Slap Shot(52)

“But you love me,” she cried, foamy spittle leaving her lips and dribbling to her chin. “Why would you say that? Why would you do this?”

“I don’t love you. I never have and never will, get that into your crazy fucking head, woman.” His body shoved into her harder and she cried out as she was squashed against the wall.

“Come on now, Ramrod,” one of the security men said, placing a hand on Rick’s bare shoulder. “We’ll take it from here.”

Rick’s whole body jerked, his lips snarled back over his teeth. He made no move to let her go. If anything he pushed into her harder.

“Rick,” I said, shakily. “Rick, please.”

He turned to me, his eyes glazed, his face twisted in anger.

“It’s okay now,” I managed. “It’s okay. Let her go.”

He focused on me for a few long, drawn-out seconds, then sucked in a deep breath. His eyes lost their glazed fury and he pulled back from Laurie and watched as she was quickly surrounded and cuffed.

My legs finally gave up. Muscles shaking and knees refusing to hold my weight, I slithered to the ground. My palms slapped onto the cold floor, my knee landed on a sharp chunk of ceiling.

Rick was there in an instant, scooping me up against his chest. “Baby, it’s all right now, it’s all right.”

My whole body shook, from the very center of my torso to the ends of my fingers and toes. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak. My eyes were so full of tears I couldn’t see.

“Get that mad bitch out of here,” Rick snarled over his shoulder at the security men. “Now.”

I buried my face into his neck, clung to his shoulders and drew in fast, juddering breaths.

“You’ll regret this,” Laurie shouted as she was hauled past us. “You’ll regret picking her over me. She’s a whore, she doesn’t really love you. She’s nothing on me. I love you. I can give you what you need.”

“Shut the hell up,” a security man said, yanking her from the room.

Rick’s hands were all over me as if checking for injuries. “Shh, baby,” he soothed into the sudden quiet. “She’s gone, the gun has gone. She’s gone, forever.”

My ears were still ringing from the sound of the shot, my guts rolling, my heart pounding. I wasn’t dead, I was alive. Rick wasn’t dead, he was alive. I hardly dared believe the terror was over.

He hugged me tighter. “Did she hurt you anywhere? Do you need the paramedics?”

“No, no, she didn’t, but…oh god…she’s so crazy…the things she was saying…I thought I was going to die, I…I thought you were going to die. Rick, I—”

“Shh, it’s okay, take slower breaths, calm down.” He stroked a hand down my back and kissed my head. The texture of his stubble-coated chin on my temple was so sweet, so familiar after the deadly cold of the gun.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered again.

I snuggled into him, splayed out my fingers on the wiry patch of chest hair the gun had touched. I shuddered and choked back a sob. Fisted the short curls and shut my eyes.

“Dana, Dana, Jesus, are you okay?” Carly’s voice tinkled over the ringing in my ears as she squatted next to me and put her hand on my back.

“Yes,” Rick said. “She’s okay, just very shaken.”

“She doesn’t look okay,” Brick’s deep voice rumbled from somewhere above me.

“She’ll be fine, she breathes fast like this when she’s scared.” Rick tilted my chin so I was forced to look into his face. “Come on, baby, slow down or we’ll have to get you a paper bag.”

“I…I’m okay.” I swallowed and felt the first semblance of control over my breathing return.

Carly’s hand was still on my shoulder. “We should get her out of here, it’s really dusty. It’s not helping.”

Rick grunted in agreement and, obviously not having the same weak leg problem I was having, stood, taking me with him. Gently he secured me against his chest.





Chapter Nine



I sat in the players’ lounge, Rick on one side, hugging me close and Carly on the other, encouraging me to have sips of water. Brick sat opposite looking grim and cracking his knuckles every so often.

Dale was quick to arrive and slipped in past two police officers guarding the lounge.

“How the fuck could this have happened?” Rick demanded as a way of greeting.

Dale shook his head and sat next to Brick, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. Somewhere in the recess of my mind I thought how small he looked. I’d gotten used to seeing big men, enormous men. They had become the norm for me now.