WRECKING THE CRUEL HOCKEY GOD

Chapter 8: Heart-break Tastes Delicious

I watch Cleo over the rim of my wine glass as she crosses the room toward Zykiel.

"Babyyyyy." She sings, and he stretches one hand to hold her. She lands on his lap instead.

She kisses his face all over between every word. "Five whole days, baby. Five… f*****g… days apart and I thought I was gonna lose my mind. I missed you so much."

I look away real fast. I don't even know why I was watching that in the first place.

Good for him. Glad he's still got someone to f**k while he ruins other people's lives for fun.

Garrett’s lips almost graze my ears with more gossip. “I heard she was once a Bi. But she gave that up just to be with Zykiel Gunner. They've been together for five years now,” Garrett whispers.

And I whip my head around to glare at him. “A Bi? Was she a half gay?” I whisper-yell.

“Shut up!” Garrett grunts and I seal my mouth shut immediately.

First of all, my question should be how the hell Garrett knew those details and I don't, but that's not what I'm thinking about.

Actually, my thoughts have started firing in all directions.

All those years I crushed so stupidly hard on Zykiel, he had another girl?

But she ain't some casual girl, is she? She had to go completely straight just to be with Zykiel? That's a grand f*****g gesture.

The thoughts keep circling in my mind and somehow it's causing my heart to burn and race at the same time.

Someone taps me on the shoulder, dragging me out of my mind.

"You're free to start the interviews whenever,” Mikael says.

“But just so you know, every single thing you plan to publish gets reviewed by Zykiel first. He's the captain, he signs off before anything goes online. Break that rule and you're getting fined."

My head swings with shock to look at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Mara."

"So I just interview people, get real answers, and then hand it over for someone to decide what part of the truth I'm allowed to publish?"

"Basically."

"That's not journalism, Mikael. I don't do secrets when I write. I publish the truth the way it is.”

"It's the deal, Mara. Take it up with the man himself if you don't like it."

"Oh, I will. Believe me." I set my glass down on the table and the poor glass almost smashes from the harsh keep.

“What happens if I publish something true that he just doesn't feel like sharing with the world?"

"Then you get fined. And depending on how mad he is, maybe worse than fined."

"Worse how?" I scoff.

"I don't know, Mara. Ask him. I'm just the messenger here."

"Oh! How convenient," Garrett breathes beside me.

"So basically I flew out here, packed my whole life into a suitcase, to write whatever Zykiel Gunner decides is good press for his team?"

"When you say it like that it does sound bad."

"It sounds bad because it is bad, Mikael!"

"Look, it's not that deep. Nobody's censoring your soul, Mara. Just don't post anything that makes the team look messy before it's cleared."

"And if I refuse to sign off on that?"

Mikael leans back, arms crossed. "Then your stay here gets a lot less fun for you. Real quickly."

I can't even hold back the dramatic, ugly scoff that's about to escape my lips.

Zykiel's voice interrupts before I can fire back, deep and unbothered, coming from where he's still sitting with Cleo resting on his chest.

"Leave her alone, Mikael. I'll go over the specifics with her once everyone's settled."

Mikael puts both hands up and backs off. “Cool. Cool. No troubles, Gunner.”

I switch on my camera instead, because arguing with a man who's sliding tongues with his chick while he talks… feels like a fight that's totally not worth my time.

I aim the camera at the quietest guy in the room, tucked into the corner of a couch with a glass of wine. Totally minding his own business.

"Hey, big guy. Can I get an intro?"

He throws up a two-finger peace sign. "I'm Erin. I play left wing for the Gunner Wolves."

"Ohhhhhh! That's incredible, Erin! One word to describe the team right now?"

He thinks about it for a second, smirking straight into the lens. "Dangerous. Loud. Wickedest."

"Not one word, but I'll allow it. Thanks, Erin."

I swing the camera toward the next guy. He's the one that vomited rice without chicken. I remember his history from the bus.

"Hey, Jax, can I get an intro?"

"I'm Jasper Auguste, and I'd like you to f**k off. Peace."

The whole team loses it, Jax included, cracking up at his own joke.

I sigh. Great.

Love an early morning with a professional asshole. Good thing my resume already lists "dealing with assholes" as a core skill.

Mikael gets close and smacks the back of Jax's head. "Behave, bastard."

"Alright, alright, my bad." Jax straightens up, still grinning. "I play center. Or I try to survive playing center whenever Gunner decides to run drills like we personally wronged him."

"That's much better, Jax. Let's hope our future interactions stay this smooth.”

I move the camera on, and my blood chills to ice before their faces even land in my frame.

Finn's on the couch with Eve tucked against him, her thumbs flicking across her phone screen, barely looking up.

"I'm Finn. Been around but… just officially joined the team today," he says flatly, looking bored, like introducing himself is beneath him now.

He nudges Eve's arm. "Say something, pookie."

She lifts her head and flashes a huge grin at the camera. "Ohhhhhh, I'm Eve Hilderson, and I'm the forever loyal cheerleader for the Gunner fuckers."

Then she tugs the collar of her shirt open a little, showing off a bra underneath.

"By the way, Mara, I'm wearing this Chanel my man got me." She taps the strap. "He said he paid for it with your heartbreak money. And I just want to say… your heartbreak tastes delicious."

I nearly choke on my own horrified gasp.

The audacity of this redhead… it actually stuns me for a second.

I smile instead, bringing the camera close, enough to get a real good look at the bra hanging a little loose on her chest.

"Are there any boobs in there? I genuinely cannot see a cleavage for f**k's sake.”

Her grin drops instantly. She yanks her shirt closed, the lollipop nearly slipping out of her mouth, face going red.

Finn pulls her back against him and glares at me. "f**k off, Mara."

"Oh, I've been dying to."

I move the camera immediately, smirking at how red her face just turned.

Years ago after my mom died and I moved to her brother's home, Uncle Decks.

He enrolled me in a new school and I would fall asleep in class and have panic attacks. My friends would laugh and bully me for it.

But Uncle Decks taught me one thing. When it comes to bullies, attack them where it hurts. It'll get them malfunctioning instead of you.

My heart instantly climbs into my throat the moment the camera hits Zykiel's face.

Him and Cleo are still going, tongues and all, not caring one bit that a camera's pointed their direction.

His hand grabs her arse and squeezes it, tattoo stretched across his knuckles.

Something about that tattooed hand grabbing an arse still feels too familiar.

Perhaps a memory, where he was grabbing MY ASS, not hers?

I can't believe I was that level of “down bad” for such an evil psycho.

I intentionally clear my throat, loud, hoping it breaks whatever's happening in front of me.

But it doesn't. Cleo swings her legs up onto his lap instead, deepening the kiss like my camera isn't even there.

"Oh my God, you have to be kidding me," I breathe out, exasperated.

Her top shifts as she moves, and that's when I see something, inked just on top of her t**s.

“ZYK’S PROPERTY” That's exactly what she tattooed on her t**s.

I blurt out a short laugh, half shock, half something I don't have a name for.

"Is that a tattoo? I'd genuinely love a closer shot."

Cleo pulls back from him and gives me a happy grin. "Yeah. Here, get a clean shot."

She tugs her top down a little, flashing her cleavage straight at my lens with zero shame.

I snap the camera shut so aggressively, it nearly drops. I'm not shooting porn.

"Okay! I'm done, Mikael!"

"Perfect!" Mikael claps once, sounding half excited and half exhausted by all of us.

"Everybody, go get settled. We've got tonight's party to prep for!"

The room cheers. Garrett raises his hand. "Does everyone already have a room?"

"Yep," Mikael says. "All sorted."

"What about us? How do we get one?"

Finn interrupts without even looking over. "Sorry, rookie. All the rooms are taken."

"That's completely unfair," Garrett says. "This place has more rooms than I can count. There's no way every single one is full."

Mikael grabs a key card off the table and tosses it toward Garrett.

He misses it and it lands on the floor. Then he crouches, and picks it back up.

"That one's yours." Mikael points toward a room upstairs. "Second door on the left."

"Great." Garrett straightens up. "What about my friend here?"

Mikael's face goes blank for a second, like the answer just walked out of his head, and his eyes move to Zykiel.

I feel something shift in the room. Something's definitely off here.

"Rooms are full,” Zykiel says. “The last one went to Garrett, since she brought a plus-one nobody asked for."

He finally looks over at me. "As for the reporter, she takes the room I give her."

My mouth drops open. "Excuse me? Why would you be the one handing out my room specifically?"

He stands, unfolding to his full height, and starts walking toward me. Every step of it feels like the room's shrinking around him.

"Because I said the rooms are full, Kensley. Your friend just took the one meant for you."

He stops close enough that I have to tip my head back to keep looking at his sharp face.

He tilts his head, his eyes dragging down to my lips before snapping back to my eyes, then a cocky smile follows. "Now move, Kensley. Let's get you your own room.”