Page 21 of Puck, Marry, Kill

“Sounds like you practiced a bit too much,” Tyler suggests sourly. “Maybe if Dominic had stopped before you were too tired, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

He means it to be a dig on my coaching skills, but Harley’s proud smile falters and that makes me want to punch this fucker in his smug, smirking mouth.

“Can I talk to you in the hallway, please?” Briar asks Tyler through a forced, fake smile, her teeth clenched tightly.

As they step out, Tyler gives me a shit-eating grin. “Sure, babe. Let’s talk.” He makes it sound like they’re stepping into the hallway to fuck.

I take a steadying breath, reminding myself that punching him won’t do any of us any good. Especially Briar and Harley.

“Did I take too long to make the shots?” Harley’s question grabs my attention, and when I turn back, he looks uncertain.

“It took however long it took. You were still slamming those shots full-strength and hadn’t slowed down the pace, so you didn’t seem tired in the slightest. To me, you were putting in good effort, which is all you can ask of yourself and all a coach should ask of you.” I let that sink in for a moment before adding, “Hockey’s a tough sport. You get hurt, you get better, you play again. This is nothing more than an asterisk on your season and a cool story to tell at school.”

Harley dips his chin, thinking that over.

In the moment of silence, we hear raised voices, and he looks to me for help. Standing up, I say, “Gimme a second, Harley. Need to blow my nose.”

He gives me a wary look, but I use the excuse to step outside, where Tyler’s leaning into Briar, his tone harsh and bullying. “What the hell are you doing, bringing that motherfucker—”

“Excuse me,” I growl, stepping in between them. I’m trying to play it cool, but if this asshole takes one more step toward Briar, I’ll forget this isn’t the ice, and show him what it feels like to get boarded ... right through the fucking wall behind him.

Keeping my voice low and calm, I tell him, “Harley can hear you. And you don’t raise your voice to Briar. Not while I’m around.” I correct myself, “Not ever. Understand?”

Tyler, for a second, looks like he’s about to bow up, but instead, he smartly backs up a step. Briar lays a hand on my back. “He can hear us?”

“Not any longer,” I assure her, but I’m glaring warningly at the man everyone, not only Harley, heard speaking to her that way. Turning, I look into her eyes, making the whole world just the two of us. “Are you okay? What can I do?”

I have a few ideas of my own. Most relate to teaching her ex some fucking manners, but he’s not my focus here. Briar is. Harley is.

She nods jerkily and cuts her eyes to the curtain. “I’m fine. Can you watch Harley?”

My message has been delivered, so I dip my chin slightly, and go back inside the room, leaving the curtain a bit more open, needing to see and hear Briar and Tyler better.

Harley peers at me uneasily. After a long minute of silence, he whispers, “Can I tell you something?”

His tone has me immediately locking in. “You can tell me anything, kid. Anything.”

He glances toward the curtain, smartly checking for feet beneath it, but there are none. Wherever Briar and Tyler went to continue their conversation is far enough away to give Harley and me a moment of privacy. Honestly, there’s a big piece of me that wants to track Briar down and fight that battle for her, but she’s been doing it on her own for a long while, so I have to trust she’s strong enough to continue it. Plus, she asked me to stay here with her son, a responsibility I take seriously.

“I hate it when they’re together. My mom and dad, I mean.” He acts like that’s full-blown blasphemy to say aloud.

“Why?” I come back over and sit down in the chair next to his bed. “Do they fight a lot?”

“I wish,” he huffs. “But no. Dad says mean things to Mom. She tries to correct him sometimes; other times, she ignores him. She calls it gray rock.” He shrugs a tiny shoulder. “Either way, he gets mad and gets loud. The louder he gets, the quieter Mom gets.”

He risks glancing up at me, gauging my reaction to his revelation, and I have to work to school my face into something less murderous than I’m feeling. Tyler is mean to Briar? Yells at her? At all is bad enough, but in front of their kid? That’s even worse.

“And then what?” I ask carefully, my fingers gripping the arm of my chair.

“She used to cry after seeing him. She doesn’t know that I know that, so don’t tell her, okay?” he pleads. I nod, silently agreeing, even though Briar and I are going to have a chat about this. But I’ll make sure to do it without betraying Harley’s confidence. “She thinks the crying makes her look weak, but I think it means she’s strong enough to not unleash on Dad. I wish he was that strong because all he does is take stuff out on herthat she doesn’t deserve. Like him always being late or no-showing. He says she should’ve reminded him, but he’s a grown-up. He should know, right?” he implores me. Under his breath, he grumbles, “Mom doesn’t have to remind me about my homework and I’m nine.”

The things I want to say about Tyler aren’t suitable for little ears. Instead, I concentrate on Harley. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

He smiles weakly. “Thanks to Mom.” He starts fidgeting with the blanket, pulling at a loose string. “Dom? Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything,” I vow.

“Don’t treat Mom like Dad does, okay? She shouldn’t cry. She should smile all the time.”