WRECKING THE CRUEL HOCKEY GOD

Chapter 13: Free Spaghetti

Even though the VIP section is dark with red light, I can see the faint smirk and the dramatic tilting of his head. I smirk too, hoping he’s enjoying the view.

Cleo follows Zykiel's gaze immediately and clocks it, tapping his chest.

Zykiel catches himself, then looks down at his girlfriend whose height ends right at his chest.

He adjusts, giving me one tiny glance before he fully looks away, and they settle into their black leather couches.

I laugh slightly, grinning. I literally cannot tell if this is a laugh of amusement or a blushing laugh.

Garrett was darn right—this is the best night of my f*****g life.

I face the barman, who has a buzzcut and wears a grey tight shirt.

"I'm Tiego," he says, resting his forearms on the tiled counter. He gives me an easy look from my hair to my chest.

“What would you like to have? And… Just a warning, though. Everything here is free, but if you want a soft drink, something so off tonight's mood—you'll pay for it. Soft things are not cheap around here."

“Hmmm. Alright, Tiego. Since I'm having a great time, I'd love to have something so 'On The Mood.'"

I point at the row of dark bottles lining the shelf behind him. "Give me three shots of whatever strong stuff you've got."

The man's eyes widen with a smile. "Ambitious! I love that."

Right then, a delicious scent travels past my nose from somewhere behind the counter. I lean forward slightly, taking it in. "What the heck is that?"

"We have a kitchen inside," he says, reaching down for a clean glass bottle. "Just in case you get hungry from too much drinking."

My head perks up. I haven't even taken a sip of anything yet, but my stomach feels completely hollow. "For free?"

“Yes, free. Spaghetti with shredded chicken is on the menu tonight. Turkey soup, pasta with cheese too."

"Bring a plate, please. The spaghetti and shredded chicken."

He nods, sliding three empty shots toward me. "Coming right up."

I didn't even realize free food could make me this excited until this second.

Three minutes later, he comes out from the back door carrying an enticing plate of spaghetti. The steam rises straight into my face, and my stomach makes a happy growl.

I take the plate, grab the metal fork, set it on the bar counter, and dig in.

The incredible taste. gets my eyeballs rolling. I think I'm having a food-gasm.

He pours the three shots into neat little glasses next to my plate. As I chew the second bite, I can't help but ask.

“Why are things actually free here? A plate of food like this has an intense price out there."

The man wipes down a dry spot on the bar with a rag. "Well, let's just say the captain has a way of taking care of his people."

My head shoots up mid-eating. "Really?"

I swallow the pasta and lean an inch closer. "What about when you're not... his people? What would that mean for you?"

Tiego leans close, lowering his tone. "Well, I ain't been on that side before, and I hope not to. The coach gave me a job, he saved my family. He's the last person on earth I'd ever want to be on his bad side."

I turn slightly on my stool and stare straight at the VIP platform, wondering what my fate will be since I'm sitting firmly on the hate side of Zykiel Gunner, and sleeping in his mansion too.

I watch him grab a fat, brown smoke stick from a silver tray served by a passing waitress.

Cleo lights it up for him, and he blows out a heavy drag, turning that whole VIP space white with dancing smoke.

“Great! A smoker.”

Two big guys in black hoodies walk up to the VIP and settle on the couch opposite Zykiel. Those guys don't look anything like his teammates, I'm damn sure of that.

It makes me wonder what kind of people he deals with outside his team and sports stuff.

“Is he still into shady stuff? How unrepenting,” I mouth silently to myself.

The men shake hands with Zykiel, and they're all laughing together. The sound of a genuine laugh coming out of Zykiel Gunner's mouth makes me want to yank my hair out.

I click my tongue and swerve around on my stool, so I can continue eating and give that psycho way less eye time.

Then... now of all times, I spot Eve walking toward the bar where I'm sitting.

I quickly focus on my delicious business, hoping not to give her a single crumb of attention if that's what she’s coming here to catch.

I reach out, pick up the first shot glass and push the fluid into my mouth.

It stings like absolute hell going down my throat, and I'm seriously losing my breath with coughs, thumping my palm on my chest to force it down.

"Damn, it's strong!" I scream at Tiego.

"You asked for the burn, the burn you shall get," Tiego says, watching me with a light grin.

I pick my fork back up and start eating, but that single shot goes straight to my head, making my brain feel woozy straight away.

Eve takes a spot on the stool beside me, the heavy smell of her perfume competing with the smell of my pasta.

"I'd love a glass of cocktail Tiego," Eve orders.

"Coming right up Eve."

My face stays down near my plate, but from the corner of my vision, I can see Eve's fresh nepo-baby lap glittering under the counter.

I can also see the spot where the red wine I made her spill earlier completely ruined her pink dress. Very ugly and very announcing.

I can't help but smirk at it. My entrance caused quite a bit of damage to some people tonight. I totally ignore her and focus on my free spaghetti.

The second shot goes in, the hotness burning my throat.

Tiego returns and serves Eve a wide glass of something yellow, complete with a thin slice of orange and fresh peppermint leaves sitting on top.

Eve takes a sip, then drops her glass onto the wooden counter. I can feel her gaze shooting bullets into the side of my face.

"So… how'd it feel f*****g my boyfriend for a whole year? Mara Kensley?"

I stab my fork into a thick shred of chicken, her words causing my bowels to shift in disgust.

The meat goes into my mouth anyway, and I chew, keeping my voice cool as I turn to face her.

"If you want my genuine response, Eve. It felt like doing charity work. At least my love made him feel important for once."

Eve blurts out a sharp grunt. The sound of her teeth grinding together is loud enough for me to hear, but I pay her zero currency.

I reach for the third shot, taking it down to keep my adrenaline pumping with pissed-off energy and excitement.

"So... you're saying it doesn't bother you that you're just a broke, pathetic side-piece he used for money? You seem like you've easily accepted that?"

I drop my fork on the plate. My fingers trembling with the violent urge to slap something.

"And you’re the main piece he still had to cheat on? Must hurt knowing even his fake relationship paid better than whatever you had going on."

Eve gasps, grabbing her wine glass instantly to choke down the remaining hate words she was about to spew.

Good. Finally some peace.

I watch her out of the corner of my eye, seething and fuming beside my stool.

"Finn said you scream in your sleep like a freak. Is that true?"

I turn toward her on my stool, fully loaded and ready.

"Funny, because he never made me scream once. Guess that’s why he needed me to scream on my own?"

Eve charges forward, invading my space with her fuming face. "At least I get the real him. You got paid leftovers, b***h!" Eve screams with a red face, her nose flaring up with the rage she brought upon herself.

The whole sight almost has me laughing because I can see how deeply I'm getting into her head.

"Leftovers? Eve, come on.”

I lean close, “My tears got you a bra upgrade. You should learn to maintain some peace so your t**s can grow. I can't have my tears wasted on tiny t**s, you know?" I ask her, picking up the glass to take the last sip of my shot.

I am still sipping when Eve's yellow leftover wine makes a wild, dramatic splash on my face that gets my head spinning with shock and white rage.

I drop the shot with a messy clatter on the table, my whole body literally shaking as Eve's chilled drink rains down my clothes, soaking it up.

"That's what you get for dressing like a desperate slut just to get my boyfriend's attention! Nice try, Mara. But Finn is mine, b***h!”

I'm literally still shocked. My face feels cold and slippery with wine that smells like cherry.

I watch as Eve stands to leave, laughing at the mess she caused.

A silly scoff escapes me, totally in disbelief of what just happened. And I drag my hand over my face, just to get rid of the wetness.

But something snaps in my head real quick.

This is the height of it. This is literally the f*****g height of it. And I'm going to do just what Uncle Decks taught me to do.

"Wait!" I call out to Eve with a trembling voice.

Eve stops and turns around, but before she can utter a word, my hand already picked up the plate of my delicious spaghetti and I pour it straight into her face, creating a perfect post-party makeup look.

"Arhhhhh!" Eve screams and staggers back, her hands with pointy nails hanging in the air with absolute horror.

That's when everyone finally turns and the audience loses it: "WHAOOOOOO!"

"That's what you get for making me lose my appetite, b***h!" I scream into her face.