Page 93 of A Little Jaded

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Page 93 of A Little Jaded

Apparently, Raine wasn’t kidding. Cedar Springs is a small fucking town. All it took was ten minutes for word to get around I was here.

My muscles tense as the Jeep’s four doors open, revealing four more Grizzlies players before Drake climbs out last. I scan the station. It’s empty. Not a soul around but me and my new buddies. At least Raine isn’t here. That’s gotta count for something. Probably should’ve asked Griff to come with me. Not like I expected an ambush, though I don’t know why I didn’t consider the possibility.

Guess that’s on me.

Fuck.

Molars grinding, I rock back on my heels, checking out how close both cars are parked to me. Yup. I’m pinned in. There’s no way I’ll get out of here. There’s also no way I’ll win this fight. Six against one.

Six. Against. One.

I slide the handle out of my car, hook it back on the pump station, and face Drake. No need to beat around the bush when I know why he’s here. His steps are slow—unhurried—as he strides toward me like the asshole doesn’t have a care in the world.

“What are you doin’ here, Taylor?” he challenges.

Don’t pick a fight, I remind myself. “Just filling up my tank, then I’ll be on my way.”

Drake rounds the passenger side of my car and glances inside. “Came alone, huh?”

“Not my brightest moment,” I mutter.

“Apparently not.” He laughs. “It’s a shame you didn’t bring my girl back.”

My mouth lifts. “She was a little tired, so she decided to stay home.” I push myself away from my car, unable to help myself. I shouldn’t. Fuck me, I know I shouldn’t. But as soon as Drake called Raine his girl, I knew I was done for. “In my bed,” I add. “A good fuck can take a lot out of a girl, you know?”

His amusement falls, and I cock my arm back, preparing to at least get a few good hits in until I’m surrounded. Instead, a reverberating thud hits the back of my head, and my knees hit the ground, the jarring running up my thighs.

Then, the world goes black.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

RAINE

“Shit,” I seethe. “Are you okay?”

Griffin and Reeves carry a semi-conscious Everett through the cabin’s front door and set him on the couch. Reeves had the decency to call me a few minutes ago, warning me they were coming and to not freak out. However, considering the circumstances, it’s a hell of a lot easier said than done.

“Got any ice?” Griffin asks.

I rush toward the freezer and snatch a bag of peas out, handing it to him. Griffin passes it off to Everett, and he presses the frozen ice pack to the back of his head, which is saying something, considering the damage to his face.

“What happened?” I ask.

“You can thank your ex for this,” Everett divulges, confirming my suspicion.

My lips thin as I take in the bloody mess in front of me. This wasn’t a simple sucker punch. He looks like he was hit by a truck. Like he had the absolute shit kicked out of him. What if this ruins his NHL career? What if they did permanent damage, and he’ll never skate again? The thought alonemakes my knees almost give out, and I grasp the edge of the kitchen island to keep from crumbling to the floor. I’d never forgive myself. I still might never forgive myself. Not for this.

Holding his side, Everett lets out a slow breath, his expression pinched, and eases a little more into the cushions as if there’s any possibility of him being able to get comfortable after the hellish ordeal he’s been through.

“Ev didn’t want me to call his parents,” Griffin tells me. “So I made up a bullshit lie about concussions on the ice and asked his dad what to look for.” He stares at his best friend, then adds, “Don’t let him sleep longer than an hour.”

An hour? I look at Everett’s best friends standing in the kitchen and shake my head. “What?”

“Ev went to Cedar Springs to pick some stuff up,” Reeves explains, setting a brown box on the kitchen table. And just like that, the pieces click into place. Everett went to Cedar Springs, and Drake saw him. I knew he’d watch Eternal’s entrance in case I came back, but I had no idea he’d do something like this.

Touching my fingers to my barely parted lips, I whisper, “I’m so sorry. Seriously, I…I don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s fine,” Everett grumbles.




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