The Christmas You Crash (Going Rogue #2)

Chapter 52

fifty-two

RYDER

I’m going to kill him. I’m going to garrote him. After I break his nose.

That sonofabitch just called his own daughter a vile slur before telling the whole world, and his little girl, that she was a mistake. A. Mistake.

Fuck him. Fuck him and fuck the rest of this game. I don’t care if I get suspended or fired or traded to Alaska. Hell, they don’t even have an NHL team in Alaska. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. All that matters right now is that I get to my girl.

I swear the whole arena is silent as I hop over the boards and fly across the ice. Gameplay has stopped, and there are refs surrounding the Rogues’ bench as Coach continues to shout and rant and make threats. For a split second, I think one of them will stop me from getting to Lexi, but he just pats me on the shoulder and tells me to go get her.

She’s just approaching the tunnel as I stumble off the ice. Tears stream down her beautiful face and sobs rack her body. I’ve never seen her so broken. Her dad has hurt Lexi several times since I’ve known her, but there was always this underlying spark of hope in her eyes. Hope that things would get better. That, someday, Arthur Cross would wake up and realize what a mammoth ass he’s been.

That hope is gone. Snuffed out so thoroughly that even Lexi’s natural light has dimmed.

I hate it.

“Baby.” I drop my gloves and reach for her as she lurches toward the tunnel. At the sound of my voice, she looks up, and my chest constricts. Lexi looks at me like I’m her salvation. The only safe place she has left. And I will not let her down. Pulling her into my arms, I shield her from the gawking fans and the flashing cameras. I’ll shield her from the whole fucking world if I have to. Her body convulses with sobs against my chest and her knees wobble.

“I’ve got you,” I murmur as I sweep her into my arms bridal style. She presses her face into my sweaty neck, trusting me to get her out of there. Trusting me to take care of her. “I’ve got you, baby. Everything is going to be okay.”

The dull roar of the arena fades as I carry my devastated girlfriend down the tunnel toward the locker room. Her soft cries and the relentless pounding of my heart are the only sounds.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Lexi. Your dad is a fucking asshole. And he’s the one missing out, not you.”

I know that’s not really true. Losing a father is something I’m intimately familiar with. And while my loss may differ from Lexi’s in its circumstance, it doesn’t change the fact that, as of today, both of us are fatherless. Because there’s no coming back from this for Arthur Cross. Not even if he wanted to.

So, yeah, I firmly believe that Coach is the one missing out, but Lexi is the one mourning.

The locker room is empty when I carry her in. Heading over to my locker, I sit down on the bench and cradle my crying girlfriend against my chest. My hands smooth up and down her back, my fingers ghosting over my last name embroidered there.

Mine. Alexis Cross is mine. Someday soon, I’m going to marry this incredible woman. And if she wants to ditch the last name that has brought her nothing but pain, she can have mine instead.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out. “I’m so sorry, Ryder.”

Gently gripping the hair at the base of her skull, I give it a light tug, silently asking her to look at me. “What the hell are you sorry about, Alexis? What could you possibly have to apologize for?”

“I ruined your career,” she cries, new sobs racking her body. “I never wanted you to have to choose between me and hockey, but it happened, anyway. I’m so sorry.”

“Oscar.” The word rumbles out of my chest like an earthquake. One capable of toppling all these feelings of unworthiness Lexi has been battling since she was a little girl. “I swear to god, if you apologize for something that is not your fault one more time, I’m going to lose my cool and go take a hockey stick to your dad’s car.”

Lexi’s eyes widen, but a watery giggle slips from between her lips. The moment is short-lived, though. Her face quickly crumples again. “You heard my dad. He’s going to ruin your career now. That’s my fault.”

“No, OTG. It’s not. It’s Coach’s fault. It’s his fault he’s a raging misogynist. It’s his fault he’s so fucking selfish that he couldn’t see how lucky he was to have your mom as a wife and you as a daughter. He did this, not you. And my career isn’t ruined yet. I’m not giving up without a fight.”

The sound of voices and the thump of skates heading toward the locker room begin to filter over to us. Lexi tenses in my lap. I hold her tighter.

“I’ve got you,” I tell her again.

Her quiet reply almost undoes me. “I know.”

I brace myself for Coach’s arrival, but it’s our team captain who strides through the locker room doors, looking downright murderous. Maddox’s expression softens when he sees Lexi cowering in my arms.

“Coach got kicked out of the game. Don’t worry, we won’t let him in the locker room.”

The guys cluster around Lexi and me, all of them looking concerned.

“Are you okay, Lexi?” Sebastian asks, crouching down, so he’s at eye level with her.

She sniffles. “Not really. But I will be.”

Our assistant coach, Mike Fry, strides into the locker room, and everyone tenses. His warm brown eyes scan the room before landing on Lexi in my arms. His full lips turn down in a frown, and he runs a hand over his close-cropped black hair.

“All right, team. I know tonight was a shit show, and there are a lot of questions about what happened and how this will affect the rest of our season. I don’t have any answers for you yet.” Fry sighs. “Unfortunately, everything he said was caught on camera. And it’s already on the way to going viral.” That has him grimacing as he meets Lexi’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Lexi. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now.”

My arms tighten around my girl. She simply offers a half-hearted shrug.

“Unfortunately, that means the press room is packed to the gills. They’re going to expect to hear from the first line.” Fry looks at me. “And Ryder. Think you guys can handle this without throwing more fuel on the fire?”

“Of course,” Maddox says, answering for all of us. “But no one is answering questions about Lexi. This is her fucking personal life being blasted all over right now. Are we agreed?” He looks around the locker room. Every single player nods.

They’ll have our backs.

“Is there anything you want me to say, baby?” I ask Lexi.

Her big, green eyes gaze up at me with the utmost faith. “I trust you. Say whatever you feel you need to.”

Kissing her nose, I nod. “You got it.”

“Good.” Coach Fry claps his hands. “Everyone, go get showered and dressed. It’s going to be a long night of answering questions.”

As our assistant coach heads out of the locker room, and as guys begin tugging off their jerseys, Griffin kneels in front of Lexi, the same way Sebastian did. Meeting her gaze, his voice is soft and comforting. It’s a different side of Griffin, and I can see the man he often hides behind his goofy facade.

“The girls are in the family room. How about we form a wall and take you there? We’ll make sure no one sees you or bothers you. You ladies can hang out and have a drink while we talk to the press, then we’ll come and get you and head to Madds and Isla’s place, like we’d planned. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good,” Lexi says. She attempts a smile, but it doesn’t even come close to reaching her emerald eyes. She shifts like she’s about to get to her feet, but I hold on tighter and pick her up bridal style again.

“Not ready to let you go just yet,” I tell her.

She sighs and sags against me.

The guys form a wall in front of us, and a few of our other teammates cover our backs. Lexi buries her face in my neck again, and we make our way out of the locker room and toward the family room, where wives, girlfriends, and other family members can wait for their loved ones as they get showered and speak with the press.

A few people call out Lexi’s name and mine, but they’re quickly told to move aside by a wall of sweaty muscle. We make it into the family room without anyone really bothering us.

As soon as the door is closed and I set Lexi down, Isla and Mira are there. They wrap her up in a hug and check in with her. She looks back at me every few seconds, but it’s clear she feels safe and comfortable with them, which loosens some of the tightness in my chest.

“You good, love?”

“Yeah,” Lexi says, closing the space between us and pulling my head down for a kiss. “I’m okay. Hurry up and shower so you can talk to the vultures, then we can get out of here. I need an entire bottle of wine after tonight.”

“We can definitely provide that,” Isla says. “And food. Oh, and ice cream. I have plenty of ice cream. Mira and I will help you drown your sorrows in rocky road. Or cookie dough. Or mint chocolate chip.”

A watery laugh bubbles out of Lexi. “That sounds perfect.”

“Go on,” Mira says to me, making a little shooing motion with her hands. “We’ll take care of Lexi.”

I trust that they will, but I’m finding it difficult to walk away. It feels wrong to leave her side after everything that happened tonight. “You sure you’re okay?” I ask her again.

The smile she offers me is real. A little sad, but genuine. “I’m sure. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“We love you both,” Griffin says. “Now, let’s go get showered and get this circus over with.”

“Ryder, can you tell us how long you’ve been dating Coach Cross’s daughter?”

It’s the third time one of these reporters has asked this question, and I’m getting irritated. I don’t want to share the details of my relationship with them. What makes these people think they’re entitled to personal information like this?

Pasting a smile on my face, I give her the same answer I gave the last two. “I’m not going to divulge information about my relationship, except to say that Alexis doesn’t deserve to be dragged through the mess her father created. Please respect her privacy, and ours. We’re real people in a real relationship. This isn’t some publicity stunt or a Hollywood movie plot. This is our life.”

That same reporter smiles. “So, you love her, then?”

That I will answer. I return the reporter’s smile. “I sure as hell do.”

People shout over one another, trying to be heard, jockeying for the right to ask the next question. So many cameras flash, I’m getting a headache.

“Do you have any comment on Cross’s threat to trade you?” a new reporter asks.

“Listen, that threat was made in the heat of the moment, but I will say this. I don’t want to play for anyone else. Minnesota is my home. I’ve cheered for the Rogues since I was a boy. My dad and I used to dream about me playing here before he died. This is my community, and these guys are my family.” I motion to my teammates. “I won’t be going anywhere, as long as I have any say in the matter.”

I’m aware I may not have a say in this. It’s one of the major pitfalls of playing professional sports. You don’t always get to choose where you live and play. It’s why I haven’t bothered buying a house, and why I won’t, unless I get a nice long contract extension and hopefully a pay hike. I can’t deny I’ve been thinking about a house a lot more since things with Lexi became serious.

I want to put down roots with her.

“Ryder, what do you have to say to Coach Cross regarding today’s altercation?”

I look the reporter dead in the eyes. This one, I have no problem answering. “I’d like to tell him I feel sorry for him. Hockey is the best sport, we all know that.” Everyone chuckles. “But like every sport, it can be a fickle lover. We get injured or that perfect lineup doesn’t gel the way we’d hoped. When everything’s great, sure, hockey may keep you warm at night. But hockey won’t hold you when you cry or sit with you in the quiet moments. It can’t reassure you that everything’s going to be okay or tell you to stop being an idiot when you mess up. It can’t grow old with you. It won’t look up at you like you’ve hung the moon.”

The room is silent.

“I’ve found the person who does all of those things for me, and I never want to let her go. And it’s crazy to me he’d dismiss and hurt that same person I feel lucky just to know . And being loved by that person? Well, to be honest, no game—even hockey—could ever come close. I’m sorry he never had the sense to realize that.”

There’s a single beat of profound silence, and then the cameras are flashing again and reporters are shouting.

I’m tired. All I want is to get back to Lexi and wrap her in my arms. I’m never letting her go.

Coach Fry holds up his hands and says, “That’s enough questions about Ryder and his love life. Now, do any of you have anything to ask about the spectacular game these guys played tonight? If not, I know we’re all tired and want to get home to our families.”

For once, the mention of going home to our families doesn’t cut. Because my family is waiting for me.

She makes all of this worth it.