If You Dare: A Hockey Bully Romance

Violet

I didn’t think I could scream anymore, my throat ragged and raw, but I scream for him.

I scream for Wes as his knees hit the concrete and blood pours from his neck.

Too fast.

Too fucking fast.

The agony is tearing me apart at the seams. Every inch of my body has been ripped through by a tornado. With every kick they landed to my stomach, back, legs, arms, head, all I’ve been able to think about is the pain. Unending. Unyielding.

But none of it holds a candle to watching the man I love try to staunch the flow of blood from his own throat.

If Trey managed to cut his windpipe, Wes won’t be able to breathe. If he sliced through a major artery, Wes has only minutes before he succumbs to the blood loss.

Maybe seconds.

Seconds left to tell him everything I need to. To tell him how much I love him. How much I ache for him when he’s not around. How being with him helps me remember my best friend and grieve her. How his laugh makes me smile even when I’ve forgotten how. How getting wrapped in his arms makes me feel like I’m home.

I came here to save Aneesa. But I’ve only endangered Wes.

“Wes!”

But it’s not my voice calling out to him.

Still, he doesn’t glance their way. “Violet,” he breathes.

Tears well. He can still talk. He can still breathe.

With a bloody hand, he reaches for me, grasping mine like I’m his lifeline, the only thing tethering him to this world.

Footsteps charge into the warehouse, echoing around us.

Nineteen hockey players stampede across the concrete with sticks in hand, and somehow, miraculously, Wes manages a tiny smile. “I called for backup.”

Luke is at the helm, and once he spots me and Wes covered in blood, he sets his sights on Trey, still clutching the knife. “Fucking drop it, dude!”

Shouts before a meaty slap against the concrete wall. Behind Wes, the rest of the team has Trey pinned and disarmed.

Relief manages to rush through me, even as every inch of me remains motionless in agony.

“You three, help me get these two to the hospital,” Luke instructs. The first time I’ve ever seen him like this—giving orders, taking charge. I’m reminded again of why Chloe liked him so much. “The rest of you, get those assholes back to Coach. Let him figure out what to do with them.”

Wes

All the nurses and doctors in this fucking hospital are incompetent. The cut across my throat is a superficial one. Didn’t slash my windpipe or hit any major arteries. For someone who loves cutting people with knives so much, Trey sure is shit at it. A few stitches to the neck and I’m practically good as new, yet they keep fucking worrying about me when they should be worrying about her.

“Why the fuck is no one in here with her?” I roar out her open door. “My girl just got fucking assaulted! This is your last warning. If someone doesn’t get their ass in this room and take care of her now, I’m dragging you all down to hell with me!”

A pissy nurse and a dead-eyed doctor hustle into the room. I don’t really give a fuck what kind of attitude they want to give me as long as they do their fucking jobs and take care of her.

Despite the pain she’s in, she manages to smile every time I bark an order.

Her mom arrives about an hour after I made the call, and I’m about to step out of the room to give them some privacy when she grabs my arm. “Thank you for protecting my daughter, Wes.” Her eyes are shiny. “And for forgiving her.”

I just hope she’s forgiven me too. For not believing her. For letting that scumbag Trey get anywhere fucking near her.

As soon as she can speak, she tells me what Trey confessed to her while he and the rest of those scumbags were beating the shit out of her: He drugged Chloe’s drink the night she died. He drugged Violet’s too, but she never drank any of it.

Who knows. Maybe I could’ve lost them both that night.

Apparently, a routine toxicology report doesn’t detect GHB, so the report only showed alcohol in Chloe’s system during her autopsy. Maybe if we’d known to look for it, the medical examiner would’ve been able to determine whether she would’ve survived the push into the pool if she hadn’t been drugged.

Even if Violet hadn’t pushed her, maybe Chloe still would’ve jumped. Maybe I still wouldn’t have been able to save her.

Trey will never be held responsible for what he did to my sister. Even if we could somehow prove that the GHB is what ultimately led to Chloe’s death, we can’t prove he was the one who put it in her drink.

But we can hold him responsible for what he did to Violet.

I take her hand and kneel at her bedside. Her head tilts, puzzled. “I’m so fucking sorry, Violet. I put all the blame on you. I put you through hell and back to pay for a crime that wasn’t even yours.”

“I pushed her,” Violet whispers, voice hoarse and eyes shiny.

I blink back my own tears, shaking my head. “Yeah, and look how many other people push their friends into pools. They’re not criminals, and neither are you. You and I both know Chloe wouldn’t have died if Trey hadn’t spiked her drink.”

She swipes at her tears and sniffles, squeezing my hand tighter. “I know that’s supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn’t.”

I swallow, breath shuddering. “That night, I was watching you and Chloe from the patio. I saw the whole thing. I watched her hit the water, but I didn’t run over until I heard you screaming. If I’d gotten there sooner—”

“No.” Her voice is hard, adamant. “Nothing that happened that night is your fault. None of it, Wes.”

Her words make my bottom lip wobble until I bite down on it. “Then I want you to listen to me, Violet. I don’t want you to go another day feeling guilty either. It wasn’t your fault.” I stand when she buries her face in her hands and starts to cry. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into me. “None of it.”

She’s able to leave the hospital after a few days, and I take her right back to my apartment. The only time I leave her side is to meet with Dean Forrester in his office to tell him everything that happened. He’s already got the gist of it from the police, but he wants my perspective so he can make his determination about the punishment my five teammates deserve.

I point at my neck before showing him a picture of Violet, bruised and battered in her hospital bed. “Whatever punishment you think this deserves.”

The news comes in an email from Coach first.

Five of our players have been suspended from campus. All of them are facing criminal charges.

Finally some fucking justice.

After a couple weeks, Violet’s weaned off the painkillers and her bruises have nearly faded. The doctor said she’s lucky she only sustained bruised ribs and no concussion.

I say Trey’s lucky to be standing. All five of those guys are fucking lucky to be alive.

Aneesa’s been visiting Violet almost daily, bringing her meals and snacks. Like I don’t know how to feed my fucking girlfriend.

I snap at her whenever she knocks and wakes Violet up or overstays her welcome. She snaps right back. I can’t help but respect her for it, and Violet seems to find our bickering amusing.

Aneesa might never forgive me for how I treated Violet. But I’m glad. That means my girl has a good friend looking out for her.

Without Chloe, she needs a friend.

I know it would make my sister happy.