The Cocky Hockey Captain

Chapter 17 ● Fathers At Odds

"I'm here to pick up my kid," my dad replied with a lot more ice in his voice than I was used to hearing. This was my dad when he was livid but couldn't express it freely, lest someone called child services.

I was a dead woman walking.

"Oh yeah?" Dean's old man angled his body towards dad. "Why don't you pick up your kid and fuck all the way off to your beach, then?"

"Dad!" Dean barked. The man only glanced at us once before focusing his attention on my dad again. By this point the crowd had begun to zero in on the altercation and gather all around us. "Stop, please."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. His dad whirled around and in two long strides reached his son. He grabbed the collar of Dean's coat and brought him close to his face. With difficulty, I might add, because Dean stood ramrod stiff like a giant made out of solid rock. I was just off behind him and could see the side of the older man's face contort with so much anger that I was sure he was going to strike Dean right there, in front of the whole town.

I realized that I was not the only one who didn't get along with her dad. I'd convinced myself somehow that everybody else had a great relationship with their dad but me. And yet.

And yet, my dad loved me. In his weird, detached way. He was going to kill me tonight, sure, but I knew the outcome the second I decided to join a boy's hockey team without telling him. His anger was justified.

This, the sheer fury I saw in this man's face as he looked at his son — his perfect son who had won a gold medal for his country and his town this summer, this was not normal. There was no way this was provoked.

My hand reached for the sleeve of Dean's coat and I pulled at it. That was all my numb body could achieve at that point. I was shocked then when suddenly the older man jerked backward, the motion revealing the culprit behind it to be my dad. Someone gasped. I figured I better get ready for a fight to break out as my dad and Dean's stared each other down.

I had to stop this before it escalated. This wasn't like a hockey game.

"Dad, let's just go home, okay?" I said.

Both men looked at me. I must have looked sufficiently scared that the fight seemed to leech off of them. Dean's dad said something to mine. It was so low that I couldn't hear, but whatever it was fogged my dad's face up, and it wasn't just because everybody's breath was coming out in a puff.

"Let's go, Dean," the man said with a cutting voice.

I looked up at the captain of my team. My friend. The town's golden boy. His eyes betrayed nothing. They were dark and closed off, not at all that vulnerable Caribbean blue I'd grown used to. The only thing that gave away the turmoil inside of him was the ticking muscle in his jaw. He was grinding his teeth so hard it was a wonder he didn't snap them off.

"Are you going to be okay?" I whispered.

He looked at me, but it seemed to take him a second to realize who I was. He swallowed thickly and nodded before following his father.

The crowd started dispersing as they left. I looked around us for the first time and saw the pitying glances, the upturned lips and noses. They'd all seen what had just happened. None of them had intervened. I didn't know if it was because they all hated my dad, or if it was because they'd seen a performance like this from Dean's father before, or both. I caught Pace's eyes and he shook his head as if to say that now was not the moment to talk. And we would. I needed to understand what the hell had just happened.

But after my dad killed me, I guessed.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked by me, saying, "Let's go."