the closed door. Her voice is broken and trembling.

That would be a much easier question to answer if I knew who he was. But the hallway is empty, so I make some assumptions.

“I’m alone. Open up, Cal.”

There’s a pause and then, slowly, like she still isn’t sure she’s safe, the bolt unlatches. I push the door open and walk in to find Callie backed against the far wall.

Her arms are wrapped around her chest, and she’s sobbing. There are black tear tracks down her cheeks, and she’s gasping for air in gulps. She’s having a panic attack.

“Callie…”

The sound of my voice sends her eyes snapping to mine. Finally, they focus in on me.

Her expression splits open. The relief in her eyes shifts something fundamental in my chest. For weeks, I’ve wanted to take care of her.

Now, I have to .

She throws herself at me, her arms cinching around my neck like she’s afraid someone is going to drag her away. Her entire body is shaking.

“It’s okay,” I hush her.

“He was here,” she sobs into my neck. “I saw him.”

“He’s gone now.” I rock her in my arms. “Everyone is gone. It’s just you and me.”

“Not him. He’s never gone. He’ll never be gone. He won’t go away.” She breaks down in my arms, and I hold her even tighter.

Whoever he is, he better hope we never cross paths. Because I’ll destroy him. When I’m done, there won’t be anything left.

But right now, what matters is Callie. I have to get her out of here.

I scoop her up in my arms and head for the door. “Just hang onto me. I got you.”

“Where are we going?” she asks as she settles her cheek against my shoulder.

“Home. I’m taking you home.”