Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (9 page)

“Hands on the car.” A big, bald policeman came over. He didn’t sound very happy. The cops striding up behind him didn’t look happy either.

Both Tyler and Scott did what they were told. Luke folded his arms over his chest, glancing back at the bald cop, talking like he wasn’t as worried as he should be. “Think it’ll be hard to fix?”

Another cop latched on
to Luke’s arm and slammed him against the car. “You deaf, pal? Hands on the fucking car!”

“I hear you. Damn, how about a drink first, stud?” Luke snickered as the cop stared at him. “I like long walks and flowers and—”

“Shut up, Luke!” Scott pushed away from the car, reaching out like he wanted to grab Luke and shake him. The third cop hauled him back and half threw him over the trunk.

“You’re under arrest on the charge of auto theft.” The bald cop continued reading them their rights, his tone bored. He was the one who snapped the cuffs on Tyler’s wrists. Was nice and calm as he led Tyler to one of the cars. “Son, I have a feeling your teammates are a bad influence. You tell me what happened, and we might be able to get you on the ice for the next game.”

Reality hit Tyler like a safe in a cartoon dropped right on his head. He sat in the backseat of the cop’s car and pressed his forehead to his knees.
I’m a dead man.
“Not gonna happen, sir. Coach is gonna kill me.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand,” the cop said, clearly not knowing Callahan at all. “That’s your teammate’s car, isn’t it? If he drops the charges and you tell your coach who was responsible, I’m sure—”

“That’s the thing.” Tyler kinda hoped the charges wouldn’t be dropped. Then he could hide in a cell for the rest of his life and Callahan wouldn’t have to commit murder. Even more importantly, Chicklet wouldn’t have to see him and tell him how disappointed she was in him.
Again
.

There was only one thing to do. He had to come clean.

“Officer, I’d like to confess now.” He inhaled deeply. “This was all my fault.”

* * * *

Raif had been to many places in his thirty-one years. From the Egyptian deserts to the wilds of Africa. His parents had considered experiencing the world just as important as any amount of schooling. He’d even done a student exchange for three months in Ohio.

Museums, ruins, jungles
, and weeks out in the middle of the Atlantic. But he’d never been in a police station.

Then again, he’d never had anything stolen from him either.

He hadn’t even seen his car yet, but from what the police officer had told him, there was some damage. Luckily, the anger he’d felt on finding his car missing from the parking lot had faded. Now that he knew who’d done it, he almost wished he hadn’t called it in. With the GPS tracking system he’d had installed, finding the car had taken no time at all. Anger had shifted to bitterness and a sense of betrayal. He was aware that he had few fans on the team. Tyler’s hero worship had clearly died, and some of the younger players were following the veterans’ lead in treating Raif with cold professionalism.

Which he accepted, but they’d gone too far. Fine, he wasn’t popular. He
had
earned the team’s respect though. A prank he could have handled—he could take a joke.

This wasn’t a joke.
Raif leaned back in the stiff wooden chair as an officer sat at the desk across from him. Tapped his fingers irritably on his knee as the man fiddled with a laptop and chuckled at whatever was on the screen. Being here was humiliating enough. There was no way the police weren’t perfectly aware of his connection to the players they had in holding.

“
Excuse me.” Raif cleared his throat, a stiff smile on his lips when the officer glanced up at him. “I’ve said I won’t press charges. May I leave?”

“Oh, yes, of course. I just thought
…” The officer turned the laptop so Raif could see the screen. “Friends or not, you must be ripping? Detective Hamilton’s reading them the riot act. That boy, Carter, might not get out tonight if he keeps mouthing off.”

There was some grim satisfaction to seeing Tyler and Demyan sitting on the cement shelf-like bed, cringing as the detective shouted at them about the damage they’d done and the lives they’d put in danger even trying to roll the car onto the street. Both looked appropriately ashamed of themselves.

Carter, however, was staring out into the hall beyond the holding cell. The officer pressed a button on the laptop and turned the sound up. Carter was banging his head against the small window, muttering to himself. “Fuck you. I ain’t staying in here. I gotta tell Seb I’m sorry. He’s gonna be so mad.”

“You’ll be lucky to get out on bail, boy.” Hamilton moved to stand beside Carter. “Go sit down.”

Spine stiff, Carter lifted his head, eyes narrowed and words slurred. “I ain’t gonna. Seb’s coming for me. I’ve gotta fix this.”

“Shut up and sit down, Luke!”
Tyler hissed. He rubbed his lips with the heel of his palm. “He’s drunk, Mr. Detective, sir. Don’t listen to him.”

“You’re in enough trouble yourself, young man. I’d be less concerned for your friends if I w
ere you.” Hamilton flattened his hand on Carter’s chest and backed him to the bed to sit beside Demyan. He gestured to Tyler. “Come with me.”

Tyler’s face went white. He followed the detective out.

Raif stood and met the officer’s eyes over the laptop. “Since I’m not pressing charges, may they leave?”

“They’re all drunk, so someone will have to come pick them up,” the officer said.

“I will take Tyler home. Please bring me to him.” Raif wasn’t sure why he should even bother. Only, a small, calm voice in his head told him he was responsible for Tyler’s part in this. He hadn’t been comfortable with the way things had ended after their scene. Demyan would have done this alone—or with Carter’s help. But Raif found it hard to believe Tyler would have participated if he hadn’t been so confused.

The officer nodded and led Raif toward the back to an office where he was asked to wait. Second
s later, another officer came in. With Zach.

Then shut the door, leaving them alone.

“What the hell happened tonight, Raif? I mean—fuck, I’m sorry.” Zach tipped his head back. His dark blue suit was wrinkled, as though he’d put it on quickly after having tossed it haphazardly on the floor. His tie was crooked, which made Raif smile. In the minors, Zach had usually managed to look presentable even after they’d ripped off each other’s suits on the way into their hotel room. The only evidence of the rush to get dressed was always Zach’s tie.

Without thinking, Raif straightened it, like he always had. “This isn’t your doing, Zach.”

“If he stays—if you don’t drop the charges…” Zach raked his fingers through his short brown hair. “This makes the press and he’ll get traded. It might already be too late.”

“It’s not. I
’ve already dropped the charges.”

“Ra
if…” Zach caught Raif’s wrist. Pulled him in until their lips met. His mouth was hot, his kiss rough, as it had always been. Raif felt the familiar surge of lust as Zach pressed against him. As he whispered, “Thank you.”

Lust, but
…nothing more. The rage, the betrayal, all he’d felt when his car had been stolen didn’t compare to the pain as his flesh went cold and numb. As he had to finally face that Zach was lost to him.

The door opened even as Raif gently pushed Zach back. He looked over and couldn’t hold in the bitter laugh as he met Demyan’s eyes. He almost pitied the man. Only, between taking a joyride in Raif’s car and getting drunk, his night couldn’t have been the tragic comedy Raif’s had been so far.

“Scott.” Zach tripped away from Raif. Shook his head. “I—it’s—damn it!”

Demyan had already shoved past the officer, calling over his shoulder. “Tell Becky to come get me when she’s not busy. If she can’t, I’ll stay until they decide I’m sober.”

Zach couldn’t follow Demyan right away; the doorway was blocked. By Tyler, who stood there, staring at Raif as though the evil
Raif
had done could never be forgiven. Once Zach was gone, Raif stepped up to Tyler.

And didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “
You may leave with me now or wait for your Mistress. And I couldn’t care less what you decide.”

Tyler folded his arms over his chest. Tipped sideways.
Grumbled something as Raif held his shoulders to keep him on his feet.

Damn you, you stupid boy.
There was no way Raif could pretend he didn’t care. The boy looked lost, and angry, and perhaps a little afraid. Raif didn’t believe Tyler was scared of Chicklet. If anything, he was likely afraid to lose her.

Not Raif’s problem, not something he wanted to get involved i
n. Raif should walk out and never look back. He had half a mind to ask for a trade. One he wouldn’t get this close to the playoffs. But he could bear another month or so—perform well in the playoffs and have several offers from other teams. Leave this mess behind.

“Scott is one of my best friends. You shouldn’t have done that—you really fucked things up for him.” Tyler blinked fast. Sniffed. “I fucked up too. Didn’t mean for your window to get broke. Or
your lights. I’ll pay for them. But I’m not sure if I’m sorry.”

Now that was not what Raif had expected to hear. He put his hand on the back of Tyler’s neck and led him to the main area of the police station. Breathed a little easier when Tyler let him take his jacket
from the officer and help him put it on.

Raif didn’t speak until they were in the cab he’d left waiting outside with the meter running. “Why wouldn’t you be sorry?”

“I had to show you how it felt to have something taken from you. But I didn’t take something that matters. So it doesn’t count.” Tyler slid over to the other side of the backseat. Leaned against the door as Raif climbed in beside him. “You were my hero.”

But not anymore.
Raif sighed. “I know.”

“I still look at you that way. Like you can do no wrong. Heroes don’t hurt people. They’re supposed to be perfect. Why can’t you be the man you were in my head? How I feel would make so much more sense.”

“I never claimed to be perfect, Ty.”

“
I thought you were. For a really long time.” Tyler slipped sideways as the taxi made a sharp turn. His head rested on Raif’s lap. “Be perfect again. Then I won’t care that you’re a boy.”

That light weight on Raif’s thigh made it hard to breathe. A flash of images ran through his head. Tyler smiling up at him as Raif taped his stick. Ducking his head when Raif looked at him in the locker room showers. Stuttering every time Raif came up to him and he wasn’t surrounded by friends.

“What do you want from me, Tyler?” Raif looked down at the rumpled curls, pale gold glowing in the streetlight. At the thick eyelashes resting on Tyler’s pale cheeks. In a restful state, the boy really did seem like an angel. Innocent and pure. Not capable of stealing cars or lashing out at anyone because he was lost and hurt. Who the hell had hurt him so much that he could go from being peaceful to defensive so quickly?

The cab had stopped in front of Tyler’s condo before he finally answered. “I don’t know.”

Shaking his head, Raif got out, asking the cabbie to wait again so he could see Tyler to his door. The young man looked like he was sleepwalking, but managed fine on his own, which was a relief. Raif wasn’t sure he could support Tyler right now in any way, not without becoming confused himself. Letting go of Zach still felt like tearing open stitches on a wound he hadn’t known he had. But one he could ignore once he put things into perspective. The life Zach had, one that appeared so perfect, wasn’t for Raif.

Who knew how long he would be with this team in any case?

When Tyler stopped in front of a door, Raif watched him, waiting for him to open it. Tyler took out his keys. Fisted them in his hand.

Then groaned and leaned against the wall. “Maybe I should go to a hotel or something. Talk to Chicklet tomorrow with a clear head—let her sleep, you know?”

Why a hotel?
Raif opened his mouth, ready to suggest Tyler come home with him. But no, that would be a
very
bad idea. He wouldn’t touch Tyler while he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol. First thing in the morning, though? Raif would be tempted, and he’d had enough rejection to last him a lifetime. The next person he had in his bed would know exactly what they were getting into. They’d want what Raif could give. Which was much less than Tyler needed.

“If she’s sleeping I see no reason to wake her. If you don’t have your own bed, the sofa will do.” Raif held out his hand for the keys. The door was opened before he could unlock it. He smiled pleasantly at Chicklet before nudging Tyler toward her. “I think this belongs to you.”

“‘This’?” Chicklet stepped aside so Tyler could pass, her gaze never leaving Raif’s face. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll leave the two of you to talk.” Raif inclined his head to Chicklet, his tone light. “You and I have nothing else to discuss.”

“T
hanks for the ride, Ramos.”

The car door clicked shut
, and Luke’s gaze trailed Scott as he headed up the path to his, Pearce, and Becky’s house. Shoulders bowed, head down, Scott stepped onto the unlit porch to unlock the door. The man looked downright defeated. Not surprising, since he’d caught his boyfriend kissing another man, but that shit could be worked out.

Luk
e glanced over at Sebastian Ramos, his own…boyfriend? Master? Fuck the labels. He chewed on half his bottom lip, wondering if Seb would be pissed about him kissing Tyler. Probably not—hard to tell with Seb being so quiet. Luke couldn’t remember if he’d mentioned the kiss in all his drunken rambling. He did know Seb hadn’t told him to “Be silent.”

Seemed wrong. The car started moving and Luke braced himself as Seb let out a heavy sigh. This was it. Seb was gonna give him shit or
lay out what his punishment would be. Not something painful—he knew Luke would like that a bit too much. He’d get creative. Orgasm denial or something equally nasty.

Wasn’t a long drive home, but Luke was still shocked when they pulled into the driveway. Didn’t move after Seb parked the car. Turned it off. Got out.

Nothing?
Luke scrambled out of the car and up to the house as Seb disappeared inside.
He said nothing.

“Seb?” Luke took off his jacket and hung it up between Seb’s and—
whose coat was that? He shook his head, kicking off his boots and following Seb into the kitchen. The scent of bacon and beef almost shifted his attention, but he kept his eyes on Sebastian’s stiff back. The snug black shirt showed each and every hard muscle, unmoving steel locked in displeasure. And he still wasn’t talking. “Can you say something?”

“Goodnight, Luke.” Seb rolled his shoulders, then
went over to the stove where Jami was flipping a few burger patties. His tone was soft as he kissed her cheek. “Don’t stay up too late,
mi cielo
.”

“I won’t.” Jami
watched Seb leave the kitchen, then turned to Luke. He expected her to be all bitchy because he’d upset their Master, but there was some understanding in her eyes. She held her hand out, drawing him close and resting her head on his shoulder. “I made you a burger—might keep you from getting hungover if you don’t already feel sick?”

“I’m all right. Just one though
… You eating too?” He frowned at the third burger. There was no throwing out food here. Wouldn’t be wasting if he fed it to his dog—he hadn’t spoiled Bear with people food in a while.

Jami nodded as she put the patties, bacon, and buns together on three plates. “Yeah, I’m
starving
! Becky left something for me and Casey, but I was so busy with Amia I didn’t get to sit down long enough to eat!” She laughed and got that dreamy look in her eyes that had been there a lot lately. “I think Daddy and Silver are having me watch her to scare me out of wanting my own baby, but it’s so not working. Now I
know
I can do it.”

“Yeah, you can, boo.” Grabbing a butter knife from the drawer, Luke slathered some mayonnaise on the inside of his bun, then squirted some barbeque sauce on the pile of bacon. He added a slice of cheese,
flattened the whole thing, then took a big bite. After he finished moaning at the mouthful of heaven, he cleared his throat. “When we’re
all
ready though, ’kay? I’m having a good time just being a godfather and an uncle and doing all the fun stuff. I saw how hard it was for Landon to get used to leaving his baby to go on the road.”

“You don’t have Landon’s issues.” Jami licked some ketchup off her finger as she fixed up her own burger. The third one was still sitting on the plate. If it was for Seb, it was gonna get cold. Jami kept talking before he could point that out. “Anyway, you’ll have to get used to having a baby around.”

“How come? Are you pregnant? Fucking waste of condoms if you are—kinda like the idea of not needing them anymore though, and…wow. Just wow.” Luke grinned as he took another bite. He and Seb were being careful because they were still at the planning and discussing things stage, but if it happened, then it was meant to be. He reached out to touch Jami’s belly through her pale blue nightshirt, a strange warmth spreading through him. Didn’t matter who’d put the baby in her, it would be his kid. Which was pretty cool.

Screw how fun being
the awesome uncle is. I’m gonna be a daddy!

Jami’s eyes went big and she looked like she was gonna cry as she threw herself into his arms. His burger hit the floor and
Bear was suddenly there, all big floppy ears and wagging tail, almost tripping them both as he snatched the patty and took off.

“Hey! That’s mine, brat!” Luke laughed, knowing full well he’d never get it back. Besides, Jami was so cuddly and crying for some reason
, and he had to take care of his pregnant woman. Hormones probably made her all sensitive. He squeezed her gently and kissed her hair. “It’s gonna be okay. Some of the other players are dads, so we can make it work. How far along are you? Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl? Not like I care, but—”

Bubbly laughter rose from Jami’s lips as she tipped her head back. “I’m not pregnant yet, Luke. But you’re amazing
, and I love that you’d be like this if I was.”

“Oh.” He tried not to be disappointed. And to figure out how he could change Seb’s mind about trying to have a baby. Sighed as he remembered Seb was not too happy with him.
Baby talk is gonna have to wait.
He reached for the extra burger. “Might have softened our man up a bit. Baby news would have done it, but you’ll find another way.”

“I will not. You’re gonna fix this yourself, stud. But not tonight.” Jami poked the center of his chest before spinning around with his replacement burger in hand. “Give him some time to cool off.”

“He seems cool enough. Be better if he’d yell at me.”

“You know he won’t. He’s a little
too
calm though. I wouldn’t want to be you.” She spun again at a sound from the doorway and her eyes lit up. “Good! It fits! You hungry?”

A cupboard door opened and closed. Luke didn’t turn. He had a very
, very bad feeling, but wasn’t sure why. He was forgetting something that had happened around the car going through the garage door. Before the cops showed up.

Crunching. A familiar voice. “Starving, but the shower made me feel a lot better. Thank you so much, Jami. You’ve been awesome.”

Sam. His half-sister. The little punk was
here
?

Eyes narrowed, he looked over his shoulder at her.

There was a box of Keebler Chips Deluxe in one of her hands. Open. And she was eating them!

“Those are mine.” He took a step forward. Jami tugged him
back. He grunted and leaned against the counter, grumbling. “Well, they are.”

“That’s all you’ve gotta say after not seeing your sister in years? Seriously?” Jami brought his burger to the table, gesturing for the punk to sit. “Don’t mind him, he got drunk and in trouble and he’s grumpy.”

“It’s all right.” The punk didn’t look at him. Just finished the cookie and started eating his burger. She spoke around a mouthful of his delicious bacon and juicy Angus beef. “I caught you all at a bad time.”

Really?
He stared at her, her blonde hair all wet and tangled, looking bloodstained with those streaks. She was wearing one of Jami’s cute little nightgowns—the one with the cherries on it. He’d broken the strap the last time he’d taken it off Jami—she’d only fixed it recently. Seeing the punk wearing the nightgown was weird. He shuddered and looked away. She could keep it now.

Jami rubbed his sister’s arm, then glared at him. “You’re not really this pissed about the cookies, are you?”

“No. I’m just tired. And hungry.” He went to the fridge to get a frozen patty. Wouldn’t be as good as the fresh ones Jami had made, but he had to eat or he’d never be able to get through practice in the morning. “Sorry, Punk.”

“It’s fine, Bro-ha.” Sam gave him a hesitant smile. “Umm
…how’s your mom doing?”

Damn.
He put the patty back in the box. Slammed the freezer door. “She’s fine. Did you ever manage to pay her back?”

The punk’s face went red. “Luke, I—”

“Yeah. Didn’t think so.” He breathed in and out real slow to calm down. Went over to kiss Jami and let her know who she was dealing with before his sister fooled her like she did everyone else. “You might want to hide your purse, boo. I’ll make sure the alarm’s on so she doesn’t sneak out with any of Seb’s silverware. I’m gonna crash in the guest room.”

Jami took a step back. Glanced from him to his sister. “I don’t understand what—Samantha’s staying in the guest room. Why don’t you sleep in your own bed with me and Sebastian?”

“All you need to understand is my sweet little sister is a liar and a thief. She’s here, so she can stay the night, but I want her out of here tomorrow.” That settled, he kissed Jami again so she’d know he didn’t blame her for not knowing about the punk. He hadn’t known until pretty recently, when he’d asked his mom why Sam didn’t visit anymore. Mom had always treated his sister well, even though she was the result of an affair, wanting him to be close to her.

That had turned out to be a
huge
mistake.

“Can I ask you something before you storm out, big brother? Just curious, since you’re so perfect.” The punk’s tone was sharp, her lips white as he turned to face her. Her brows lifted slightly. “What were you arrested for again?”

“Not for stealing from a woman who gave me everything and loved me my whole life, that’s for sure.”

“That was years ago!”

“Uh
-huh. And you made it right when you visited while she was sick—no, wait, pretty sure you never even called.” Luke held up his hand before she could say anything else. “Tomorrow you are gone.”

“I’m in trouble, Luke. Please—”

“I don’t fucking care, Sam.” He swallowed hard, getting the fuck out of the room before she could try to make him feel sorry for her. She was good at that. Jami was probably going to be mad at him too now for not being all nice to his little sister. He dropped onto the sofa in the living room and brought a throw cushion up over his head to smother the angry shout he couldn’t hold in anymore.

How could one night—especially a night after a win—go so damn wrong?

Seemed like a long time before Jami and his sister went to bed. The house was quiet with him just lying there in the dark. Bear had curled up on his legs, stinking up the air with a fart, reminding Luke why he didn’t let his dog eat people food.

Heavy footsteps crossed the room. Luke held his breath, sensing Seb standing over him, not sure whether he should pretend to be asleep or see if Seb wanted to talk. Maybe it would be better to leave the talking to tomorrow rather than tonight when everything just kept getting worse.

Seb slid his hand around the back of Luke’s neck, speaking in a low voice that made Luke shiver. “Get up,
niño
.”

Luke sat up. Opened his mouth. Then shut it when Seb’s grip on his neck tightened.

“I am disappointed in you. We will not speak of it tonight, but one thing has not changed.” Seb trapped Luke with his hard gaze as Luke stood. His lip quirked a little at the edge when Luke swallowed hard. “No matter what happens, you belong with me.”

Pressing his eyes shut, overwhelmed with relief and regret all muddled together, Luke nodded. “Yes, Sir. But I have to tell you—”

“Not a word.”

Right.
Luke nodded again and let Seb lead him to their bedroom. He smiled a little as he climbed into bed and Jami immediately snuggled up to his side. She usually slept in the middle when she stayed over, but Seb had made it clear that’s where he wanted Luke right now.

Which was really weird because he’
d managed to get in the doghouse with both of them. If not the sofa, he should probably be sleeping on the floor. Or at the foot of the bed with Bear who’d hopped up and circled a few times before flopping down and passing out.

Tipping his head to the side so his cheek rested on Seb’s shoulder, Luke spoke quietly. “Can I ask you one thing, Sir?”

Seb chuckled, stretching his arm out behind Luke to smooth his hand over Jami’s hair. “If you must.”

“You’re mad at me, so I don’t get why you’d want me in here.”

“I’ve explained that already,
niño
.” Seb closed his eyes. And said it again, the one thing that let Luke know everything was gonna be okay. “This is where you belong.”

* * * *

The sandpaper scraping against the soft wood was damn therapeutic. Scott blew away the sawdust and ran his hand over the leg of the rocking horse he was making for Landon’s baby. There were a lot of small details in the design, and he’d been working on it for a while between projects. Amia was still a bit too young for it, but she’d enjoy it for years and he wanted to make sure it was perfect.

He needed to make it perfect. To focus on the wood and the design and not on seeing Zach and
Zovko kissing. He hauled in air and the sawdust floating around him, blinking fast because all that dust irritated his eyes. And tightened his throat.