Puck Prince (Houston Scythes Hockey #1)

50. Callie

50

CALLIE

“Let’s get out of here.” Spencer throws his arm around me and gives me his perfectly lopsided smile.

The rest of the team is all around us, bumping fists and chests, talking about getting blasted at the pub. But his dark eyes are locked on me.

He never touches me in front of people, and I lean into it, grateful for the scrap of attention.

Except, suddenly, the world around us falls away, and we’re in the closet in my office.

The walls close in on us, and Spencer is shoving me deeper into the closet. His dark eyes are burning now, filled with a rage I don’t understand.

I shove against his chest, but it’s like punching a brick wall. “Spencer, stop. I don’t want this.”

“I didn’t want it like this, either,” he snarls. “But you made it hard, Callie.”

I close my eyes, a scream rising in my throat.

When I open them, I’m alone. Sitting on the bathroom floor of Rendezbrew.

There’s a knock on the door, and my heart crashes against my chest. Owen .

It’s Owen. I know it is. I texted him, and he’s here. He came to save me.

I throw the door open and scream.

Spencer shoves his way into the bathroom and throws me against the wall. My head cracks against the hard tile. Lights burst behind my closed lids.

My body hurts all over. My head, my face, my joints. I’m achy and my mouth tastes like blood.

I can’t move.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t get out.

“Owen.” His name bubbles out of my mouth like I’m underwater. “Owen!”

I wake up screaming. “Get away from me!”

Strong, warm hands band around my arms, restraining me. I struggle uselessly against them, calling for Owen—for anyone—to help.

But I know those hands. And I know that smell. The undeniable, comfortably familiar scent of Owen.

My mind slows, and memories come back to me in flashes.

Owen in the driver’s seat next to me. The crunch of metal. The sight of his bloodied face looking down at me.

“Callie?”

His name coaxes my eyes open. I blink against the bright light, and he’s there again. Owen is looking down at me, but he isn’t bloody or hurt. He isn’t Spencer.

A pitiful sob works out of my chest at the sheer relief of seeing him here.

“Owen?” I try to reach for him, but there’s an IV in my arm.

I try to look down and assess myself, but my brain sloshes around inside my skull like wet sand. My face hurts.

“You’re okay,” he breathes, the two words dripping with his own relief.

“Am I awake?” If I’m not, this is a fine dream. At least Owen is here.

He nods. “Yes.”

“How do you know?”

I expect him to pinch me or something. Instead, he takes my hand and kisses it. His lips are warm. As I watch, I see the split in his bottom lip. The bruise forming on his chin.

The crash was real. We were in an accident.

Owen looks so sad. Shattered. I’ve never seen him like this before.

“Are you—” I reach for his face again, but the IV stops me. My hand falls to my stomach, and reality crashes down over my head. “The baby,” I choke out. “Is my baby okay?”

“The baby is okay.” He gives me a tight smile. “The baby is fine.”

“You’ve got a little fighter in there.” I turn to see a nurse looking over my vitals. “You all were very lucky.”

I breathe out a heavy sigh of relief and collapse back into the bed. The baby is okay. Spencer isn’t here .

Everything is fine.

But then I look at Owen again and anxiety slithers under my skin. He looks terrible. It’s not just his swollen lip or his bruises; his eyes are downcast and his jaw is tight.

He looks like hell inside and out.

“Owen, I’m so sorry. I?—”

“No.” He grounds the word out between his teeth. “Stop, Callie. I’m sorry. This is my fault. All of it.”

I shake my head. “It isn’t. I lied to you.”

“And I lied to you,” he cuts me off. “I told you I’d keep you safe, and I didn’t.”

I gape at him, unsure how to even respond. The only solid ground I’ve had in weeks is this man. “What are you talking about? You rescued me.”

The nurse quietly exits the room to give us privacy.

“I shouldn’t have had to save you. You never should’ve been put in this position. You came to the Scythes looking to start over, and I put you right back in danger.” He shoves a hand through his hair, and I see that his other arm is in a sling. All I want to do is hold him, but he won’t even look at me. “I should’ve found another way to protect Summer. I was selfish with you. It was wrong.”

“Owen. You haven’t put me in danger.” I sit up straight, wincing as I do. I don’t think anything is broken, but my entire body feels like I was hit by a fucking bus. For all I know, I was. “I lied. I kept things from you. It’s not all on you.”

I want to move past this. I want to forget it all. None of it matters right now. The fact that I’m alive, the baby is alive, and we’re going to be okay is all I care about.

But Owen’s eyes are still dark. His mouth is still turned down. He’s a mess.

I try another angle. Another way to make him see that we’re together right now, beating the odds despite the circumstances and it’s going to be okay.

“My life was a mess before you came into it. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have and didn’t know how to get out of it until it was too late. I got hurt and messed up my career. None of that had anything to do with you.”

“But it does Callie!” Owen cuts me off, his words sharp and twisted with anger. “Because it always comes back to me. All the pain, all the hurt people I care about are dealing with, it’s a cycle. And the cycle comes back to me.”

“I don’t understand,” I say, tears brimming in my eyes.

“When my mom was getting abused by every guy that walked into our home, all I wanted was to be big enough and strong enough to help her. By the time I was, it was too late. I thought I could shield Summer, but it’s not enough. Just being close to me puts her in danger. Now, the same thing is happening to you. But it’s not just you anymore; it’s our child, too. All I ever wanted was to protect the people I love, but I’m actually the reason you all need protecting. And it has to stop.”

“Owen,” I reach for his hand but he snatches it away, pacing the room. “Owen, you have to stop. Please. None of this is your fault. None of it is because of you.”

“Yes it is, Callie. And it’s over.”

My heart drops through a trapdoor in my chest. “What’s over?”

“This mess. The cycle.” He throws his good arm in the air, encompassing me and the whole hospital room in one fell swoop. “Summer and Nicky don’t need me to save them; they need out of Houston completely. Away from the media. Away from her ex. Away from me. And the same goes for you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.” I’m starting to get mad. This has all exploded in a way that doesn’t even make sense. I get that he’s upset about the accident, but he’s spiraling out of control right now. “You need sleep. Have you slept? You need?—”

“You’re not listening to me! I need to get Summer and Nicky out of Houston. And I need you and the baby to be safe, too.”

“Owen…”

“I am going to make sure you have everything you need. Money. A house. Security?—”

I shake my head, reaching for him again. This time I catch his hand and hang on. Then I ask the question I don’t want to ask, but I know I have to. “Do you not want this baby? Is that what this is about?”

Owen stops. “What I want is for the baby to be safe. Healthy and happy. I want to break the cycle.”

“Then why are you making it sound like you’re walking away?” I’m crying now. “I know this relationship isn’t real, okay? But even if the label wasn’t real, can you honestly say you believe none of it was? Because some of this… some of this has been very real to me.”

Owen swallows hard. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. It doesn’t matter what I want. What matters is that you and the baby are safe.”

“Owen—” His name is a broken plea. It’s the only thing I can get out.

He pulls his hand out of mine and reaches in his pocket. Then he pulls out a set of keys. “These are for the apartment. Your apartment. I’ll hire security. We can put in cameras. No one will come within a hundred feet of the place without me and the police knowing.”

“We can do that at your apartment,” I sob. “ Our apartment. I don’t need my own?—”

“You’ll be safer without me, Callie. All I want is for you to be safe.”

He folds the keys into my unwilling hand and leaves.

And he takes my heart with him.