Bad Idea~Jonathan Toews Fanfic~

Restless

I dodge the question, trying to change the subject away from that. I know Jonathan can tell what I'm doing, but he goes with it. We continue to talk and joke about things when my father calls out to the guys.

"Go jump in the snow. It's good for you".

The guys groan and jump out of the pool, out the sliding glass door, and into the November snow. We had a snowstorm last night, and have at least three feet of the hard, easily packed snow. Jonathan is the first, followed by his alternative captains, and then the rest of the team. The girlfriends and wives take pictures out the window.

It seems like, all at once, the team jumps out of the snow, and sprints back in, jumping into the pool. Kayla and I race to get into the corner where they won't jump on us. 25 guys jumping into a pool at one time doesn't make a splash at all, not!

Mom and my sisters come into the room and ask if the guys were hungry at all, which is always a 'yes'. They go back into the main house and into the kitchen where they're making the team lunch. Do you know how much it costs to feed almost 60 people?

~~~~~~~~~~

"Cyn", I hear called through my apartment. It's Brad, my boyfriend of almost two years. It's two AM, and he just came home from a party I refused to go to. He's probably drunk, like usual.

I crawl out of bed and throw on a T-shirt. I walk out of the bedroom to find Brad standing in our living room, looking over at me. He stumbles over to me, towering over my small figure. His hands grip my waist and he tries to pull me into a kiss, but I back away.

"No, Brad. You're drunk. Let's just get to bed", I say to him. He rolls his eyes.

"Come on, Cyn, just one kiss. Then we can go to the bedroom", Brad smirks.

"No. You're drunk. If you're drunk, you sleep on the couch, you know that", I raise my voice.

I knew that would get him mad. He takes a step closer to me, grabbing my arm harshly. "I said, let's go to bed".

I try to unlatch his arm. He just holds tighter. Brad pulls me towards him and pushes me against his own chest. "I said. You sleep on the couch".

That sent him over the edge. He pushes me off of him, making me stumble backwards. Brad takes one step towards me and swings his arm to my face. I stumble back again as the force of the slap hits me. My own hand is on my face immediately, rubbing my cheek slightly.

"That's it", I scream at him. He stands his ground. "This isn't the first time, and I know this wouldn't be the last. I'm leaving. For good".

I storm into our bedroom and slam the door, locking it so he can't come in. I find a bag in my closet and ignore Brad pounding his fist on the door. I pile clothes into the bag, and take all of my personal items from the connected bathroom. I throw on a pair of jeans and a random jacket, and open the door once again. Brad stares at me, though not shocked, as I walk into the main room and slip on a pair of shoes.

"I never want to see you again. Leave this apartment, or I will have the landlord change the locks. I'll find a way to pay for it myself".

That was the last time I ever talked to Brad Malone, center for the Washington Capitals.

~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up in a cold sweat, staring into the darkness above me. I'm breathing heavily with the images running through my head of the many times Brad Malone hit me across the face, or kicked me, or punched me. A month after I left him, he was drafted into the NHL and moved far away. He's an amazing player, and I loved him so dearly, but the first moment he hit me, I knew I had to leave. It was only two months or so, and I knew I only had to wait another month because he was a pick for the 2007 draft. I was only 19, and it was our second year of dating. We had moved in together in our second year of college, so it was easier to pay rent, instead of a dorm room. 

I finally calm myself down and look over at the clock. 6:30. I have half an hour until my alarm goes off, so I decide to get the head start on my busy day. The team has an morning practice before their game tonight.

Throwing the soft, warm covers from over me, I pick up my sweatshirt from the floor and just wrap it over my shoulders. I immediately walk into my bathroom and turn on my shower, closing the door to trap in the heat.

I let the hot water run over my face and stand still in the water. The horrifying images of seeing Brad drunk haunt me, and probably will forever. The nights he would come home drunk and beat me until I was almost unconscious. I would lay on the floor of my living room, scared to tell my Dad because he would have beaten Brad himself, not going to the police or anything. But I was also too far away for my Dad to have done anything. I called the police once, and almost had a restraining order, but that was only a week before I left him, that night in my dream.

I get out of the shower and hear my phone's text ring come from my room. I open the door into my cold room, walk over to the side of my bed, and take my hone off it's charger. It's from Patrick.

Mrning skte cancelled, schedule error. Caps have it until noon.

I almost drop my phone when I read the last sentence. I tremble in fear as hot tears fall down my cheeks.

Brad is in town.

*

Sorry for any of my readers who are Brad Malone/Washington Capitals fans. CJ and Brad went to University of North Dakota at the same time.

Enjoy the rest of the book.

Madeleine