Captive (6 page)

He signed programs, shook hands, chatted and even posed for a couple pictures before begging off. A foreign sense of resentment took root when he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into his warmth on the walk to the car.

“How many boobs do you think you’ve seen?” I blurted.

He laughed and the corners of his eyes wrinkled with amusement. “I never kept count, baby, why?”

“Just ballpark it.”

“Uh … you know, maybe a couple hundred sets? Since high school, that is. Why are you taking a sudden interest in boobs? Not that I’m opposed.”

“Aren’t you tired of mine? Don’t you ever wish for boob variety?”

We’d reached our Land Rover, and he surprised me by wrapping the sides of his long coat around me and backing me against the passenger door.

“No, I don’t. I’ve had enough of variety. Your boobs are perfect, anyway.”

I sighed, the closeness of his clean after-shower smell throwing me off balance. This time I felt him hardening against my stomach. I wanted so badly to part my legs and let him know he was affecting me.

“Did you tell everyone about my miscarriage?” I asked, staring up at him. He inched back, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“What? No. God, no. You think I’d do that?”

“Everyone knows,” I said, my voice breaking with emotion. He stepped back and reached for the door handle, opening it. I slid into my seat and he leaned his forearms on the top of the car, looking down at me solemnly.

“I didn’t and I wouldn’t, Kate,” he said. “That’s our personal business. I haven’t told a soul except Mimi. Not even my parents. No one knew we were expecting, so they don’t need to know we’re not now.”

I nodded, knowing he was telling the truth.

“Did somebody say something to you?” There was no mistaking the set of his jaw and the anger in his tone; he was ready to do battle with someone.

“No,” I said. “Not like that, baby. Someone just said they were sorry and I asked Dawn if everyone knows and she said they do.”

Ryke shook his head, his expression turning fierce. “Fucking nice of Vic and the other guys to let me know. Jack knew I was with you when I missed that game, but nothing else was ever said to anyone.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Can we just go home?”

He nodded and closed the door. I knew the silent tension on the drive home wasn’t because he was mad at me, but it still made me feel bad. Yet again, I’d ruined his good mood. It was my new talent.

I crossed a foot over my thigh to stretch and turned, catching Luke’s glance at me. We were alone on a corner of the ice getting ready for practice.

“What?” I asked gruffly.

“Christ, you’re surly lately. I barely even looked at you,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Surly? Are you fucking an English professor or something?”

“Sorry, man. Let me speak your language: You’re fucking fucked lately. What the fuck’s your problem?”

“Nothing.”

“How’s Kate?”

I turned to face him. “Why the hell do you ask?”

“Because unlike you, I’m not an asshole. I’m your friend, even when you’re a moody bitch, which is always lately.”

“You know what happened, so why don’t you just say it?” I got up from the ice and glared down at him.

“Why don’t you just tell me how the hell she is and stop being such a prick?” He leaned back on the ice and met my stare. Luke was the only one who could talk to me this way and not get his ass beat.

“You could’ve told me everyone knew,” I snapped. “You should’ve. Kate got blindsided the other night at the game.”

“Sorry, man. I didn’t think you wanted to talk about it.”

“There wasn’t supposed to be anything to talk about!” I slammed my fist into the Plexiglas and the force of the hit echoed in the arena. “I can’t figure out how the fuck everyone knows, but when I do, someone’s gonna be sorry.”

“It was Holly Mayweather,” Luke said, getting to his feet.

“Steve’s wife? How the hell did she find out?”

“She’s got a friend who works at the hospital. But seriously, man, no one’s talking shit about you guys. Everyone loves Kate, and we tolerate your ass because we like her so much. It’s just concern, that’s all.”

“It’s personal,” I said, my eyes widening with frustration. “Doesn’t anyone on this fucking team have anything they don’t want the world to know about? Am I the only one?”

“You know there aren’t any secrets around here. Now tell me how Kate is before I punch you in the face, asshole.”

“She’s alright,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “She was doing better before she found out everyone knows.”

“What about you? You doing okay?”

I sighed and felt a pang of guilt. Luke was like a brother to me. We even looked alike – same 6’3” height and broad hockey-player build. The only contrast was our hair; his was gold and mine was black.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s hard seeing Kate hurt and not being able to do anything about it. I know I’ve been an asshole lately.”

Our teammate Kevin was passing by to chase down a stray puck, and he laughed at my last statement.

“More of an asshole than usual, you mean,” he said. “You need to get laid.”

My anger made a resurgence. “My wife’s not exactly up for that right now.”

Kevin shrugged. “I didn’t say anything about her.”

“I don’t cheat on my wife, asshole.”

“Just get a blowjob, then. I know a chick—”

“Fuck off.” I skated over and body-checked him. He fell to the ice, got up and I forced him down again. He stayed down.

I skated away with Luke, eager to lose myself in practice.

“Let’s go get a beer later,” he said. “You need to blow off steam, man.”

That was an understatement. “Yeah, okay. But I’m not gonna be your fucking wingman.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Just in case you get any ideas.”

“You know I respect your marriage,” Luke said, sounding offended. “I love Kate. If I could find a woman like her I might think about getting married myself.”

I turned to him, surprised. “You?”

“Yeah, me, asshole. I miss having someone to just go to a movie with.”

“I’ll go to a movie with you.”

He glared at me. “You know what I mean. A woman I can be myself around. That I can do something with besides fucking.”

“Yeah. I felt that with Kate from the start. I’d marry her a thousand times, I really would, but …”

The blare of the whistle snapped my train of thought.

“But what?” Luke asked as we skated to the line.

“The thing about loving someone this much is … her pain is like a knife to my chest. I can handle my hurting, but hers …” I shook my head. “It shreds me. I can’t even describe it.”

Luke nodded, at a loss for words for once.

“Just wait,” I said. “Someday you’ll find out what I mean.”

I had to pee, but I couldn’t bring myself to miss one second of this game. My eyes had been glued to the flat-screen television on our wall since the puck dropped. Ryke was on fire, playing with an intensity I’d never seen.

Usually he was a smart player. Always thinking, always a step ahead, always planning. He moved swiftly and hit hard when he needed to, but he still had all his teeth for a reason: he didn’t fight just for the hell of it.

But tonight he was aggressive. He charged up and down the ice and took more shots than usual. He wasn’t the calculating player I knew him to be. It must’ve caught the other team off guard, because he’d scored two goals and it wasn’t even third period yet.

“Oh, Ryke, no….” I groaned and looked away when he elbowed a player from the other team and yelled in his face. Ryke was getting a punch to the gut when I looked back, and a short but fierce fight followed.

When Ryke was relieved by another player so he could rest, I rushed to the bathroom and then jumped back onto the couch. I missed being at the home games in person, but hadn’t been back since finding out everyone from the team knew about my miscarriage. I’d have to go back eventually – wanted to, even, but not yet.

I’d spent the morning counseling clients and the afternoon in meetings with potential donors to the foundation. Jean Naughton, the owner of Ryke’s team, had introduced me to the owners of a new technology startup company who were raking in money. They’d taken me on a tour of their company and listened to my talk about Hannah and the foundation, promising to send a check.

I wasn’t feeling like myself yet, but doing things that helped others made it so much easier to cope. It reminded me I had a purpose, even if it wasn’t the one I wanted.

The opposing team was getting too close to the net, and I hovered on the edge of the couch, kneading my hands.

“Hit somebody!” I yelled into the empty apartment. Dawn was probably yelling the same thing at the arena right now.

Ryke’s team was sloppy in the last period but still pulled out a win by one goal. I took a hot shower to wash away the tension of watching the game and then turned on some Maroon 5 music in the kitchen.

I’d become a night owl, often up waiting for Ryke to get home from a game or call from the road. I pulled peppers, mushrooms and broccoli out of the crisper in the fridge and set to chopping for a late-night stir-fry. With chicken and brown rice, it was one of my favorites.

Just as I leaned against the island to eat, the door opened and Ryke came in.

“Hey,” I said, turning to face the door so I could see him. “Great game.”

He shrugged and scowled. “We played like shit the third period.”

“A win’s a win,” I said. “What’s that?”

He held up a bottle of wine. “Thought you might like it.”

“Perfect timing. I was just about to eat dinner. I made a lot, just in case you didn’t go out.”

“I didn’t. Wanted to see you.”

He set the bottle on the island and reached for me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let myself get pulled into him, basking in his after-shower soapy scent.

I rested my cheek against his solid chest. “Is everything okay with you?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Why?”

I pulled back so I could look up at his face. “You didn’t play like yourself tonight.”

“I scored twice,” he said with a defensive glare.

“You were great.” I stroked my fingertips over his dark stubbled cheek. “Just a lot more aggressive than usual.”

He shrugged and his gaze dropped to my chest. I’d put on a white nightshirt after my shower and he’d probably seen my nipples showing through it. His hungry expression made desire stir between my legs, but my mind took over. I wasn’t back on the pill yet, and it wasn’t happening until I was. But I couldn’t leave my dark, sexy husband frustrated.

“Are you … pent up?” I asked, letting my fingertips run from his cheek, down his chest, to the noticeable bulge in his dark suit pants.

“Ah.” He shifted and closed his eyes. “I’m okay, baby. We need to wait til you’re ready.”

I smiled and unfastened his pants. When he gasped and his head fell back, a heady sense of power filled me. I loved having this huge, powerful man in the palm of my hand.

When I reached into his pants and stroked his large erection, Ryke’s strangled groan made me realize how much I’d been neglecting him. I let his pants fall to the floor and then dropped to my knees.

“You don’t have to, baby,” he said in an uneven tone.

“I want to. I miss the taste of you.”

His eyes closed again, and he wove his fingers into my damp hair. I pushed down his boxers and toyed with the tip of his rigid length, licking it playfully. His fingers tensed, pulling on my hair. I ran my tongue up and down his shaft and his groan was tortured.

“Don’t you like me playing with you?” I asked lightly, giving him big, innocent eyes.

“No — yes. Yes, I love it.” His caramel eyes were begging for more. “Take your shirt off.”

I stripped it over my head and looked back up at him. “Can I play some more?”

“Fuck yeah. Please.”

I kissed his thighs and caressed his balls just enough to bring out a frustrated groan. He loved seeing the different sexual sides of me – sometimes I was so eager I’d push him down on the bed and take what I wanted and other times I was coy and made him work for it. Sweet and innocent wasn’t something I did much anymore.