The Enforcer: Lakeside University Hockey #1

Those phone calls. The issue with his credit card. Nash’s caginess about his family—and mine. It all makes sense now that I know the truth.

While I had some suspicions about his home life, never in a million years would I have guessed it was so bad. It crushes me to know it’s something he felt he had to hide. There are so many things I want to ask, but I don’t want to bombard him with questions.

Nash is quiet as we weave through the mobbed corridors and out into the parking lot after the game. It’s swarming with people, so I’m not worried about being seen leaving together. Without a word, he opens the passenger side door for me, taking my keys and walking around to the driver’s side. He starts the ignition and rests his forearm along the door, looking out the window. In his side profile, his jaw is rigid, the cords in his neck strained.

I don’t know what to say, so I wait until he’s ready to talk.

He runs a hand along his jaw, turning back to face me. “Vi, I know you’re probably horrified by the shit show you just witnessed, but that’s basically just an average Friday in the Richards family. It’s not the first time he’s said those things to me, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” A rueful smile plays on his lips. “It’s the first time I’ve told him to go fuck himself, though.”

Queasiness brews in the pit of my stomach. That’s how he was raised. His entire childhood. Growing up without his mother, and having to handle all of that abuse on top of it? It’s gutting.

“You don’t deserve to be treated that way, Nash. And I’m sorry if I made it worse with what I said. I didn’t mean to intrude. Hearing him talk to you that way just made me so upset.”

“You were trying to stand up for me, Vi, and that means a lot.” A line forms between his brows. “But I’m sorry for the way he spoke to you. That was completely uncalled for.”

When I glance down, I realize that he’s shaking, and I take his hand in mine. Even in the parking lot, no one is going to get close enough to see that. I probably can’t risk hugging him, though, which I hate. He looks like he needs it.

“His behavior isn’t your fault.” I hate that he’s apologizing for that vile man, especially when he’s done so much worse to Nash.

“He’s my dad.”

My eyes brim with tears and I bite the inside of my cheek, willing them away. This is why he never told me. He felt ashamed. He’s been mistreated for God knows how long by a monster of a father, and he’s spent all this time trying to hide it. Carrying the burden alone, hiding someone else’s secret.

“You can’t control him,” I say. “You’re not responsible for what he does, either.”

Nash opens his mouth and closes it, wagging his head like he’s having a silent argument with himself. “I should have told you.” His throat bobs. “I just—I wanted to protect you. I thought if I held on a little longer, he’d be out of my life forever and I could keep you from ever having to meet him.”

A sob bubbles up in my chest. Knowing that he thought he was protecting me makes it hurt that much more.

“I wish you’d told me, but I understand why you didn’t.”

“I realize it seems fucked up.” His free hand grips the leather steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “It’s not straightforward. Due to the demands of hockey and school, I’ve never been able to work consistently, which means I have no personal credit history. I couldn’t get private loans, and Doug earns too much money for me to qualify for student aid or government loans.”

He exhales, and his shoulders sag as he stares ahead blankly. “So, I made a deal with the Devil. I told myself I’d get through the four years. That it wouldn’t be as bad once I was no longer living under his roof. That I could take his help temporarily so I could be free of him forever later. You know, short-term pain, long-term gain. But it got worse and worse as college went on, until he was breathing down my neck so much this year that I couldn’t even blink without him knowing it.”

My stomach twists. “That sounds awful.” It must have added an insurmountable amount of stress to what is already a highly stressful hockey career.

“It is what it is.” His brow lowers, still looking straight out the window. “I’ll have to figure out something else. I don’t want another dime of his money.”

Beyond the financial component, I know there’s more. I heard firsthand how choked up he got when his father called him a disappointment. Like anyone, he wants his father’s love and approval. He deserves it, too, even if he might not get it.

“I’ll support you no matter what you do.”

“I know, Vi.” He squeezes my hand before he untangles our fingers, reaching for the gearshift. Putting the car into reverse, he watches the rearview camera as he eases out of the stall. People mill around the parking lot, forcing us to crawl at a painfully slow pace.

“My talk with Russell went well,” he says, brightening slightly. “They want to send me to Chicago after graduation to train with the team.”

Oh, thank God. He needed a win today after everything that’s happened. From what he’s told me, being offered something like that is a huge deal.

I place my palm on his knee. “That’s amazing. I know how hard you’ve worked for that. You deserve it.”

Maybe one day, he’ll finally believe that.

***

Biscuit greets us at the door, grunting with excitement after being without human companionship for all of three hours. Nash grabs his leash off the stand then turns back to face me, waves of agitation rolling off of him.

“Mind if I take him for a walk solo? Nothing against you, Vi, I just need a few minutes to get my head straight.”

At hearing the W-word, Biscuit snorts and prances in circles, a blur of black and tan-colored fur.

“Take as long as you need. I’ll be here.”

While I wait, I curl up on the couch and turn on an episode of Gilmore Girls on Netflix to distract myself. Much as I try to focus on the show, it’s impossible. Sadness and anger claw at my chest relentlessly, determined to break free. All I want is for him to get home so I can give him a giant hug and tell him how much I love him.

A few minutes later, the door opens. I glance up, expecting it to be Nash, but it’s Vaughn. He greets me with a nod, his expression laden with concern.

“Drove past Nash walking Biscuit,” he says quietly, easing onto the couch opposite me. “When I saw him after the game, he told me what happened, but he couldn’t get into details at the rink. Is he okay? Are you okay?”

Vaughn is obviously one of the few people who knows the full situation with his father. At least Nash had someone supporting him all this time we’ve been apart, so he wasn’t facing that alone.

“I’m fine. I want to say he is, but I don’t know.” I ball my hands into fists, trying to quell the flashbacks from earlier tonight. It felt surreal; like something out of a movie, not someone’s life. “I can’t believe I didn’t know how bad it was with his father.”

Vaughn’s chest rises beneath his white T-shirt with a deep breath, and he raises a tattooed arm, raking his hand through his dark hair. “When you grow up that way, sometimes things like that start to feel normal. I mean, on a deeper level you know it isn’t, but you’ve never known anything else so it’s still your normal.”

My heart hurts in a way it never has before, because what I witnessed is anything but normal.

“It was awful,” I whisper. “I feel so bad for him.”

He nods, staring at the floor. “Me, too. I’m glad he has you looking out for him. Even if he’s stubborn as hell sometimes.”

All the time might be more accurate. But I love the total package, stubbornness and all.

“You made the right call by telling him to pull himself,” Vaughn adds, his ice-blue eyes lifting to mine. “I would’ve told Coach myself, if it had come down to it. Would have asked him to keep it anonymous, though.”

Can’t blame Vaughn for the anonymous part. Nash has been known to hold grudges.

The door slams, and Biscuit sprints into the room, leaping over the couch to Vaughn. He picks up Biscuit as he pushes to stand, starting for the hall. “Haas and Parsons went to Overtime, so they’ll be out for a while. I’ll get out of the way and head over there.”

“I’m not trying to kick you out of your own—”

He offers me a half-smile. “All good, Violet. You guys need some time alone.”

Vaughn and Nash talk quietly in the other room for a few minutes, and I return my attention back to my phone while I wait.

Finally, Nash appears in the living room doorway. “What do you say we go to bed? I know it’s only ten, but I’m fucking wiped.”

He follows me upstairs as Biscuit squeezes past, leaping onto the foot of the bed and settling in. Like always, Nash lets me get ready first, and I read while I wait for him to come out. Once he does, he lowers down next to me, mattress sinking beneath his weight, but he stays facing away with his elbows on his thighs. His posture is rigid, the stacked muscles in his upper body stiff, like the weight of everything has caught up to him—the weight of what he’s been carrying around nearly his entire life.

I lower myself to the floor, scooting forward until I’m kneeling between his legs. He lifts his chin slightly, his green eyes stormy beneath his thick lashes. Sympathy swells in my stomach, and another wave of tears threatens to burst free.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly, resting my hands on his bare thighs.

Nash shakes his head and reaches down, pulling me into his lap. He loops his muscular arms around my torso, burying his face in my hair as he draws in a jagged breath. “I don’t want to be like him, Vi.”

There’s so much pain in his voice that it makes me ache down to my bones.

Beneath the anguish in his voice, there’s something else I rarely detect in Nash—fear. I always thought his biggest worry was getting dropped and losing his career, but it’s not. It’s the idea of turning out like his father.

“You’re nothing like him.” My fingertips rest on his cheek. “Sure, you’re a little guarded at times. But like I said, you have a big heart. You’re caring and thoughtful with me in so many ways.”

He huffs. “I almost ruined the best thing that ever happened to me for a second time. Sounds exactly like something he’d do.”

“I’m still here. And like you said to me, that won’t change.” I shift in his lap, turning so we’re facing each other. There’s a wariness across his face, like he doesn’t quite believe me. Like he thinks I’m going to cut and run after what I saw tonight, which couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, we’ll be stronger for it with everything out in the open.

“You don’t have to earn being loved, Nash. I know hockey is a huge part of your identity, but it isn’t all of you. You could hang up your skates tomorrow and I’d still be just as crazy about you.”

Nash pauses, and his brows knit together like he’s taking in what I said. A smile forms on his lips; it’s a smile that he reserves only for me. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you. I think about that every day.”

Then his focus drops to my mouth, and his gaze darkens until it smolders. The ever-present magnetism between us intensifies as he cups my cheek, unleashing a flock of butterflies in my belly. We both let out a sigh as our lips meet, instantly parting. Everything else vanishes, and I melt into him. It never ceases to amaze me how it feels like the first time and forever, every single time.

His hand slides to grip the back of my neck, holding me in place and deepening the kiss. This one says a thousand things all at once, even words he’s never voiced out loud. I feel them every time we touch.

He pulls back, studying me with a mixture of reverence and desire, awe and adoration. “I love you, Vi. I never stopped.”

“I love you.” My voice breaks, along with my composure. Tears begin to stream down my cheeks, complete with huge, wracking sobs. I want to kiss him, but I’m bawling too hard. Gulping for air, I press my face into his bare shoulder while he strokes my back.

He plants a kiss on the crown of my head, holding me tighter. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I promise I’ll never give up on us.”

This only makes me cry harder, because it’s something I needed to hear without even knowing it.

Eventually, my breath steadies, and the tears slow to a halt. Nash presses his lips to my forehead and scoops me up, setting me beside him at the head of the bed. He arranges the covers over both of us and drapes his large, heavy frame around mine, intertwining our hands.

“I love when you’re big spoon,” I murmur, savoring the closeness between us.

He hums. “Me, too.”

For a few moments, we lie in silence. It feels like we’ve been broken apart and now, the pieces are mending back together. But this time, it’s for good.

Nash rises onto one elbow behind me and pushes my hair to the side, exposing my neck. A warm kiss lands beneath my ear, and his palm slips beneath my tank top, settling flat against my stomach. My body lights up with desire as his hand drifts lower, past my navel.

“I thought you said you were tired,” I tease, rolling onto my back to look up at him.

He grins down at me, his chestnut hair tumbling over his forehead. “Never too tired for you.” His dark green eyes are playful as he shifts against me, his thick length pressing into my thigh as proof. “I love you, and now I’m going to spend all night showing you just how much.”