Pucking Road Trip (Bay Rebels #3)

Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

SAP Center, San Jose

R obyn

“Shoot, shoot, shoot,” I chant under my breath.

D’Angelo shoots…and misses.

I groan.

He’s seriously off his game.

It’s Tuesday evening and the first game of the California road trip between the Bay Rebels and the San Jose Sharks.

I’m standing behind the glass in front of a cold metal bench in case I need to rest.

Noah perches on the bench, running his hand anxiously through his curls. He’s dressed in the medical staff nurse uniform with Bay Rebels logo.

Dad only cleared me to attend tonight, if Noah kept an eye on me. Of course, Eden is looking after me as well, standing close at my shoulder.

Eden looks gorgeous in a gray suit with light silver waistcoat. D’Angelo gifted him with a number of game night suits. The long woolen coat that Eden is wearing over it, exactly matches his eyes.

The suits make Eden look both dominant and more comfortable.

He appears to deal better with being around so many people, when he’s dressed in them.

I’m bundled up more than normal in jeans, an emerald sweater, and thick, floor-length coat. Eden wound one of his gray scarves around my neck and pulled his fluffy gloves onto my hands.

The gloves are too large. But I love how it felt, when Eden put them on me.

I also love how looked after I feel to be wearing them.

I squint through the bright lights, which make my head throb.

I can’t smell anything because of my stuffy nose.

The atmosphere in the arena, however, is electric. The crowds are noisy with joy.

Unfortunately, the excitement is one-sided from the fans for the home team.

This is a nightmare start for the Bay Rebels .

My heart is beating too fast. I feel lightheaded.

I shouldn’t be out of bed yet. Michael made his views on that very clear in his best stern voice, when I insisted that I wasn’t missing this game.

My guys need my support.

Eden should be here, and I know that if I stayed away, then he would as well in order to be with me.

Except, now I wish that I was back in the hotel room.

Then I could hide from Dad.

My gaze darts to Dad, who is standing further along from me in a huddle with the other staff and coaches, watching the game like a glowering hawk. Both Colton and him appear ready to swoop onto the ice and tear their team apart with their talons.

The Bay Rebels are already being slaughtered by the rival team.

On the other hand, how would Dad feel if he knew the reason behind why D’Angelo is putting on the worst performance of his life?

If he knew that it was because D’Angelo is trying to save Dad’s reputation?

But by doing so, he’s destroyed himself.

Yesterday afternoon, D’Angelo stumbled back to the hotel room like he’d seen a ghost.

He didn’t tell us anything.

Instead, he started to tidy.

And clean.

Fold everything in each of our suitcases.

Then refold.

Then tidy some more.

He was caught in the grasp of his OCD, worse than I’ve seen it.

It was evening, before D’Angelo was able to tell us simply that he’d seen his parents.

It broke my heart.

I wanted to call Dad and break Gibbs’ secret hold over us.

Gibbs set up the man who I love to face his worse fear, and I wanted to call a stop to this.

Yet D’Angelo insisted, “Just two more dares, cara mia. Seeing…those people…today made me realize that I know what it feels like for your life to implode. To lose your family. I’d do anything to stop that happening to you. Anything .”

Except, D’Angelo is falling apart tonight with the whole world watching.

Helplessly, I clench my hands.

I wish that I could help him.

I don’t look away from the rink for a moment.

Shay appears to feel the same as me, attempting to skate closer to D’Angelo.

The Sharks are an outstanding team, however, and scenting blood, they’ve been working on separating the flow between the two players.

They’ve been blocking Shay, stopping him from creating chances.

Shay should be scoring more than this.

A hulking winger closes in on Shay. He’s a head taller and twice as wide as Shay.

Eden’s piercing gaze is focused on the ice.

“Concentrate,” Eden mutters.

Shay, however, isn’t looking at the winger. He’s hyper focused on D’Angelo, as concerned about him as I am.

Normally, Shay and D’Angelo’s close connection is a strength. But now, it’s a serious weakness.

Shay is skating into position to score, only D’Angelo is too distracted to notice.

This is a disaster.

Suddenly, from the side, the winger crashes into Shay, slamming him into the boards.

Shay hits his hip and shoulder hard.

I wince.

Then he’s slapped down to the ice.

Is he going to fight?

I hold my breath.

I’m proud, however, when Shay struggles to his feet, blanking the winger.

Next to me, Eden stiffens.

Throughout the game, I’ve been intensely aware of Eden standing so close that our shoulders touch. Also, the way that he grabs my elbow to steady me, whenever I feel dizzy.

I wish that I could hold his hand.

The way that I notice his fingers twitching, I think that he’s resisting the urge the same as I am.

I drag my handkerchief out of my pocket, which I borrowed (stole) from D’Angelo. I only have paper tissue ones, but D’Angelo has an impressive collection of fancy silk handkerchiefs to match his suits.

He now has one less.

I blow my nose noisily into it, giving a weak cough.

Yeah, D’Angelo won’t want this one back.

I stuff the handkerchief back into my coat pocket.

“Would you like some water?” Noah stands and holds out an opened water bottle to me.

I wrest my attention away from the ice.

“Thanks.” I take the bottle from Noah and take a deep swig. “Sorry you have to act as my nurse tonight.”

“Literally my job.” Noah pushes his wild hair out of his eyes. “Your dad made it clear that I’m your on call medical staff member from now on. He told me that I’d better make sure that you don’t faint or anything in front of the cameras.” Then he drops his voice to a whisper. “And he scares me.”

Eden’s lips twitch. “I’ll protect you.”

“My hero.” Noah smiles, shyly. “Actually, Jude text me. He asked me to look after you as well, as a favor. I care a lot more about not disappointing him, than I do about getting my butt kicked by coach.”

I know the feeling.

D’Angelo has the ability to inspire that type of loyalty.

Even now, when he’s struggling so much, the entire team is attempting to rally around him.

It should be a frozen bloodbath, but the score is still 4 — 1 to the Sharks.

The Bay Rebels could come back from a three-goal deficit.

Maybe.

If Shay wasn’t being targeted as a tactic by the Sharks, then he’d have scored at least one more goal already.

Grayson is taking up the slack on the left wing and trying to cover for D’Angelo.

Atlas and Lucas have been blocking and making smart decisions. Their defense has been fucking dogged.

Plus, D’Angelo owes Zach, our goalie, a beer for the number of practically unhinged dives he’s done to save shots on goal.

The score should be closer to 9 — 1.

Noah isn’t the only one who’s loyal to the captain. D’Angelo’s team are proving it with their sweat and bruises on the ice now.

Except, it’s not enough.

They need their captain as well, only D’Angelo looks to be in a daze.

He’s not present right now.

I hate that I have a good idea where he’s trapped, and it’s the moment that his asshole brother came home and found him kissing his friend.

Or possibly, the moment that he saw his parents out of the blue for the first time in ten years.

Only for them to reject him all over again.

When Colton sharply gestures at Noah like he’s a servant who can be summoned, Noah sighs.

“And there’s someone who scares me even more. I’d better see what Stick No Carrot wants.” Unexpectedly, Noah becomes briskly professional. “Keep drinking. There are bananas, oranges, and yogurts for you in my bag under the bench, which will all be good for you, if you’re hungry. If you feel faint, like your temperature is rising, or just feel worse in any way, come get me at once. You’re my number one priority tonight, no matter what Mr. Colton thinks.”

“I’ll watch her,” Eden promises. “I won’t let anything happen to Robyn.”

“I believe you.” Noah’s shoulders hunch, as he turns away and trudges toward Colton.

When I glance up at Eden, his stormy gray eyes are sweeping over my face.

He brushes his knuckles over my forehead, checking my temperature.

I think that he’s using it as an excuse to touch me.

He needs it.

But then, so do I.

“They’re going to lose.” Eden’s gaze darts back to the rink.

What can I say?

“It looks like it.” I frown. “Statistically, no one wins all three of these road games. Neither the board nor the press will expect it. But we must win at least one of them. The problem is that this first game is meant to be the easiest to win because our team is at its freshest. The games will only get harder from here on out. If we lose this one, then each game will become more and more difficult to win.”

My throat is sore simply from talking.

I cough, taking another drink. Then I place the water bottle down on the bench.

With trepidation, I look back at the rink.

My heart speeds up, as D’Angelo loses focus yet again.

His emotions are going wild.

The real competition is always inside yourself.

Right now, D’Angelo is losing.

I think that he’s winning, however, for even putting on his skates, after the mindfuck Gibbs has put him through.

D’Angelo makes another unforced error, losing the puck to the rival center.

Dad reddens, yelling at him.

“I’m going to burn Gibbs alive,” Eden says with a calm certainty.

It’s eerily like he means it.

“How about you don’t discuss your murder plans in public and in front of the cameras, Dexter?” I swing Eden by his good arm to face me.

Eden’s brow furrows in confusion. “He hurt Jude. He made his worst fear come true.”

My chest feels tight. And this time, it’s not because of the virus.

“I know,” I murmur. “It was fucking cruel. Why would Gibbs go to the trouble of organizing for Jude’s parents to be in the same place? If he merely wanted us to lose these games, he could have done anything. But he’s psychologically torturing D’Angelo. Why does he want to…?”

“This is personal.” Eden’s expression is grim. “It’s Gibbs’ revenge, but I’m not convinced that we know what it’s for.”

Surprised, I tilt my head. “You think that it’s about more than that one incident on the ice.”

“I want to know what the chirps were from Gibbs that made coach attack him in the first place.”

Hell, that’s a good point.

“They were about Mom.” I lick my dry lips. “I remember Dad telling me that.”

Eden looks thoughtful. “If somebody talked shit about you on the ice, Shay would punch them.”

But Dad didn’t merely punch Gibbs.

“Still, how did he know about all that stuff? The kiss? D’Angelo’s parents?” I shove my gloved hands into my pockets.

“Could we be under surveillance again?”

I shake my head. “Security are hot on that now after last time. Dad vets them closely. It’s unlikely.”

“How would he know our private…?”

“A Trojan horse.” I gasp.

Why didn’t I think of it earlier?

Shit, it’s the staple of shady journalists everywhere; part of their dark arts .

“Did we accept a gift from an enemy?” Eden asks.

“In a way.” My eyes flash with anger. “It means that we’ve been infected with a different type of virus to the one that’s making my voice hoarse. It’s a Trojan horse virus. Certain jerk journalists use them to break into celebrities’ computers. All you need to do is click onto a link, then it gives them access to everything on your email, phone, fucking everything . Except, we all know not to click on links, so…”

Eden adjusts the scarf at my neck, but I know that it’s an excuse to get closer to me.

“Robyn, I’m sorry.” He looks stricken.

“Why?” I ask.

Fuck, I know that look.

He clicked on a link.

“I don’t understand emojis,” Eden bursts out in a mix of guilt and frustration. “I got this weird email from Shay, when I was busy on D’Angelo’s computer for work. It was this long string of emojis, ending with a wink face, then: look at this! But the link underneath didn’t lead to anything. I thought my brother had just messed it up. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Hey, you’re not.” I force him to meet my gaze. “We’re going to sort this.”

“Jude will hate me.” Eden’s voice is low like he’s struggling to force out the words. “He won’t want to be my friend anymore. It’s my fault that he had to see his parents again. It would kill me, if I saw my biological ones. I did that.”

“You didn’t,” I reply, willing him to believe me. “This is Gibbs’ fault and no one else’s.”

“I let him down as his PA.” Eden’s expression is stoic, as if he’s bracing himself for punishment. “He should fire me.”

“He isn’t going to fire you for clicking on one link. These assholes are good at what they do — tricking people. Gibbs must have hired them. And when are you going to realize that D’Angelo is more than your friend? He’s your family now.”

Eden’s shoulders relax but he still looks tense.

Finally, he nods.

I’m not sure that he fully understands what I said.

Perhaps, he wants to but is still struggling to accept it deep within his soul.

“Plus, it’s good that we at least know what’s happened,” I continue, hoping to make him feel better. But then, dread makes my guts roil. “Except, if it’s the type of virus I think it is, then it will have given Gibbs access to every email and computer in D’Angelo’s friends list, as well as every phone, including Shay’s and mine. And any therapy notes sent out to them .”

Horror stricken, Eden and I stare at each other.

Behind us, the Shark fans roar, as their team score again.

My knees buckle. I sit down heavily on the bench.

The Bay Rebels have lost to the San Jose Sharks.

D’Angelo has lost.

And we’ve lost this first game to Gibbs.