Dear Roomie (Rookie Rebels #5) - Kate Meader Page 0,95

Reid was ejected.

Reid turned away, repulsed, only to find Kennedy standing at the door.

Her roommate was here, looking about as dejected as she had ever seen him.

“Is Bast okay?”

He met her gaze, his pain a shockwave that hit her hard. “Who told you I was here?”

“Mia found out.” She closed the door behind her and came closer. “Is it serious?”

“A concussion and a wrist injury. He’s conscious. Or so I hear.”

Thank God. “You haven’t seen him?”

“Henri is with him. He won’t want to see me. Not after what I did.”

“I doubt that.” That sounded like Henri talking. “I imagine he’ll be out for a while but—”

“He’ll miss the Olympics.”

Oh, poor Bast. This game was so much more dangerous than she had imagined. Seeing Bast stretchered off the ice tonight had sent her down a Google rabbit hole.

Tara had not been kidding about hockey’s propensity for horrific accidents. Listicles abounded detailing skate blades to the hand, the neck, the head. One guy had received so many stitches after one incident his face looked like a football. Even Isobel Chase, one of the Rebels owners, had suffered a career-ending injury when 37 minutes into her first professional hockey game, a skate blade sliced through her skull and almost killed her.

Bast was hurt tonight, all because his brother had something to prove to an asshole who shouldn’t be allowed to raise children. Next time, it could be Reid. A gash to his neck, a concussion that shook his brain loose. An injury that killed him.

But even knowing that, she was prepared to take a chance on him.

On them.

“That was scary. Seeing him knocked out like that.”

“By me.”

Sitting close, she placed a hand on his arm. “Yeah, by you. Why did you go at him so hard?”

“Because I’m an asshole.”

“No, you’re not.” Sports seemed to bring out certain personality traits, though. “These things happen.”

“Yeah, they happen. Usually because one person makes them happen. We’re professional skaters, y’know. Most everything that happens on the ice is planned.”

Grumpy, difficult Reid throwing up fences. She wasn’t falling for that. Of course he didn’t mean to hurt his brother—not like that—but the situation had blown up. She wanted to soothe him, do anything to help him through this.

“Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him you didn’t mean to go so overboard.”

“I’m the last person he wants to see. I just fucked up his Olympics, the rest of his season, his shot at another championship.” He stared at her. “And how do you know I didn’t mean it? You don’t know what’s in here.” He pointed at his head.

Oh, but she did. She knew how years of brainwashing had held Reid captive to one man’s vision and how in the last few weeks he’d emerged from that dark place to become his own man.

“Because I don’t believe you’d hurt anyone deliberately, even in the heat of battle. Especially your brother.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I want a place on this team, and it looks like I was prepared to do anything to get it. Guess there’s more of the old man in me than we all thought.”

“You’re not like him.”

His eyes had turned dark, the blackness evicting all trace of blue. “I’m just like him. And I don’t need your hippie-yoga-let’s-all-get-along new age shit to tell me I’m not. I’m out there on the ice, kicking ass and taking names. I’m so on top of my game that I’m slamming my own brother into the boards and dealing out concussions and fractures like candy.”

“Reid, I get that something happened tonight with your brother. Something that’s been a long time coming and is rooted in the toxic relationship with your father. All your life he’s manipulated you into thinking everything is transactional and that you can’t have a real friendship with your brother or even your teammates because they’re your competition for, well, everything. It doesn’t have to be that way. You could step back from that. Just say no more.”

He shook his head. “Why? This is who I am. It’s who I’ve always been. You know Bast, my brother, nicest guy in the world? You know how I treated him growing up? I was an asshole to him. I pushed him around because I was jealous of his talent, his charm, how goddamn easy he had it. I wanted what he had with Henri. I wanted to be the favorite son. And tonight I made sure that I’ll be the only one playing for a while. By any means