Queen Of The Marchetti Daddies

4| HATING HER

LACHLAN

“The f**k, man!” Nick barked as I slammed another player into the boards hard enough to rattle the ice.

The whistle shrieked, but I didn’t care.

“Marchetti! Two minutes!”

I shoved my mouthguard back between my teeth and skated toward the penalty box without a word.

The guy had gotten back up already. Good, because he wasn’t the one I wanted to hit.

Trying to maintain focus, I glided towards the net, checking anyone that dared to come close.

The commentator went crazy, tension built in the stadium, and adrenaline coursed through me as I advanced closer to the net.

And I shot the ball.

“Goal!” The arena erupted just as the buzzer sounded.

We’d won.

My teammates threw their gloves into the air, piling onto each other near the net. I didn’t join them. I pulled off my helmet instead, and headed straight for the tunnel.

“Lan!” Nick shouted behind me. “Where are you going, man?”

I kept walking.

I should’ve been thinking about the championship. This was the first game for the season, and I’d been more than ready to focus and give it my best.

Instead, all I could think about while I was on that rink, was a sad girl in a wedding dress, begging for her life.

Pathetic. That was what she was. Anyone with half a brain would’ve walked away from Flint long ago. Instead, she carved out pieces of herself for that f*****g bastard. She didn’t deserve pity.

So why couldn’t I get her out of my damn mind?

Asia was still hung up over Flint. It was like all those years ago again, where she had stood near the stadium in wait for me, asking me to sign in her boyfriend’s shirt. He was too shy to come, so she’d brought the shirt for me to sign, on her own.

That was the moment I decided that Flint Roberts was a f*****g p***y, and he didn’t deserve her one bit. She wouldn’t look at me, so I made her, by teasing her about everything. Everywhere.

Years later, she was still Flint’s puppet. Even when he’d let her go.

“Lan!”

I looked over my shoulder. Nick stood there, his gages on his waist.

“Are you okay? I’ve been calling out for you.”

I nodded, taking out a bottle of water from my locker. “I’m good.” I opened the bottle and chugged the water down.

“You kept pushing everyone on that match. I don’t think you’re okay. I mean, you get rough but not this rough?” He took the water off my hands and took a sip.

My phone rang in the locker. I took it out.

West.

“Hello?”

“Thank f**k. I need you to… wait. First, how was the game?”

“We won. What’s up?”

“Damn, chill. Congrats brother.” He said, and I nodded as if he could see me, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“What’s up?” I asked again.

“I’m out of state. Jagger is, too. Asia is refusing to eat. I dropped off a few shirts and pants for her before I left. The chef told me she locked the door from inside afterwards, and won’t open for anyone. You have the spare keys, can you head over there and get this under control at least? We still need her alive. She hasn’t even done the recording yet.” He told me. I ran a hand through my hair, walking away from the locker room that was beginning to get filled up. I stopped in front of one of the bathroom stalls.

“Tell the guards to break down the door or something, man. I have no interest in playing babysitter. If it were up to me, she wouldn’t be alive right now.” I said, and West scoffed.

“Like you would have ever pulled that trigger.”

My teeth grinded over each other.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have. But I really wanted to. She spent almost all her entire life loving Flint. Why do you think she’s just going to turn him in now? You even said she asked to speak to him?”

West sighed deeply on the other end.

“Can you just go check on her?”

“Do I have a choice?” I snarled, ending the call and slipping my phone into my pocket.

I headed straight to the shower to take a quick bath.

*

Minutes later, I drove into the parking lot of the house and got out of the car in a hurry, wanting to get this over with.

I entered the house and headed straight to the room she was kept in. True to West’s words, the chef and guards stood outside the door.

I scoffed, making my way to the door and unlocking it.

The door swung open and I stepped in, freezing at the sight of her absence on the bed.

I slowly turned to the staffs at the door. Their frightened gazes peered into the room as well.

“She didn’t leave, Sir. I’m sure of it. We have been at the entrance all day, she hasn’t left…”

I slammed the door shut behind me and walked further into the room, only realizing I’d made a mistake when a lamp smashed into my head from behind.

I staggered forward, hearing her start picking at the lock. I reached for her before she could open the door, pulling her to myself, with her back pressed against my front.

“Let me go!” She screamed, wiggling in my hold. She smelled fresh—like West, and she wore his shirt as well. A primate part of me wanted to tear the shirt off her and give her mine instead, but I tried to focus on the task at hand.

Getting her to calm the f**k down before I snapped her neck.

“Stop being a f*****g brat and stay put. You get one escape attempt. Try to get out of this room again and I’ll make sure I put you in restraints.” I snapped against her ear, but she didn’t stop. No. She wriggled harder against me, rubbing her ass against my crotch as she did.

Then she abruptly stopped. A minute passed between us, and she turned around in a slow movement to face me.

Her wet, doe eyes peered up at me, and it felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest. Her face was freshly washed now, free from all the ruined makeup, but now, her eye-bags were noticeable. She looked so fragile, like she’d break with just a wrong touch.

My jaw clenched, the need to take Flint’s life increasing by every second.

“Please, Lan… can you…” She paused and sniffed, then bit her bottom lip like she was considering the request.

“What do you want, bambolina?” I questioned, unable to help myself with her.

She sniffed again, searching my eyes. I didn’t ask her again, even though I was dying to.

She eventually spoke, “I… can you please call Flint?”